Chapter Text
Chapter One
Life-A spiritual pickle preserving the body from decay
-Ambrose Bierce
While the waking conscious world gnawed hungrily at Lee's mind, she tried to stay in that vague fog between the oblivion and reality. But reality was very insistent. She was going to have to get up and face the day no matter how tired she was. Even if her joints creaked and her bones felt heavy and too solid. Stone like, even. Gray eyes opened wide, adrenaline singing through her veins and making her legs tingle. A cautious look around the room gave her an unexpected blessing for the morning. No guards and no expected guests. The day might not be so bad.
Not that the room offered anything worth rolling over for. Same padded walls, same nondescript door with no latch on her side of course. That would have made things too easy for her. She’d even dug under the padding, breaking and snapping her nails to find a hinge or a plate that could be exploited. No such luck. She was surrounded by that awful off-white color, even the clothes hanging from her. If depression could be given a color, it would be this sideways white. This lack of dye. This sterile but-not-too-white cloth. The material was starched so hard it was nearly canvas. And the sleeves were too long, if she was going to make a mental list of every tiny, horrible detail. Time was all she had and she could afford the extravagance of being hyper critical. One would think that as long as she’d been there, someone could have at least gotten her size right by now. But no, an extra three inches of the hateful material covered her fingers. Which was just as well. They hid the ragged, sore stumps of her nails from everyone. Wouldn’t want those to be a burden.
She’d wedged herself in the corner of the room with her back to the door. It wasn’t that it was a comfortable place to be. If she was being honest with herself, she couldn’t remember why she’d decided to cram herself in that uncomfortable angle. Sleeping out in the middle of the room was too creepy. She never knew who she was going to wake up with looming over her prone body. It had happened more than once.
If she squinted hard enough, she could almost pretend this was a mental institute in some well funded city with private nurses and a wealthy clientele. Well...perhaps not given the clothing. The padded room did help in that delusion what with the plethora of space and design. Almost. (Again, the clothes were a bit of a tell.) There was no visible light source; instead the luminescence came from the very walls. At least she thought that was the trick. And why not? There was so much money being funneled into this facility, she was surprised they didn’t have their own reactor built into the core of the planet.
The door was the real enemy. Programmed to open upon voice recognition, card reader and a retinal scan. So unless she was very clever and very violent, which she hadn’t proven herself to be, she was stuck. Which had proven to be the state of existence for...well, she wasn’t sure. She’d tried to keep count more than once. By making small marks on the walls with her bloody nails. Dramatic, but effective. Until they’d cleaned it up one day and erased her work.
So she’d shredded her sleeve and made a knotted string, counting her days. Until a guard had discovered it and...well, that hadn’t ended well. He probably thought she’d been planning to kill herself. Joke was on him, she also wasn’t that clever. That and she still had some slim hope that someone would come find her. She’d roll over one morning and hear her mother’s voice saying her name. She could almost smell the scent of her perfume. And then the tears came and despair and oh, she was tired .
There was a camera monitoring her somewhere but it was hidden so well that she hadn't been able to find the damn thing yet. She would have ripped it from the walls if she had. If anything, it was a daily exercise. That and walking the seven steps from one wall to the other, back and forth like a caged tiger. Only she had never been vicious and wild, just free.
Behind her the door's locks (and there was always more than one) disengaged in a muffled snickt of steel sliding over steel. Lee didn't have to turn around to know she was no longer alone in her musings. Doors were never unlocked in this facility without a good reason. That reason was standing over her now, she could feel it. Which was another thing about the room she detested. The floor was padded like the walls but didn't dip and sway like a cushioned surface should. A rampaging elephant could sneak up behind her with the quiet grace of a feline. She could scream her fool head off and no one outside would hear her. Not that they had come running when she did.
"My dear Leah, how are we doing today?"
She winced. It was an automatic response when she heard his voice. And he never called her by her actual name. It was always Leah; her real name was too masculine for her, or so he'd told her. Denying her family given name was just one of the many torments the doctor delighted in. There was something so disturbing in the way he breathed the last syllable of that name, like a sigh.
