Chapter Text
White rooms.
That is what laboratories are always portrayed with.
The sterile halls, the fluorescent lights, hushed experiments gone wrong.
It sounds like a horrible place on paper, but living through it is another whole monstrosity. Not a single depiction has described how loud it always feels. The hallways tower above you like mountains, the ceiling an unreachable and manufactured sky. Every small noise, from a pin dropping to a featherlight footstep, was made into a loud roar. It echoed and echoed until your skull started to rattle, and it never faded, because your own breathing would become warped and echo back to you in a garbled voice. Your own body soon became your enemy, as it betrayed you day in and day out.
Nothing felt private. Nothing felt sacred. Nothing was yours. Even if you spent a lifetime in this sterile prison, you would never feel comfortable. You would never feel warm or at peace. The floors would always remain cold and sticky to your bare feet, which would always make your feet sore when you finally sat back down. Instead of your clothing becoming comfortable and molding to your body over time, the fabric would always feel coarse. Sometimes, after you woke up, you would have a rash from where the fabric was pressed on too tightly.
Breathing even felt like an action that was not even your own. The air tasted stale and recycled. After a few days indoors, you forget what a breeze feels like. It was all so sickeningly bright, so sickeningly clean, and so sickeningly loud. The fluorescent lights would always taunt you and remind you of the sun, but lack the warmth, and always let out a loud droning hum. It was always too bright.
"Too bright," Phoenix thought.
She tried to blink to get used to the light burning in her eyes. Her efforts were in vain, and all she got in return was dry eyes. The sleep in her eyes only added to her discomfort. With a whine, the little girl attempted to rub her eyes. Nothing happened, so she tried it again. Her consciousness was slowly being regained. She could feel the pressure of some metallic edges digging into her wrists.
Phoenix then turned her head to the side, trying to get some respite from the bright lights, only to be met with the torsos of strangers in green. The clothes they wore were familiar but completely void of wear and tear. A wave of realization washed over the 9-year-old. She remembered this place. This was the place they would take her and a sense of dread filled her gut, making her throat dry up. She started to tug on her restraints, ignoring the pain against her bones.
"No-no... I don't want... here." She muttered something, her voice shaking. She was still being affected by whatever they were pumping into her, so she could hardly make a coherent sentence. A sense of helplessness caused her to try to suck up as much air as she could, only to let it all out at once, and soon this process began to repeat.
The people in green walked around her, taking notes and checking the distant screens. If Phoenix's eyes were not clouded with tears, she would have been able to read them. She started to shake her head to distract herself, to get away, or something similar.
Her small voice choked out, "I wa-nt to go hom-me."
A faint sense of accomplishment flooded her mind when her weak struggling got some attention. She let out a small wail when the pain in her wrists became too much to handle. With a frustrated groan, she eased up on struggling, soon resorting to speaking since she had their attention. A larger person in green scurried over and quickly inspected her.
"The chemicals wore off; the subject is conscious."
"Put it under again."
Phoenix did not like the way these people talked about her. It made her feel small, well, smaller. She felt the tears begin to run down her cheeks. She hated feeling as if she were an animal unworthy of interaction or consideration. She voiced this with the most strength she could muster in her current state.
"NO I D-DON'T LIKE THIS-"
Her moment of strength only made it worse because she then caught a glimpse of a needle nearing her. Her mind was soon clear of any haze, and she became aware of the fact that she could not feel her legs. She could not stop herself from beginning to tremble and shake, afraid to even glance down.
" Yes ma'am." The bigger person in green responded.
The person came near and grabbed her left forearm, holding it still. Their grip was too tight, and the gloves were irritating her skin even more.
Phoenix attempted to thrash but felt like her limbs weighed a hundred pounds. She could not handle another needle or injection. She could not handle falling asleep again. To aid her objection, she let out a broken scream, which began to sting her throat. But it did not matter how much thrashing or yelling she did, because in the end, she was still a prisoner. She was still not her own. She was their object. She did not have a single choice in her life that was not made by someone else, and in moments like these, that reality made itself incredibly clear.
The ice-cold needle slid into her arm and the doctor pushed the sedative into her frail body.
A final desperate scream tore through the air before the girl's eyes shut, her world going dark and her body going numb.
……
She missed her family more than anything. Her daddy would know what to do. Her mommy would find her. They loved her; they told her so every day. They would find her. She was certain of it. She had to be.
