Inhuman (7 page)

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Authors: Danielle Q. Lee

BOOK: Inhuman
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Exhausted, even my imagination was too tired to cooperate.
Lying down on the pillow with the hum of the fluorescent lights above me, I succumbed to sleep.
The dream began instantly, only this time…I was being hunted.
***

The blistering sun was settling behind a sharp cliff to the west. With each step I took, hot sand pressed into the base of my bare feet and forced its way between my toes.

Licking my lips, I felt the grooves where the skin had split apart. Tiny grains of sand had nestled themselves behind my eyelids, every blink initiated a scraping sensation against my sensitive eyeballs.

The hot dry air filled my lungs with parched oxygen as I moved forward into the unfriendly desert. Ahead of me was a vast, bronze landscape sparsely littered with indestructible cacti and orphaned boulders.

With darkness settling over the land, the shadows began to own the night.

Mournful howls wailed in the distance as though announcing the end of the day and trumpeting the arrival of the evening. A light wind snaked over the contours of the land, quickly cooling the air around me. In a short time, I went from sweating profusely to shivering as the night air clung to my damp clothing.

Paranoid, my eyes scanned for movement behind every rock and brush. I knew
they
were out there, somewhere, lurking in shadows, searching for me. Like vampires lusting for my blood, the men in black stalked me, craved me…hated me.

The cave.

I had to find the cave.

This time, it was for refuge as much as it was for unveiling its secrets. Wrapping my arms around myself, I forced my tired legs forward. Shuffling through the cooling sand, I winced as I wondered if this was the step that would settle on a wayward scorpion. The laughter of coyotes assaulted my ears as I sensed them closing in on me.

A soft, warm light in the distance sent a rush of relief throughout my body. I picked up the pace as I recognized the mouth of the cave.

The glow within the cave soothed my aching soul. Flickers of light danced upon the walls like a midnight waltz, tenderly coaxing me in to rest my weary head. Holding myself up with the jagged surface of the cavern wall, I walked carefully over the rocky floor.

The wind whistled a haunting tune that echoed throughout the labyrinth of the cave. A large fire had been made by unknown hands; I seated myself in front of it and warmed my chilled body. Searching the walls with weary eyes, I noted the familiar number painted upon the walls.

II.

Always the Roman numeral two.

As I sat before the blaze, a sensation of being watched suddenly pervaded me. Glancing slowly around, I saw nothing, but still, the paranoia persisted.

Shivering and hugging myself, I waited for the unknown. I somehow knew it was only a matter of time before
they
found me.

It was then that I saw the figure.

Large and distinctly male, it made its way from the shadows towards me. Nearing the illumination of the fire, I strained to see his face. My heart pounded as I wondered if he were the enemy, one of the dark men who wanted me caged.

His hands outstretched, he reached as though to grab me!

Leaning from his grasp, it was then that the attack came from behind! Hard and forceful arms embraced me in a death grip and pulled me away from the man.

Looking back at the dark figure and his gentle arms outstretched for me, I realized—he cared for me.

Who was he?

Struggling within my dream, my consciousness flooded back to reality. Confused, I continued to fend off strong arms holding me down. Prying my tired eyes open, I realized that the dream—the nightmare—wasn’t over.

Holding my wrists with a crushing force and sitting atop my torso was a new enemy.
Agent Meyers.
***

The Velcro straps made a loud ripping noise as he adjusted the band on my left wrist. He’d already managed to secure my feet to the bed while I was sleeping. Sitting on my chest, he had my right hand pinned under his knee.

“Hello
freak
.” His voice was hushed and drenched in malicious intent.

Anger ripped through me with the word ‘freak’ and I began bucking my hips wildly in attempts to throw him off. Growling and snarling, I opened my mouth wide to scream. I needed to get the attention of anyone outside the door. My greatest hope was that Keanu was nearby and would save me.

Slamming his hand over my mouth, Meyers leaned over and whispered in my ear, his voice low and the heat from his breath brushing past my skin. “Shhhh…you wouldn’t want to ruin the party, would you?”