"It's early." For a fact, she didn't know what time it was. She wasn’t even sure time was a concept accepted in this room. No clocks to accompany her. And no windows to give her something to look at. But the doctor was the picture of punctuality.
He usually visited her early, before half the compound was awake. He’d already been up for hours and had his breakfast: egg whites and toast. A half a grapefruit or some citrus on the side. Sometimes he’d deviate from the normal routine and have some sort of oat affair. Coffee and no cream or sugar. Because calories were bad but locking women up without their permission? Acceptable and approved by a board, apparently. And she knew all these terribly tedious things about him because he dragged her to breakfast when he was feeling lonely.
Well, he had until she’d finally crossed a line and flipped his meal into his lap. To be utterly fair, she had only done so because he’d crossed every line she had drawn in the sand. Than he had pissed on her sandcastle of life. The guards hadn’t been very gentle with her afterward and she had learned a lot of respect for how they could juggle a hysterical woman and wield a baton with finesse and power.
"I've got something marvelous to show you. Come, come you must get up now." His voice practically glowed with an eagerness that she hated more than the room, more than her scratchy clothes. He was always so chipper but never had any real mirth. There were no laugh lines etched onto his face. No warmth in his eyes. If he was amused at anything, he held that emotion only for himself.
Although she would rather have stayed in that corner for the remainder of the day than look at him, she climbed unsteadily to her feet with a grimace. The corner wasn't certifiably insane. Thankfully he was already out of the room and waiting for her. For a fairly rotund man, he was quick on his feet with agile hands and a viper reflex. She couldn’t even grab a fork at hand to stab him with. Before her hand twitched, he’d already have the silverware in his surgeon’s grip and ringing for security with the other.
Beside him, two guards stood poised and ready to pounce. If she made one offensive move they'd be on her with a swift violence. All three had been through those motions too many times to count. It was nearly a ballet for them. With her clumsy feet, she could even dance to the art of violence and desperation. Not well, sadly. Which was why she'd given up some time ago. She’d grown tired of losing to them and the savage thrill they’d gotten from inflicting every measure of violence they could within professional standards. And still, they anticipated her surliness with an apparent relish. The doctor wasn't the only one who was nuts. He just got paid more.
She crossed the room and stood before the men without looking any of them in the eyes. Obedience was easier for her than it had been the first few times. Odd that the three seemed to miss the caged anger in her, which she found stupid since they'd gone to great lengths to drive it out of her. Lost in her thoughts, she almost shrugged. That was another quirk she had developed. Getting lost inside her meandering daydreams was becoming a more frequent occurrence. Often it felt like she was walking through a dense fog that never really helped take her away from the place. She was always too aware of the clothes, the prison, the routine. The misery.
Lee hadn't even realized they were walking down the hallway until one of the guards grabbed her shoulder to stop her from walking into the doctor. When had he stopped? When had they started down the hall? What the heck had she been thinking about to miss those few steps?
Her bleary gaze focused on the hallway lined with other rooms exactly like hers. All numbered in seemingly random order, her room was D-05. From what she'd gathered the code stood for Detainee number five. Hell, maybe it was Depression number five. Other rooms were numbered T-01 through T-10. What she couldn't figure out was what the T stood for. Either it was Trial, Treatment, Test or Torture. From what she new about the good doctor, she felt any of the choices were possible. There were other letters too, but who cared? Her eyes kept drifting to the doors numbered D-04, D-03, D-02, and D-01. They were empty now, this she knew with painful clarity.
With a non-too gentle push she found herself in a restroom. Same old routine again, they would give her ten minutes to take care of her business, brush her teeth and change into a new set of clothing that one of the guards had shoved into her hands when she hadn't, again, been paying attention. She could cry with the sameness of it all if she had the energy too. That was another trait they'd driven out of her. Tears were simply wasted here.
She’d sobbed and pleaded. Begging had even been an option. She’d looked into their eyes, made them look at her, and had gotten nothing for her trouble. To her dying day, she’d never forget that feeling of looking a fellow human in the eyes and not being given the courtesy of being acknowledged as anything but subhuman. What that did to someone…
Fuck it. Maybe she should try to pick a fight with them just to break the monotony of it all.