And so, every day she would wait. Eyes glued to the door, waiting for her parents. She was always waiting, only to be heartbroken and devastated when she was met with a man in strange armor placing a tray of food. In moments like those, she was reminded that she, in fact, was very hungry. So, she would eat, fall asleep, and then wake up with a new bandage or an ache in her body. It was maddening, and months of this passed by with her still hoping, longing, and believing that her parents would come for her.
She would always begin to remember the time she spent when she would play with her family. She would try to remember what her mom and dad would sound like when they laughed, but as time passed, doing that made her feel worse. She would never admit it, but she had forgotten what they sounded like, and soon could not remember the details of their faces. All good things must come to an end, so they say.
Phoenix did not even know when she broke, but she knew it happened. She was forced to realize her family was not coming back. She realized she did not even know how long she had been left there. She did not even know if her birthday had passed... She was alone. Alone... Alone... Alone...
Sitting and waiting was quickly replaced with screaming, crying, and hitting the walls. Day after day, Phoenix would scream and yell, but no change ever came. She even tried to attack the man who gave her food, which resulted in a nasty bruise on her eye that swelled. She learned very quickly that it was more trouble than it was worth to throw tantrums. She soon became tired of crying, she became tired of tantrums, and so she began to become hopelessly docile. The silence was deafening, but the echo if she did speak was painful. The noise of her own voice was sickening to her now.
She soon began to try to get used to her schedule. She would sit and sit, alone and unbearably uncomfortable. They would feed her mush, she would fall asleep, and when they were done with whatever they did, back into her room she would go. She never had a toy or anything like it to keep her company. There was nothing she could do to distract herself from where she was. The walls were far too empty and clean to even make shapes out of. The only company was the all-too-bright lights above her. Always on, always looming, always cold.
……
At this point, Phoenix lost count of how many days, weeks, or months had passed. For all she knew, it could have been years but she had not really grown much, so she doubted it. Today was just like any other day; the same silence and drone of the lights above. She stared at her legs, tracing over the scars on them, not really noticing that her skin did not feel her own fingers on some spots. She flexed her toes and began to try to move one at a time. A dull sense of pride caused the slightest of smiles to grace her features because she realized she had improved her control over her toes.
She heard footsteps approaching her room. She let her hands drop to her sides and she stared at the door expectantly, her smile dissipating. Another meal, she curiously wondered where her new scar would be. Instead of her usual meal of mush that greeted her, she instead saw the man in the armor holding nothing but his weapon. A newfound terror found its way into Phoenix's gut as she scrambled into the corner.
"Wh-what did I do?!" She yelled at the man. Her body began to tremble and shake without her being able to control it.
In response, the guard began to walk over to her, causing Phoenix to cover her face with her hands, curling up. Instead of a hit of pain, she felt the person's hand grab her upper arm and practically rip it out of its socket. She let out an involuntary wail of terror as she was yanked to her feet. Before she could comprehend what was happening, the person began to drag her out of the room at a faster pace than Phoenix had walked in who knows how long.
Phoenix could barely stand, let alone walk, so she was constantly stumbling over her own feet. She could honestly admit she was too scared to see where she was being dragged. All that she could comprehend was that she was being taken to some horrific place and that she would be awake during one of the experiments, or worse, she could have lost her use. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks and all she could do was bury her face in her free hand, blindly being dragged through the halls.
The noise was too loud; her feet painfully dragged on the ground as it clung to her flesh. The noise left a squeaking echo, making her want to vomit. The distant wails and screams grew louder the farther she was dragged. Her hands soon went from her eyes to her ears, trying to block them out. She had not even noticed the fact that she had started to hyperventilate.
Then, all at once, she was tossed onto some metal floor haphazardly. She hit the ground with a loud thud. It was all she could do to not open her eyes. Instead, she just curled up as she heard the latch close. The ache on her skin where she was dragged was already beginning to bruise. She did not want to open her eyes. She just wanted to get out of this place. She did not even remember where she wanted to go, just someplace not sterile. All she could continue to do was cry. So, she remained curled up, hoping to just fall asleep.
A raspy voice called out, "Some of us are trying to sleep in here!"
Phoenix instinctively flinched at the sudden voice. Another voice? Not just a voice, this one was different from the usual monotone voices that plagued her thoughts. Not even like the voices that would drone on and on behind closed doors or when a sedative would wear off.
"Oh my god, there's a kid now," another voice mumbled, to themselves.
"People?" Phoenix thought.
