89P13

You get the message on your beeper at 03:43:21. “RED ALERT.” You blot out of bed, grabbing your electrical prongs and your coat dashing from your dormitory to the lab. You hear the gunfire before anything else and curse to yourself as you burst through the doors into chaos. 

“Alert, alert, alert!” The alarms sound, spinning red lights through the dark halls.  A guard runs past you, frantically cursing. 

“What’s going on…” You stumble as something sharp hits you in the back of your knee and you fall. You hear a yowl and a scream and try to pull yourself up, limping through the shadowy halls towards P13’s cage. What is happening? Your mind spins as you drag yourself to the doors and slam your ID badge on the scanner. It beeps red and spits sparks making you stumble back, grunting in pain. “System override.” You curse, peering through the thin windows in at the cages and your breath catches. 89P13’s cage is empty. You turn around and scream as another bolt of burning pain hits you in your left leg. Your knees give and you crash to the ground. A technician runs past you pressing a weeping bandage to their face. “Alert, alert, alert.” The red lights glare making your head spin and you try desperately to orient yourself. You will make for the main corridor of the building and you slowly claw at the wall, inching along. Why are the halls so long? You stumble over something and look down, your stomach revolting. A handler is slumped against the wall, its mouth gaping. They have no eyes, just bloody dark holes. Scratch marks on their neck. You swallow your vomit and continue though everything around you pitches and tilts.

You turn the corner, the alert system blaring in your ears making your brain rattle in your skull. You blink and can just make out four guards and two drones at the other end of the corridor, they turn the corner and are lost. You teeter, stumbling farther and slowly descend to the ground. There’s a boom sound that sends you vomiting and a flash of orange light and hot air that breezes past you. Smoke fills the hall, itching your eyes as you cough and try to clear it away. 

Your legs. You cannot feel your legs anymore. Something sticky and deep maroonish red is spreading out around you, slow and taunting. You sweat, you shake. The floor is cold. You look around the wide hallway and the lights above flicker, sparking and going out. But you can still see the others. They are dead. A bullet in Breva’s neck. A few more in Utal. Several feet away Quarn is still moaning. Your head is heavy, it hurts to blink. Your arms tremble trying to hold you up though your legs…your legs are useless. You try to cover your ears over the sound of gunfire, but you fall flat on your face into the unforgiving floor. The bullets are so loud, so pounding they shake your brain in your skull. You hear the echos of screaming the carnivorous snarl of something some creature. You will yourself to look up once more, checking both ends of this hallway that is so, so long. To the right, you see the feet of a dead orderly. To the left you can make out the scraping of claws against metal and the smell of gunpowder. You try to crawl forward towards the double doors, but hot rods of pain spike up your legs and into your hips like lightening and you pant, hanging your head to stare dizzy at the ground. That smell, that metallic smell of blood, you know it well. Only now does it terrify you. The pitter patter gets louder, interrupted every so often by more gun fire. The sound of flesh being torn, ripped and broken, screaming, crying. Begging. More snarling. Your brain tells you to get away, make it through the double doors. Your body cannot comply. It is to hurt, too tired. Still you drag yourself further, so close…so close to the doors. You can see through the crack underneath, you swallow mouth dry. So close, your heart bounds with each agonizing movement. So close so….

 Click click.

You blink slowly, and your breath shudders. This time it is not from the fiery throbbing in your legs or the hammering in your head. 

“W….where….r….roo…ket?” 89P13’s graveling voice asks. It stands before you, those eyes. Red and large and yet filled with nothing.  It holds its stolen gun with one paw, aimed squarely at your head.  It’s whiskers twitch, it’s tail lashes. “W….w…were roo ketts?”