Sighing, Lee slipped out of the scratchy pants and shirt. Nude, she contemplated the shower. She could wash-up but she would have to be quick about it. Usually she only got her hair scrubbed quickly, and body rinsed in time to jump out and jam her clothing over her still wet skin before the guards bounded into the room. They'd haul her out of the room naked and full of soap if they felt the need to. The doctor was always so impatient.
The water was lukewarm and the soap had no scent whatsoever and felt harsh on her skin. But if there was anything to gain from this, was that it was clean. And the systematic routine of showering with clean hand made soap helped remind her that there was a former life out there from all this off-white lunacy. There were other people out there waiting for her. Staring at the soap, she didn't know if she liked this thought or not. Hearing a warning knock on the door, she dropped the soap and quickly rinsed her hair. Now was not the time to be lost in thoughts. Sliding into her clean clothing, and finding no socks to protect her bare feet from the harsh concrete floor, she hastily combed her fingers through her dripping hair. The material clung uncomfortably to her wet skin and she wondered how many times she could do this before she caught pneumonia. Would he cure her if she did?
Before the completely shatterproof mirror (she would know), she brushed her teeth and tried not to meet her own eyes in the reflection. Easier said than done. Like a magnet, her eyes were pulled to the reflection. Before she could help herself she looked, actually looked hard at her image, something she hadn't done for ages. Now she knew why.
The person reflected in the flat surface wasn't her. This was a complete stranger meeting her eyes with a wounded pride. What the hell had happened ? From the bruises under her eyes, to the sunken cheeks, to the shorn uneven hair that brushed her jaw-this was a vague distortion of her former self. Her hair had once been a platinum blond, luminescent in it's health. Now it had the sheen of dirty gray ice. She couldn’t blame the pallor of her skin on the lighting, either. Sick, she spat out the tasteless toothpaste and rinsed her mouth out. When the guards threw open the door, they found her gulping down water greedily from the sink.
In the hallway the doctor pulled a crisp, white handkerchief and wiped the water from her chin like a father would favor a daughter. Lee wanted to make him eat the square of starched cloth. As if sensing the menace, one of the guards, a tall, dark and utterly serious individual named Maynard, grabbed her shoulder and squeezed meaningfully. As if she didn't know. She and Maynard had been dance partners for far too long. She knew he always led an attack with his right arm. And bedamned if she knew how to stop the freight train of a man.
Fatherly ministrations aside, the doctor led the group away from the room and further into the compound. At the end of this hallway there was a set of double doors with the same security as her detainment cell. Once the doctor disengaged the locks and they opened with a small swish of air, the guards pushed her through into an identical hallway, which led them to another set of locked doors.
Again Lee's attention slipped and she was lost in her thoughts. She paid no attention to the bland halls or the bored guards. Even the doctor seemed to be settled into his own fanatical mind. They were nearing the center of the compound, which housed the computers and a few labs. Despite the two guards behind her, she paused momentarily when they passed by the main computer terminal. A memory flashed before her mind making her stumble into the somber guard behind her.
How are we going to get in there?
Who cares? We got this far, I say we set the charges and run like hell.
We can't do that! What if someone was killed?
They're killing people as we speak.
Someone's coming; we'll get in there later. Go!
"Leah?" His inquiry jarred her out of the memory with a start. She could still remember Cara and Wyatt's whispered words. Had that really happened such a short time ago? Or had it been years? "Leah!" Lee jerked her eyes away from the door and met the doctor's gaze. He glanced briefly at the door than turned his umber eyes back to her. "Ah. Reliving some fond memories, my dear?"
She felt the dormant anger in her simmer briefly at his taunt. But she didn't let it out, just pushed it down to wherever it usually slept. Being angry, no matter how good it felt, would get her nowhere. The people in this place fed off of the negative emotion. With calm indifference, she shrugged and lowered her gaze passively from his face. From her peripheral vision, she caught the doctor's emotion momentarily. He had seemed disappointed. What did he want from her?
