Silence

Chapter 7

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"Hi, Willow," Hamilton greets monotonously as he walks into my cell. I hear other footsteps behind them. I keep my head down, not responding. "I know yesterday was rough, but we have another big day today."

"Today we test your resistance to flame after experimentation," the other man's voice says. My skin crawls every time he speaks. Above all, he seems to enjoy my pain. He tends to use anesthesia as little as possible, and is always letting me know how "well" the experiments are going. I can't stand him.

Wait, did he say flame?

For once, I look up with wide eyes. He can't be serious. He has to be the stupidest person on the planet to think any experiment will make me resistant to flame!

"But before we get to that," he began. "We need to read your vitals. Hamilton, if you would."

Hamilton presses a button that opens the shackles, and I tumble onto the floor. That's another downside to these people. No respect for how battered and cramped my body gets, which seems impractical if they wanna experiment on me. Though that might just be further proof of their apathy. Hamilton and another scientist help me to my feet, and the man puts me in my regular cuffs. Can't have me escaping, I guess. Not that I can at this point, even if I wanted. I don't even know where I am, so getting home wouldn't be easy anyway.

They walk me out the door and into another lab. They lock me in one of the capsules, and begin reading my vitals. It's the same thing every day. Read my vitals, give me something to eat if they can, prep me for whatever experiment or operation they decide on that day, they perform it on me, then send me to the infirmary to recover. Sometimes I'm in recovery for a few hours, or a few days, depending on how major the operation is. Sometimes I don't even have to go to recovery at all. They just lock me in my shackles and leave me in darkness to endure whatever they'd put me through.

After they're done reading my vitals, it's prep time. The outfit I wear is adaptable, so I don't have to change unless the operation requires it. I only have a few pairs of the same outfit that they rotate me through. I take showers when I get ready for an experiment. They have someone nearby in case I try to escape, but it's the only time of the day that I get a little privacy. Not that it makes up for anything.

After I get showered and changed, they put my cuffs back on and take me to a room where they start prepping me. I get no anesthesia. I turn to one of the female scientists, one I know is familiar with Morse code, and ask her why they're not numbing me up.

"In order to truly test your resistance to the flame, we need to be able to register any levels of pain, and we can't do that when you can't feel anything," she answers matter-of-factly and I look at her in shock. They're gonna burn me and not give me pain meds? Are they insane? "Don't worry. If all goes well, you won't be able to feel it at all. That is, if all Dr. Milo's experiments are worth anything."

Milo. Who's Milo?

I wonder if she means the mysterious scientist who I saw on my first day. If it is, it's good to have a name to go with that wretched face.

Once they're done prepping me, they cuff me again and lead me to an operation lab. I notice it's different from the one I usually get sent to. This one is slightly bigger and has more equipment. I pause, taking it all in, wondering exactly what they're going to do to me in here. I want to prolong this as long as possible, but the guard leading me has other ideas. He shoves me forward, making me go faster. He's among the more unpleasant guards that seems to enjoy pushing me around and making fun of my muteness. His face seems to be sculpted into a permanent scowl. I really hate him. I hate all of them.