Taken and Teased

Chapter 1 - Veena

*THIS IS AN EXTENDED SAMPLE.*

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Knotty reading!

My heartbeat quickens along with the scratching of pencils on paper, the three other testers racing to finish before the dreaded alarm goes off.

I won't make it. I passed the last three rounds by the skin of my teeth, earning a punishment each time for answering a question wrong. Fatigue wraps cotton around my brain, my hands shaking so badly I can barely circle the correct letters.

The page blurs before my eyes, but I scribble the next answer as fast as I can, despite my body's jittery movements and hopelessly scattered thoughts.

It's been a few weeks since we tested. The break should have restored me from the intensity of the last line of tests, so I should be able to handle the consequences, but today they've taken their toll.

I tighten my fingers on the pencil and move to the next question, desperate to reach the end on time. As I press the lead to the paper, a distinct crack filters through the buzzing in my brain.

I freeze in horror and sit staring blankly for endless moments, expecting to pay for breaking my pencil, but a soft sob pulls my attention to my right.

Oh no.

My stomach sinks to my toes as Aashna stares at the splintered wood in her hand. A tear almost lands on her paper, but she fixes her posture just in time for it to roll down her cheek instead. She doesn't wipe it away for fear of reprimand, preferring to sit with the trail of humiliation and fear on her face than garner more attention.

The deceptively soft electronic chime sounds from the ceiling. All pencils cease their rushed scrabbling, and in robotic union we set them down on our desk, perfectly aligned with the right edge of our paper with the sharpened point aimed toward the front of the room.

Except Aashna's is broken.

I tremble for her, wishing I could take her punishment, but knowing I would only earn her more pain if I tried.

The door opens, ending the façade of privacy. Why they bother to leave the room during testing, I don't know. We all know they watch from behind the large, framed mirror, and the devices they've planted in and on us give them the power to punish us from afar.

My right leg twitches, still recovering from the last electrical shock. The device wrapped around my thigh almost cuts into my skin from how tight it is, and the one on my left thigh isn't much looser.

They hurt less than my left arm, though. The injection site pulses with heat, a burning pain coursing down the back of my arm and infecting the rest of my joints with fire. I grit my teeth and ignore the sweat dripping down my back.

"Subject 143, stand," says the masked figure standing at the front of the room.

Aashna rises to her feet, her shoulders curled forward in fear. She trembles but keeps her arms hanging loosely at her sides, the acrid stench of terror and dread permeating from her pores.

"Subject 186, stand."

My body moves instinctively, taught through years of abuse. The cold floor turns my feet to ice, my thin slippers doing little to protect me.