Wattys Shortlist 2022 -
When she isn't looking, they call her the Princess of the Ghouls, but they haven't seen the assassination order on her secret identity: viper.
Stuck in Lake Darling, ruled by her father's gang, Vi has one objective... run awa...
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Hawkesbury River
Barden Compound – Stage ONE Reproduction Facility
DAYS INSIDE: ZERO [ 0 ]
August 19 – Late Winter
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After I tried to shoot Wilkes, they sedated me. I came-to on a hospital bed with three little nurses chittering around me like canaries trying to retrieve scraps of bracken. Each nurse was female, and each had artificially modified features. G.H.O.O.L mods, like mine, except as with the fashion in Newcastle, their modifications were overtly apparent.
Yellow eyes, blue hair, freckles that shimmer like flecks of glitter.
Their assessment of my complete health portfolio was so thorough that I can't believe their scanning devices didn't detect the eSight in my right eye.
I thought I'd get to clean off or at least sleep, but the pretty Doctor told me I had to undergo an interview first because of the nature of my wounds. I didn't tell her my history, that I nearly died from some sort of blood infection last year, or that Elias's Nona had to use old medicine to extract a fish worm from me. I get breathing fits, probably asthma or anxiety, and it only worsens with every cigarette I huff or any vape I pull on. I've had broken bones and other injuries born of idiocy or violence, usually both. In fact, I always dislocate my shoulder because the tendons are so weak. Still, the only Doctor I have willingly spoken to since I was twelve was the man who installed my eye.
I sit on a pleather bed in a small glass room protected by thin curtains. A Lance Corporal named Gerhard looms over me with his arms crossed behind his back.
The glass wall hisses, pulling back for Wilkes to stride in, relieving Gerhard of his duty. The Corporal leaves as a woman enters. Her stick-straight hair resembles a mixture of salt and pepper, and her crystal pink eyes blink at me like a strange bird. Freak.
I glare at her tightly pursed lips. Neither she nor Wilkes wears a mask. Why? Everyone else hides behind them.
She smooths her white petticoat with manicured fingers, placing a glass device on the table in front of me before smacking a pair of blue gloves on her hands. She drags her pink eyes down my face, cocking her head in disgust at my blood-caked appearance.
Doctor Carden doesn't bother pulling the curtains closed. Instead, hundreds of people dart around, soldiers escorting Lake Darling rescues down halls and into rooms, letting people peer in and stare at me.
"Hello, Miss Warrendale." Carden clears her throat, looking at the device as she sits. When I sneer back at her, Wilkes cracks a threatening knuckle and the hair on my neck prickles. His reflection in the window becomes a constant ghost—a terrible set of hawk-eyes peering down at me.