In a moment of hesitant hope, she took a chance to glance up, not sure what she was expecting to see. What greeted her were mats on the floor that lined each unbearingly white wall. Each held animals, creatures, and a few humans. None were her age, making Phoenix feel embarrassed that she had been on the floor crying seconds earlier.
She glanced around the room, trying to gather more of her belongings. Not many stared at the small girl for long, seeming to not want to accept her presence. Some of the ones that would meet her gaze soon turned away in what seemed like disgust or irritation. Phoenix wiped a tear track from her face, trying to calm her beating heart. She had not realized she was still crying. With a resounding sniff, she sat on her knees.
It would not be as bad as her old room. At least she is not alone anymore. Phoenix attempted to ignore the gnawing in the back of her mind that it was going to get much worse, somehow. After spotting an open mat in the farthest corner of the room, Phoenix shakily stood up, making her way to the unoccupied space. While she attempted to stumble to the back of the room, growls and snarls would greet her if she tripped too close to an individual.
Their eyes followed her every move. Phoenix felt exposed, the hair on the back of her neck standing. She felt as if one wrong move would have her killed. Not that she had not before, but now, with all these creatures looking at her like prey, it made her heart race. As she approached the back of the room, the girl stumbled to the mat in the corner. The mat was as far away from the beings as possible; the mat was just as stiff as the one in her old room. The pillowcase was quite literally a burlap sack, and the blanket was no more than a thin sheet.
"At least I have a blanket," she optimistically thought. The second her knees touched the cushion, she heard a strong electricity surge around her, causing her to involuntarily yelp. She frantically glanced around the room. No one seemed phased. She did manage to notice the slight discoloration of the white around her.
Curiosity that she had forgotten that she still had immediately gave her a wide-eyed expression. She scooched close to the edge of the discoloration and stared at it. She blew on it and felt her own breath blow back. A smile graced her features as she went to poke it. Her joy only increased; her hand felt fuzzy when she touched it. A part of her realized she now had a smaller space to exist, but now she had a tingly wall, which was a decent trade off. She soon let her hand sprawl out over the barrier, seeing it grow slightly glitchy, but she enjoyed the tickling on her hand. Most of the other experiments had gone back to ignoring her at this point, but a few glares had returned because she was becoming an irritant.
Noticing the tension in the air, her smile immediately retreated as she looked down at her lap. Phoenix turned away, hoping they would go back to trying to sleep. She decided today she would not focus on the barrier, but instead she would cover herself with a sheet she had never had before. After scampering on top of the mat, Phoenix took a glance around the room. If she stayed quiet and out of the way, no one would bother her. With a delicate maneuver, she snuggled herself under the sheet.
Somehow, in the large, cold, and echoing room, Phoenix found herself just relieved she was no longer alone. Even if the people around her were not kind, they were like her.
……
Phoenix never wanted the silence ever again. She never wanted to go back to being alone ever again, but in moments like these she second-guessed herself. The hallways outside of the doors echoed loud enough into the room where she was curled up. A scream far too violent to result in anything good. It was all the little girl could do to hide herself under the sheet and cover her ears as tightly as she could, but it could never block it out.
" kid." She faintly heard a familiar voice call, but she did not make a move. The screaming continued to fill the room; it made her want to throw up. Her stomach churned as she heard a loud crash. Phoenix began to shake her head violently, then began to hit her head, trying to distract herself.
"Kid!" the voice repeated, louder and angrier than before. It was enough because it caused Phoenix to peek out from under the thin sheet at the creature across from her. "I was worried you knocked yourself out or something'."
Phoenix did not smile at this; she instead flinched at the yells from the guards. Nothing the creature had said to her in the past ever seemed to help her. He snapped at her when she asked about the strange men, telling her that they were called security. He was always angry with her. The more people disappeared, the more frightened she would feel, and the meaner he would get.
She faintly heard a tired sigh from the creature. "You got a name?" He sounded like he was straining to remove the growl from his voice.
Phoenix looked at the creature and took a slow breath. "...Phoenix?"
"Gee kid, do you not even know your own-" Just as he began, he stopped, took a deep breath, and then started over "That’s a nice name… "
"Thank you... What's-what's your name? "
Phoenix spoke hesitantly, trying not to anger him again; she was not sure how this snappy creature would react to her in general. The creature looked at Phoenix with an expression akin to bewilderment or frustration. After a few seconds of him gauging her expression, his mouth twitched as he looked at the wall to his side, crossing his arms casually.
