I pushed myself to my knees and scrambled to find a wall or corner, sliding on whatever slick substance pooled on the smooth floor. I licked my dry lips. Questions raced through my mind.
Where was I? What was going on? Where was Dr. Hanley? Was this an examination? I thought I was being sent on an assignment. Or maybe...
His name caught in my throat. I couldn’t even bring myself to think it. Mom would never do something like this. She always explained what I was supposed to do—or at least told me I was being examined. I hunkered down and pressed myself into the nearest corner.
No, this wasn’t an examination. This felt like something he would do—like research.
I tried to swallow, but my mouth had gone dry. My eyes flickered back and forth inside the bag. I just needed to get through this. Better me than C-332, his recent favorite. C-332 was so frail. He hadn’t said more than five words since the last research.
I focused on taking steady, deep breaths to calm my racing heart. It always seemed to help. I couldn’t think clearly with my heart pounding in my ears. I wanted to remove the bag, as it made it hard to breathe, but he hated it when we “changed the parameters,” whatever that meant. It was safest to leave it.
I strained my ears.
To my right, someone struggled to breathe, their gasps wet as if they were drowning. Whatever I was supposed to do probably involved them. I crawled on my hands and knees, keeping one hand on the wall, until I bumped into them. I fumbled blindly over their body, searching for guidance. Three deep gouges had been carved into their chest. I rubbed my slippery fingers together and grimaced.
I understood what I was supposed to do now. Dr. Hanley had been testing compulsions that pushed through pain recently. I probably needed to compel this person to seek help. I searched for their temple.
I took a deep breath, prepared to call upon the power deep within me, and pressed my fingers to their skull. I gasped as the power surged stronger than it ever had before. A web appeared in my mind’s eye, intricate and beautiful. My power seemed to take on a life of its own as it guided me to act. Doing as I always did, I followed my instincts.
As I channeled my power, memories of a conversation with a woman surfaced. I had been in the playroom. A woman who wasn’t Mom had talked with me. I was going to play a game. Everyone was. And I needed something called a class, but not a class where you went to learn. There was an issue with me selecting one. She said I needed to be assigned one instead: Mind Dominator.
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The memory passed, and something in my mind snapped into place. Pain scraped across my ribs. I screamed and rolled around on the floor, clutching my chest. Several agonizing seconds later, the pain receded to a corner of my mind.
I yanked and pulled at the bag on my head until it tore free. I gasped. Partially dried blood covered my clothes. Two green balls sat partially deflated on the ground. An oily black goo dripped from the holes in their hides and pooled across the floor. A single bloody handprint smeared between the two elevator buttons, streaking down onto the lower one.
I tugged at my shirt, searching for the wound. There was nothing, and I was pain-free. A strange double vision settled over me, and my rapid breaths echoed in my ears.
I flinched as I sensed something off to my side—an awareness that hadn’t been there before. I looked to the right and stared at the man. General Braxton. That was his name. He stared back at me, and for a moment I saw myself through his eyes. Three deep gouges raked his chest, exposing bone and flesh. I tilted my head to the side.
With a thought, I prompted him to raise his hand, and he did.
The air popped behind me, followed by a thick, booming voice, like grinding rocks.
“How the hell did this slip through the cracks? We checked this barren rock a dozen times before we finalized the location.”
I spun around and scurried back into the corner of the elevator. A gray-skinned man dressed in fancy clothes glared at me. Behind him, the air wrinkled and blurred.
“So, this is the tramp who’s going to cause me a headache for the next several thousand years.” The man leaned forward and peered at me. His crimson eyes seemed to burn and boil with fury. “A child?” His tone sharpened. “We missed a malnourished child?”
He spat toward the dead creatures, the glob disappearing a few feet from his body. “Useless trash holes.” His eyes scanned the room. “The nuisance is underground?” He tsked. “Where’s a Borrelvian sandworm when you need one?”
I pressed myself deeper into the corner. My entire body shook. This was the most elaborate his experiments had ever gotten.
A folder of blood-stained papers scattered across the floor caught the man’s attention. He tilted his head to the side to read. “How cute, they isolated and categorized the gifted ones on purpose. Idiots. Doomed their world.” The man traced his finger along his brow and up one of his pitch-black horns as he read.
My eyes widened. I knew who he was.
He was the Devil.
My heart raced in my chest. I wanted to hide my face in my hands and pretend he wasn’t real, but for some reason I couldn’t look away.
“Wait a second. C-318?” He glanced back at me. “You’re telling me you’re one of at least 318 others?” His voice rose in pitch. “And if I recall correctly, C is one of your human letters, meaning you could be one of thousands?” The man was almost screaming now.
The Devil took a deep breath and smoothed his clothes. “This requires a change of plans. We’re going to need those Borrelvian sand—”
The Devil vanished.
The wriggling air as well.
I didn’t dare breathe, afraid he would return. I didn’t know what was going on or what was happening, and for the first time in my life, I wished I really was in the middle of an experiment.
The elevator beeped and, with a gust of familiar stale air, the doors leading to the bunker opened.
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