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THE DOZEN HADN'T interacted with anyone in days. Usually, someone would come to each of their individual cells just to bring food and water at least twice a day, but not this day. Not any of the days that possibly could have passed prior to this one; they had no way of knowing exactly how much time had passed since their last meal, but judging by the rumbling in their stomachs and their dry mouths, it had been, at the very least, a day.
It was deafeningly silent, and that was never good. The noises of the facility had become more of a background hum just because of how used to it they were, but in this moment, all was quiet. Except for a single, muffled gunshot that some had convinced themselves was nothing, and then the mechanical hissing as every cell door slowly rose and created an exit.
The first to exit their cell was Subject Three, who virtually rushed out of the narrow room as soon as the moment was opportune. "Okay," he began, loud enough for the other eleven subjects to hear him, "so, who in the actual fuck is responsible for..." Three turned, ready to continue in the face of whoever it was that kept them uncared for, but all he was met with was destruction. What was once a booming lobby was now nothing more than a mass graveyard. Bodies littered the white tile floor, blood splattered onto nearly every surface like a grotesque mural. "Oh."
The other subjects were soon behind him, wide-eyed and gaping at the sight before them. There was no time to acknowledge that this was the first time they'd been in the same room since Tag Day, not when the entire facility reeked of death. "Oh, my god," a small, meek voice spoke up from the back of the group. "No..." None of the group had to turn to see who was speaking; the girl had rushed out in front of everyone and to a lifeless body lying on the floor in a matter of seconds. "No... No, no, no... C'mon, get up. You have to- God, they're all... they're all dead..."
Subject Nine was never given the privilege of having a family. Her own parents sold her at birth, and that would've been seriously traumatizing if not for the multiple scientists and doctors who did all they could to support her the way her parents should've. She'd even made the mistake of calling a few Mom or Dad, but that was the kind of figure every adult aspired to be in the young girl's life, even if the Director advised against it. With the severity of everyday experiments and tests, the staff thought she'd at least deserved some sort of parental figure.
But now, she really, really wished they'd have just stayed away from her. Seeing them all dead was a pain she couldn't even begin to accommodate, like how she simply made room for the pain of knowing her own parents would rather have money than a daughter. This was different; this was real. It was something that was right here, right now; not something she could just push to the back of her mind and ignore.