Pulling a roll of duct tape from inside his suit jacket, he held my mouth with one hand and with the other he pulled a piece of tape free and ripped it with his teeth.

Realizing the danger I was in and what his intentions were, I struggled with every ounce of energy I had. I cursed his strength as he placed the tape over my mouth and then proceeded to lock my right hand into the Velcro tieback.

“There, that’s better.” Climbing off of me, his dark blue eyes scanned my body, pausing on my chest. Fear overwhelmed me as my anxiety peaked. My breath came in short, uncontrolled spurts as tears flooded out of my eyes.

“Pity they didn’t clean you up first. Oh well, I’m not picky.” A Cheshire smile crept across his face as his fingers walked up the top of my thigh and slid across my stomach.

His baby face made him the perfect unsuspecting predator.

Adrenaline fired and I felt my eyes get very wide. He seemed to read my thoughts utilizing my expression of terror. “That’s right freak, I’m going show you the way humans do it, won’t that be nice.”

Oh god! He’s going to rape me!

Shaking my head vehemently from side to side and thrashing my body back and forth, I protested with every ounce of energy I had left.

Reaching down to his ankle, he produced a knife from under his black pant leg.

“You be a good little freak and you just might live through this.” He stated as he glided the blade along the inside of my thigh, past my stomach and up to my neck.

Sobbing hard, I closed my eyes and prayed for it to be over quickly.

“Mmmmm….Keanu’s got good taste in freaks.”

 I felt him rip open my shirt, cut the straps of my bra with the knife and expose my breasts. Molesting my body, he groaned as he assaulted me.

I didn’t open my eyes again until it was over.

***

Thankfully a shower routine was introduced the very next day. I scrubbed my body harder than I’ve ever scrubbed before. Some parts of me were raw from the self-inflicted cleaning regime, but I had to get him off of me.

Everything about him lingered on me like a rash.
Night after night, he returned.
Strapping me down and ravaging my body like a rabid wolf, he seemed relentless in his efforts to destroy my spirit.
I’d like to say he lost—but he didn’t.
He’d won the first night he attacked me. He stole what shred of humanity I had left within me, and destroyed it.

In my old life, I would’ve gone to the hospital and been examined. The police would’ve been informed and a charge would’ve been made. Agent Meyers would’ve likely have gone to jail for what he did to me.

In this reality, this new existence, I had no rights, no empathy and no justice. Day after day, my routine consisted of waking up, being led to the showers, eating three square meals, being raped, and going to sleep.

The animals at the zoo had it just a bit better than me.

Weeks went by, maybe months, the same routine, the same day over and over. Thankfully, Agent Meyers seemed to tire of me and left me alone once in a while.

Most days, my mind drifted over the borders of sane and insane. I could literally feel the line where my thoughts delved into the world of crazy. I was at the point where I didn’t care if I lived or died anymore. My survival instincts had betrayed me.

Some days, I cried all day. Some days I raged and beat my hands bloody against everything in my tiny white cell. Some days, I beat myself bloody, disgusted with the creature that I’d become.

I hated not knowing what I was.

Was I an alien? Was I some gross mutation?

A mutant.
The thought made me nauseous.

Maybe Meyers was right. Maybe I was just a freak. A freak of nature.

How fragile the balance of one’s humanity is. What is the line anyways? What makes someone human versus inhuman? Don’t feelings count? A soul? Didn’t I too, have a soul buried deep within me? A consciousness?

Why did my blood, or my DNA, something so insignificant, get to decide whether or not I was human? How fickle the human race was to accept me as one of their own at face value, but reject me at a microscopic level. How flimsy the standard of human rights become when they are scrutinized at a genetic level.

Can this get any worse?

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8

 

 

Hot droplets kissed every inch of my skin and rolled over my body as though caressing me. Cascading through my hair and running off my shoulders, the water hugged me at every contour like an appreciative lover. Steam rose and hovered in the air around me, cocooning me in a blanket made of mist. Raising my chin to greet the oncoming waterfall of warmth, I allowed a small and grateful smile to grace my lips.