"89P13."
Phoenix scrunched her nose at this. "That's not a name. That's just a lot of numbers."
The small creature took a deep breath in and closed his eyes. His ear twitched before he opened his mouth to explain.
"Well-"
"What's something you like?"
Subject 89P13 did not know how to respond to this small child. She was genuinely curious, he could see it, but he knew he could not play into her little game. Getting to know people did not help anyone here. He honestly had no idea why he even tried to spark up a conversation anyway.
"Doesn't matter." He ended the conversation as quickly as it had started. He padded back to his mat and sat, his back to the small girl. It would not help to talk to her.
Phoenix stared at the angry little creature's back. That was her first conversation that lasted over a minute. Her chest was filled with a newfound determination and desperation to not let it end. Her fingers twitched with eagerness because this was also the first time 89P13 had not completely snapped at her.
"You know, your fur is really pretty," she said louder, determined to keep his attention.
Subject 89P13’s fur bristled instantly; his head snapped to look at her with the most shocked face Phoenix had ever seen. "What!?" he croaked out.
Phoenix could not help but giggle at this, "Your fur! It looks soft! The color is also the opposite of the walls. " A matter-of-fact tone laced her words as she perked up.
Subject 89P13 genuinely was bewildered. "The walls?" he echoed. All he got was a curt nod from the little girl.
"They sometimes hurt my eyes. They get too bright. The lights hurt sometimes too. But they told me not to talk about it. They used to say I talk too much. I learned that they will not hurt me as much if I stay quiet. " Phoenix took a moment to breathe.
Subject 89P13 stared dumbfounded at the little girl. He honestly felt like he had just opened a can of worms that he would not be able to close again.
"That's why I said your fur is pretty. It is nice to look at and does not hurt my eyes. And it looks warm. Are you always warm? Or do you get cold? "
The small creature had no idea how to respond to this. The fact that someone, this tiny girl nonetheless, was trying to continue a conversation She was clueless; she had to be. Phoenix was staring at him with a hopeful expression on her face. A part of him could not actually conjure the energy to snap at her, so with a resounding huff, he responded.
"Uh- I don't get cold."
Phoenix grinned at his answer and tried again at her first question. " What do you like?"
Subject 89P13 found himself answering even though he would have a better time not even acknowledging the runt.
"I like sleeping," he answered shortly. Only to catch the girl’s excitement dull. He growled to himself before giving a better answer. "I like making things."
He felt his stomach churn as he heard an excited gasp. He had to close his eyes to try and hide his grimace. A soft pitter-patter of Phoenix's feet echoed throughout the room as she got close to the barrier.
"What kind of things?" Phoenix asked in wonder.
"Great," Subject 89P13 groaned to himself.
" I build things like... " Subject 89P13 looked for the simplest of words to describe his 'hobby', "remotes...?"
"Remotes?" She scrunched her nose. "That doesn't sound exciting," she thought. "For what?"
" For- things. "
"What kind of things?"
Subject 89P13 was growing annoyed with her never-ending curiosity. "Bomb things. Now stop asking questions. "
Phoenix tried to stay quiet. She really did, but she just needed to ask one more little question.
"What do you need bombs for? Are you a spy-"
"Just SHUT UP! " He barked at Phoenix.
The young girl flinched at his raised tone, her expression immediately falling. She looked away and shuffled back to her mat. She ducked under her sheet and turned to face the wall. She considered apologizing but decided that remaining silent was preferable. She attempted to not let it get to her, but, of course, her shaky breathing echoed through the room. After a little while, she quieted down, her eyelids growing heavy. She welcomed sleep the second it came.
...
At some point, Phoenix had become old enough to be awake during the testing. She did not know what marked her ready for that, but over the last fifteen times, Phoenix had been poked, prodded, and injected with a wide arrangement of needles and liquids. On some special days, she would be knocked unconscious, then wake up with a large bandage somewhere stitched. Today was one of those days.
She was now laying on her bed, already tracing the bruises forming across her body. The damage is most definitely internal this time. There was a new pain behind her eyes, one that was akin to a migraine. The more she thought about it, the worse it got, so she tried to turn her attention to other things.
