Failure-64
New member
- Joined
- Aug 7, 2022
- Messages
- 9
There was something different about the Doctor that day. He was distant and uncaring about their routine -- he didn't even take notes when she had managed to break through her previous record on power level. A feat she had been particularly proud of and celebrated with a traditional "Hoorah!" even if he wasn't looking in her direction. She could only assume it was an off day for him. Perhaps his coffee was too cold, or the weather made his joints hurt.
Regardless, she was steadily improving, though maybe not as quickly as she would have liked. Surely, he was proud of her.
It was that very naïveté that kept her smiling as he led her to the storage room. The room where all of her failed "siblings" were laid to rest. Rows of pods and smaller glass containers held blobs of indistinguishable masses. Their fleshy bits gradually took form as one went deeper into the room. Fleshy balls were replaced by vaguely humanoid shapes. Some even sporting features and missing only a few bits and bobs to call them properly formed.
In the back of the room, three empty pods remained. Failure-64, Failure-65, Failure-66 was written in neon red text atop the windowed door, each of them ominously empty. They were for future projects that didn't quite live up to expectations, though why the Doctor was taking her here was enough to have her tilt her head and almost question him. Almost.
He opened the door to the Failure-64 pod, a loud hiss echoing in the narrow room as white fog spilled onto the floor around their ankles. Defeated, the Doctor grunted for her to get in.
She hesitated, even though she knew he hated it. She questioned him, even though she knew it wrong. They even argued until his sharp tone silenced her, assuring her that it was only temporary. Funding, he had explained. Cost of living, food... Excuses fell from his lips, despite disappointment so obvious in his eyes.
Reluctantly, she chose to believe him. She chose to walk inside the pod, following his command just like she had been for the past two years.
Glass shattered as she fell forward, her body sluggish from the sedative that had kept her asleep. She didn't even feel the bite of the shards slicing along her forearms, or the feeling of concrete against her bare knees as she fell to the ground. All she could do was gasp, her now-frail body struggling to adapt to the oxygen of the room. Or... No... That wasn't why she couldn't breathe.
The world spun into focus, the edges of her vision blurring as she blinked and looked about. Fires lined the walls leading back to the research facility. Where pods had once been neatly lined remained only shattered glass, fire, and the occasional spray of body fluids. The gases that once filled the pods now lined the floor, creating a horrible miasma that was made worse by the smokes of the flames.
The woman coughed, body trembling as if she were an enfeebled old woman. It was then that she realized that there were a pair of boots in front of her.
Panic gripped her entire body, squeezing on her chest as she sat up right, and her eyes bolted upwards to see a man with neatly cut black hair and cold, distant eyes. He hadn't hurt her in those agonizingly long moments it took for her to wake, so she could only assume he was friendly. Using her former coffin as a brace, she pulled herself to her feet, noting how off balance she was, and the throbbing ache that radiated from her body.
Even her bones felt stiff. How long had she been asleep?
"Who are you? Where is the Doctor?"
Regardless, she was steadily improving, though maybe not as quickly as she would have liked. Surely, he was proud of her.
It was that very naïveté that kept her smiling as he led her to the storage room. The room where all of her failed "siblings" were laid to rest. Rows of pods and smaller glass containers held blobs of indistinguishable masses. Their fleshy bits gradually took form as one went deeper into the room. Fleshy balls were replaced by vaguely humanoid shapes. Some even sporting features and missing only a few bits and bobs to call them properly formed.
In the back of the room, three empty pods remained. Failure-64, Failure-65, Failure-66 was written in neon red text atop the windowed door, each of them ominously empty. They were for future projects that didn't quite live up to expectations, though why the Doctor was taking her here was enough to have her tilt her head and almost question him. Almost.
He opened the door to the Failure-64 pod, a loud hiss echoing in the narrow room as white fog spilled onto the floor around their ankles. Defeated, the Doctor grunted for her to get in.
She hesitated, even though she knew he hated it. She questioned him, even though she knew it wrong. They even argued until his sharp tone silenced her, assuring her that it was only temporary. Funding, he had explained. Cost of living, food... Excuses fell from his lips, despite disappointment so obvious in his eyes.
Reluctantly, she chose to believe him. She chose to walk inside the pod, following his command just like she had been for the past two years.
Glass shattered as she fell forward, her body sluggish from the sedative that had kept her asleep. She didn't even feel the bite of the shards slicing along her forearms, or the feeling of concrete against her bare knees as she fell to the ground. All she could do was gasp, her now-frail body struggling to adapt to the oxygen of the room. Or... No... That wasn't why she couldn't breathe.
The world spun into focus, the edges of her vision blurring as she blinked and looked about. Fires lined the walls leading back to the research facility. Where pods had once been neatly lined remained only shattered glass, fire, and the occasional spray of body fluids. The gases that once filled the pods now lined the floor, creating a horrible miasma that was made worse by the smokes of the flames.
The woman coughed, body trembling as if she were an enfeebled old woman. It was then that she realized that there were a pair of boots in front of her.
Panic gripped her entire body, squeezing on her chest as she sat up right, and her eyes bolted upwards to see a man with neatly cut black hair and cold, distant eyes. He hadn't hurt her in those agonizingly long moments it took for her to wake, so she could only assume he was friendly. Using her former coffin as a brace, she pulled herself to her feet, noting how off balance she was, and the throbbing ache that radiated from her body.
Even her bones felt stiff. How long had she been asleep?
"Who are you? Where is the Doctor?"