The door forgotten for the moment, they moved on past the compound toward the labs. Disquiet was building in Lee. She had been dragged to five similar labs like this one and each time had been a nightmare. What was she doing back here now? What could he possibly believe she would want to see?
The doors here were heavily secured. Two armed guards stood beside each door. If one could get past these two, then they would have to get the door open. To get in the lab one had to do all the other motions to open doors in this place, then enter a numeric code into a small computer in the center of the door. Even if one could figure out the code, it would only be good for that day, as the researchers here changed the pass code every day. It was overtly tedious and impossibly redundant.
The fear curled in her belly like a serpent; the only outward sign of her unease a brush of her thumb along the inside of her fingers. There was no point in freaking out yet. If she turned and ran, the guards would be on her like a pack of dogs. She had first hand experience with their tactics. They worked so well together, they were almost one unit. Better to grit her teeth, bide her time, and follow along blindly with the mad doctor.
Grabbing her hand in his excitement, he tugged her through the doors like an expectant child. While they walked briskly past two, three, four labs, he started chattering nonstop. "It is an unbelievable find!" Lee barely listened; she was too busy trying not to slip on the smooth floor as water dripped from her damp hair down her body. She was already cold, but as she caught some of his words, she was turning downright frigid. He was tugging a statue of ice behind him.
"This creature, it is an amazing find. Completely violent, went through twelve of our best men before it was subdued." He chuckled, a sound that had Lee's teeth grinding together painfully. He thought so little of his own men! It wasn't surprising; she knew what madness he was fully capable of. But seeing the excitement shine in his eyes, hearing his voice dance with glee; she was reminded all over what kind of man he was.
They stopped abruptly before a lab marked with a simple "danger" sign. This small warning seemed ominous and somehow understated. Lee didn't want to go through that door. The doctor's excitement was palpable now; he squeezed her hand with enough force, her knuckles popped. This time one of the guards, the smaller blonde, disengaged the lock and pulled the door open. Before she could think of escaping, Maynard had a strong hand on her shoulder as the doctor all but ran down the dark hallway.
Why was it so dark? It was like an unused hospital wing, sterile and silent as a tomb. Spaced evenly down the ceiling were three lights that added little brightness to the hall. There was an observation room at the end of the short hall on their right, with a thick wall of (hopefully) unbreakable glass looking into a shadowed room. Here is where the doctor waited for her. The guard had graciously pushed her down the hall to stand in front of the glass, there he held her. She didn't bother looking at her companions; instead she peered uneasily into the room, interested in spite of her own fear.
This wasn’t the same old routine. This was far worse. Something infinitesimal had changed for her when she wasn’t looking. The game had shifted and she was left with a new playing field that was foreign to her. As her stomach knotted, she almost longed for the same old run-of-the-mill routine. The small talks and baited taunts. Anything but this.
It was almost completely black, except for the scant light shining from the hallway. What was so wonderful in this room? Despite herself, she leaned closer to the glass. All she saw was a shadowy darkness, so black it was flowing across the floor from the back wall. Wait…a moving shadow? Lee gasped when something shining like liquid satin crawled across the floor and settled before the window. As she jumped, she felt Maynard let go of her and take a step back as well. Only the doctor stayed put and stared longingly through the window at the malevolent creature.
Although the glass was shatter proof, it wasn't sound proof. They could hear the creatures muffled hissing as it stared at them with no visible eyes. The thin pane of glass didn't seem thick enough to contain such a monster. Lee backed up even further into the guard behind her. The creature watched her movement with a smooth twist of its elongated head.
"They call it a Xenomorph. This creature was discovered some years back by a salvage crew. Its remarkable, never have we seen anything like this species. I have been gifted this chance to study and advance a whole unknown frontier with this one creature. I haven't been able to study it closely, as it's far too violent. But very soon I'll find a way to subdue it and then I can learn more. It can teach us so much, Leah. You’ll see. I will show you." The doctor caressed the glass almost lovingly; the creature reared back and regarded him with open hostility.