The Perfect Subjects | A BfB/BfDI fanfic

A Year of Work

One year.

It's been one year since I started my job.

It's been one year of watching the small innocence of my creation deteriorate. There was nothing inherently wrong with them. But they began to hate each other. The ecfectives started hating the defectives, believing them to be sick and useless. When Dr. Foster saw they did that, they forbade me from stopping any fights. So I just had to watch them all isolate themselves from the other side. But when I was asked to make nine more, luckily they weren't as mean. Though four were defective, no one was really treated differently for it. But they weren't very exposed to the first iteration of objects. So I kept it that way.

I stretched my arms as I sat up in bed. I checked my phone to see a good morning text from Teressa, which they started sending me recently. It was admittedly sweet, but they surely hated being up so early. I stood and got dressed in my usual outfit. I went to the bathroom and stared in the mirror quietly. I looked so tired. I deserve it I bet. I got ready and got in my car for work.

I walked into the office, taking in the familiar environment. I put down my things and opened the sleeping room doors. All the kids on the bottom row of rooms walked out, grouping up as they wanted, and going to their rooms. I sighed, the process of getting the others out was silly. Because of the first row having 21 rooms, all of the second iteration of objects were on a second row. So I had to use a big set of plastic stairs that could connect with hooks to the second row to let all the other get down. So I hooked the stairs and all the others stepped out on their own. Puffball floated up to me.

"Good morning Doctor Xavier!" She said in her robotic tone. She was a mystery. When I pulled her out of the goo, I was already shocked at her complete lack of limbs. But I was even more shocked when she got scared and flew so far up she slammed into the ceiling. Foster blamed her components and her lack of limbs to weigh her down or something. But he loved to experiment on her. She was missing patches of fluff, and a slue of teeth, which would ruin any way of her talking clearly if she had a voice. Her vocal cords where there, but she couldn't use them. So Foster made a small mechanical vocal box, which made her voice, which sounded like a normal high pitches voice with auto-tune, of a voice filter. If Teardrop was psychical, she might've gotten one too.

"Good morning Puffball! You know you don't have to wait for me to put up the stairs right?" She smiled.

"Yeah, but I like going with my friends!" Which she wasn't wrong about, two people waited below for her. I let her and her friends go off into their own room. I went into my office and reviewed what was on the testing schedule for today. The maze room was transformed into a testing room. I could attach and detach whatever small hoop or rod I needed to for making different test scenarios. I read the paper and went to the test room, supply box in hand. I used hoops at the end of a long rope and hooked them to the ceiling, making sure there were four rows of them. They would just have to reach the other end of the room without falling. I twisted a small faucet and filled a small area on the floor under where they would travel with water. It was weird to have such things but it's what Foster wanted so I had to. I walked into my office and leaned into my new microphone.

"Can I have Snowball, Fries, Bubble, and Bomb to the testing room?" The mic directed my voice to everyone's room. I stepped out and watched the four walk out and into the testing room. They all stood orderly on a raised platform, each positioned in front of hoops. I sat in my testing room chair and leaned into the mic.

"Okay guys you know the rules, when I say, get to the end of the course as fast as you can without falling in the water below you." I watched them ready themselves anxiously. Though they all wanted to win, they knew who would.

"Ready...GO!" I said loudly and off they went, swinging across the spaced hoops with a speed I never see outside of these rooms. Fries grabbed a hoop in front of him and his hand slipped, his body plunging into the cold water below. Poor boy, he's the only one who rots, I have to replace his fries every week. The others didn't care though, even Bomb, who he shared a day room with. But of course, as I already knew, Snowball was first to finish, he always was. And every time he did I could see him pick at his red tape. He was clearly trying to prove he wasn't defective. Shame Foster didn't care.