Change || The Promised Neverland

⚜ Chapter Twenty-Seven: Doll ⚜

<< Why is that doll staring at me? >>

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[Name] didn't know whether or not to be shocked or scared. She knew that Lambda's conditions were unbearable and often cruel, but this - this was too much, even for her. Never before had she seen such anger in someone's eyes. The one without the bandages, No. 2 if she remembered correctly, was struggling against their chains.

This shouldn't have been frightening to her. Her tests were worse than this. Those machine-inflicted dreams were worse. And yet, she couldn't move a muscle. In the midst of her shock, [Name] almost asked what they were - the keyword being almost.

She was distracted by the second inhabitant: a seemingly younger teenager, bandages obscuring him from his collarbone right to the top of his eyebrows. Scruffy, messy, gray hair, similar to the more aggressive inhabitant, framed his face - almost making him seem more childlike.

"Calm," he whispered. [Name] froze at his voice. It was soft, high pitched, and young. It belonged to a five-year-old child, not a teenager. She realized that he was talking to the other inhabitant.

"Calm," he repeated, as if it was the only word he knew. His fellow inhabitant refused to listen, continuing to thrash wildly. Sidra clicked her tongue.

"Aw, we'll never get anywhere at this rate," she sighed. Her eyes hardened, and a small but familiar zapping noise sounded. [Name]'s body acted on its own accord, grabbing onto her wrist tightly. However, she wasn't the one who screamed.

The chained inhabitant let out a guttural scream as thousands of bolts shocked him, his body jerking as pain ripped through him. [Name] watched him struggle with blank eyes, but horror still managed to bleed through. Her feet were stuck to the floor. She wrenched her eyes away from the tortured inhabitant and caught sight of the other. He wasn't in a better state.

With hands covered over his own ears, he shook in the corner he was chained to, whimpering as though he were the one being shocked. He was curled into himself to make himself seem smaller. Even so, he couldn't hide his quiet cries. [Name] almost wanted to comfort him, but she held herself back.

She couldn't afford any new weaknesses.

The electricity died down, and the first inhabitant hung limp. A hand grasped [Name]'s shoulder.

"Don't feel bad for them, hamster," Sidra assured. [Name] didn't dare look at her, for she didn't trust herself not to glare at the woman. While her mask had been perfect for her entire life, her eyes remained to be the one crack. "I have to discipline them early, so that they don't show these anger issues when they're older."

Early? Older? Discipline? 

Just how old are they?

Somehow, [Name] managed to retain her mask and nod as if she understood what Sidra meant. The aforementioned silverette pulled a lever, and the glass panel separating her and the chained children.

"You know what to do," Sidra said, suddenly holding a tray in her hands. [Name] gave a small nod, taking the tray and walking up to the limp child. For the more intelligent children here, [Name]'s tasks were to feed them their medicine and to change their bandages - courtesy of the god-awful syringes, filled with even worse drugs.

Taking a deep breath, she took a step forward into the dark room. Instantly, the child shot his head up, and for once, his eyes showed something other than anger - fear. [Name] should've been intimidated - the top of her head would've barely reached his elbow had he not been restrained on his knees. But as she watched him valiantly try to get away from her, looking absolutely terrified, all she felt was pity.