The highlight of my day…a shower. The one place where an unbiased element nurtured me without a judgmental stare or awkward gaze.

Walking down the hall behind the armed guard, taking me to and from my daily bathing, I received nothing but sideways glances or avoidance from passing agents and workers. It was like being a leper of society without any visual proof of illness.

Drying off and dressing myself in the standard white jumpsuit issued to me after my clothes had ‘mysteriously’ been cut off, I was led back to my room.

Breakfast was always waiting for me when I returned. Day after day, the routine was the same—until today.

Agent Evans was standing in the middle of my cell when I returned. His face looked pale and he seemed agitated. I couldn’t help but notice the worried frown on his face.

“Is something wrong?” I asked, suddenly concerned for my own welfare. Briefly, my mind wandered to Agent Meyers and his assaults, hoping that maybe he’d been caught and Agent Evans was going to put a stop to it.

“Wrong?” He sighed as he shifted his weight from one foot to another. “I don’t know if I’d call it
wrong
.”

 I sure hoped he didn’t mean that what Agent Meyers was doing to me was okay! My hands clenched into fists as I glared at him. Suppressed anger began to flood to the surface of my body. I could feel myself becoming volatile. I envisioned lunging at Agent Evans and tearing at his throat like a wild animal would after being caged and unfed for months.

A knock at the door invaded my deranged fantasy.

“Excuse me.” Agent Evans mumbled as he quickly walked to the door. The door cracked open slightly, I couldn’t see who was on the other side, but Agent Evans had a very quiet conversation with that person.

Wishing I had better hearing, I tilted my head in their general direction. I focused all my attention to my ears in hopes of catching anything, even just a word, a sentence, something, but I couldn’t make anything out.

Apparently these people were good at secrecy. I wasn’t surprised. I had determined long ago that they were part of a secret government sect, but it didn’t take a genius to figure that out.

“Okay, yup, okay.” Agent Evans finished his mysterious conversation with the unknown person on the other side of my cell door. Turning his attention to me, I stood with a defensive stance. My arms folded across my middle, I gave him my best ‘what the hell do you want’ glare.

“Yes, well, someone will come for you shortly.” Avoiding my abrasive expression, he looked past me at the wall.

“Come for me? Why?”

Walking quickly toward the door, he knocked to signal the guard to let him out. For a moment I thought he wasn’t going to answer me, but at the last second, he turned and gave me an unreadable expression. “We need to do another test.” And with that, he walked out.

Sitting down beside my uneaten breakfast, my stomach lurched at the thought of food.

Test? What kind of test? How painful will this one be?
Curling up in the fetal position, I wondered what these jerks had in store for me now.

***

“Pee into this.” The lab assistant (whom I recognized as the asshole who’d taken a chunk of scalp from my head a couple months earlier) insisted as he handed me a little plastic cup.

Two armed guards had led me to a bathroom near what appeared to be the lab and then left me alone with the lab assistant. Hovering in the doorway, I gave him a cold glare.

Is he just going to stand there and watch me?

“Go ahead.” He stated, crossing his arms.

Out of all the torturous tests and inhumane acts, this had to be one of the most demeaning. Unzipping my white jumpsuit and pulling it down to my knees, I sat upon the cold, white plastic seat. Thankfully my long hair fell over my face and acted like a black satin curtain, blocking the gawking attendant from my view.

Holding the little cup between my legs, I waited for my bladder to release. There’s nothing more difficult than trying to relax an embarrassed muscle.

Finally, after what felt like forever, I managed to let my fluids go. Catching it in the little cup, I fought back the tears of humiliation as I handed him the warm liquid.

With his hands outstretched to obtain the sample, I intentionally tipped the cup and spilled some urine on his hands. I grinned with satisfaction under my veil of hair.

Pulling his hand back with a disgusted grunt, he stormed away to the lab. Giggling for the first time in months, I pulled on my jumpsuit and zipped it up.

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