People began to disappear a short while after she arrived. She did not really understand where they were taken, and subject 89P13 never seemed to tell her, so she decided not to pry. The room she once felt threatened in had now turned into an empty cage, similar to the one she has been trapped in for as long as she could remember. Subject 89P13 was still around, and occasionally they would have a small conversation, his patience for her seeming to improve the older she got. There seemed to be a moment when neither one was going anywhere, and neither one wanted to.
Today seemed to be one of subject 89P13's test days, due to his absence. So, it was silent, the stuffy and loud silence she had grown to despise. The one that haunted her every waking moment. She hated it more than she could comprehend. Phoenix huffed and diverted her attention to a way to keep the silence to a minimum. Humming to herself, she discovered that seemed to work. For better or for worse, there was not anyone here to be bothered by it anyway...
So little Phoenix sat there humming out different tunes, building upon her previous works. In the end, she started producing lyrics too, none of which made much sense, but that was not the point. It was a shred of happiness, and she grasped on to it. One of the few things she genuinely believed was her own. One of the only things that they do not own.
A loud screech from the door interrupted her song, making Phoenix jump. On instinct, she scooted herself onto her mat and pulled her pillow close, keeping her gaze on the ground.
The loud footsteps of the guards were a silent promise of her companion's returning, so despite her fear of them, their presence was welcome.
There was a painful grunt and a loud thud coming from across the room, then the familiar whir of electricity. Then the footsteps faded, and their presence was gone with a resounding slam of the door.
The sound was still echoing a few seconds after they disappeared. Once it was silent, Phoenix could just make out strained breathing from across the room.
Slowly, Phoenix looked up from the ground and was greeted with all the familiar brown creatures in a fetal position. Her gut weighed thousands of pounds at the sight of new electrical attachments littering his back; the fur was freshly shaved, and the skin was grotesquely raw. She set her pillow to the side as delicately as possible and crawled to the edge of her barrier. All she could do for a while was stare in horror, her eyes watering.
"Are you ok?" She barely whispered out.
The room took her voice and easily carried it to the creature, despite her initial volume. In return, he growled out something incoherent, his back still to her. The strain in his voice was palpable and seemed to end with a stunted wail of pain. He clearly was not able to speak, even if he wanted to.
Phoenix shut her mouth and felt helpless. This was worse than she had ever even imagined. Her own aches seemed to disappear and were replaced with dread. Or was it anger?
Silence filled the air, consistently being broken with a strained groan from 89P13. It was all she could do to try to look for something to help him. All she could do was draw a blank. And so, she remained sitting at the edge of her barrier, feeling small. Well, smaller.
…
…
…
"A...at least your fur is still pretty..."
A bark of a laugh that sounded more like a gasp of pain. "You and your thing with fur—Gah!"
89P13 could hardly speak without feeling like his insides were being ripped apart. Yet somehow, he managed to laugh. His grimace was a sneer, but the corners of it turned up. "This kid," he silently laughed to himself.
Phoenix's frown turned into a look of horror as she saw the small creature force himself to roll over. She got a smaller glimpse of parts of his skin breaking and red peeking out. Then she met his eyes. "Your... your back was red," she spoke as softly as she could.
89P13 could not help but slightly grin at this. "What's n-new… " he strained through clenched teeth.
Phoenix scowled at the creature, which honestly amused him. "Are you going to lecture me-?" He quirked a brow, as his body started to sweat.
"Please, don't disappear." She spoke just as softly as she usually did.
And there it was. The thing 89P13 wanted to avoid was attachment. Be it the strain it was to speak, or the sudden shock, he honestly could not tell, but he just stared.
"I don't want to be alone again." Phoenix was unashamed to admit it. It was more selfish than she wanted to acknowledge, but it was true. Right now, she did not know what else she wanted to say anyway.
On 89P13's side, he was a statue. He swallowed dryly and soon winced in pain.
He took a shaky breath. "Me neither, kid," he barely muttered out.
They met each other's gaze in a silent promise. Phoenix wanted to say much more, but she knew nothing would have really mattered. 89P13's gaze softened, and after a few seconds, he blinked slowly before rolling onto his stomach, shutting his eyes fully. The blood is now clearly staining the edges of his fur.
With that, she turned back to her wall and laid down. Her aches were not gone, but thinking about his injuries made Phoenix feel oddly numb to her own ailments. She did not have metal in her body, or at least there was none that she knew of, and here she was being sad about it when he was in a lot more pain than her.
As she snuggled into her mat, she considered all the ways she could make him feel better. She could make a remote. He liked remotes.
Phoenix decided that someday she would make a remote for 89P13.