It’s eyes narrow, as you struggle to make out what it is saying.  The fur covering its body is thin and patchy. Looking at its neck you can see the flesh pulse, moving with every inflection of its words. It snarls, pointed white teeth painted pink with blood. You close your eyes, trying to focus but your brain feels too tight in your skull and you are spinning even though you know you are staying still. Your right leg twitches and you curse with the flash of white pain. 89P13 holds its gun steady, swallowing, looking at you with those eyes. Those pupil-less eyes. Soulless. “Rookts!” It barks, then winces as though the speaking has caused it pain. You can see it, under the grey and brown fur, the bulbous scared flesh of its body. Pus and dried blood crust around the implants in its collar bones. The cybernetics under its temple, the skin stretched tightly over it so that you can see the protrusion. It’s chest heaves in and out…in in in…out. In…in…in…out…out….ouuuut. It shakes as it stands, swaying. You can see the augmentations in its hips, it’s chest. And still it is not complete, 89P13 snarls once more foaming at the mouth even as it’s body wavers. It is a half-formed thing. Incomplete. “Wheres…rckts?” You look from gun to where the double doors are still shut. “Weapons Bay 753210” reads the sign above. Missiles, ships, rockets and the like.

“Aaaarrrghhh,” Quarn groans, though it has less breath behind it than before. 89P13 keeps looking at you with those red eyes, keeps the gun pointed at you but reaches with its other paw for its sidearm and points without looking. There’s an ear-splitting bang and Quarn goes silent.  You glance at your bloodied wrist, the armband that can control the cybernetics from within P13. Of course! You move to push a small blue button and curse as P13’s claws wrack down your tender skin. Its pointed teeth latch on to the wristband no matter how hard to try to pry it off. But you are so tired you can barely move. The band comes loose with a snap and P13 steps backward, gun aimed once more. This time it clutches the wristband between its teeth. The lights flicker again in uneven succession, and you feel the throbbing in your lower body get worse. The initial numbness that comes with adrenaline after being wounded now receding. Giving way to agony.  P13 bites down, the metal crunching under its enhanced jaws. You watch its body shudder as the cybernetics within send electric shocks through the nervous system, stretch the metal rods in its limbs. But P13 only looks at you, snarling as it shreds the wristband, withstanding the agony as best it can, one eye twitching as the socket behind it malfunctions. You watch in horror as P13 spits the band out, a crumpled piece of metal.

“Ro..ckts!” 89P13 clicks its gun, bloody foam dripping from its muzzle. It’s flesh twinges and it takes a labored breath. A piece of flesh is stuck in the top right of its teeth. You wonder who it came from. “Ro….roccckts! Where?” It is then you understand, and you point with one trembling finger at the doors behind the animal. 89P13 cocks its head like a canine in confusion, those eyes widen, ears perking upward. It drops it’s sidearm and raises its enhanced arm to its chest, pointing with one clawed finger to itself. “Rookett?” It asks. Its voice is small and low and soft and…hopeful? “Rookt?” it repeats almost to itself.  The light above the two of you sparks, sending streams of light downward illuminating the battered little experiment.  89P13 is still pointing at itself. It is a child. A child who does not understand the nature of its existence. “Roccct!” It growls hiccuping in pain and the moment is shattered. You jab your finger to indicate behind him once more and blink. Why is your vision going fuzzy at the edges? You feel warm and cold all at once. The moment is shattered, 89P13 looks over its thin shoulder at the doors and then back to you. Its eyes are so red, pools of blood. It’s pulverized body stumbles but it catches itself, hacking in its own pain. It presses the cold barrel to your skull, but you can hardly feel it. It looks at you, those eyes you first saw the day you cut open it’s sow and brought it into the world. The scabs on its left implant break and red blood trickles from its clavicle. It bares its teeth, snarling at you and you feel it’s hatred. It’s malice, it’s agony. It wants to kill you. It will kill you, you realize this slowly. Your body is too exhausted to care. It says something you cannot understand and for a moment you think you can see tears in its eyes as its body tenses and pulls the trigger backward. It shakes, it’s tail now still. Every hair on end. Its gaunt flesh is inflamed, and you can smell the chemicals, the blood, the infection on it. 89P13 lets out an agonized shriek and you close your eyes, knowing what is coming. There is a bang, but it does not hit you. 

You open your eyes, though your lids feel so, so heavy. You are still alive. For now, you think as you see what you realize has been your own blood all along expanding outward from your legs. You try to focus, you see the double doors swinging and a ringed tail flickers before disappearing behind the doors.