Ghosts in the Sun

The clack of heels ricocheted off the walls of the dimly-lit tunnel, the torn and faded posters hanging from the sides like bodies strung up high on nooses. The Draculoid's hot breath rushed through his vampire mask and down the back of my neck, making the fine hairs stand up in tiny, perfect points. His iron grip was clamped down on my wrist, squeezing the bones together painfully and puncturing my pale skin with his sharp nails. He twisted my arm at a agonizing angle, punishment for me being too weak to keep up with the woman's pace. In my peripheral vision, I could see he had his right hand on the butt of his white ray gun, waiting urgently for her order to kill me. I could feel his itch to pull the trigger coming from his lab-coated body in waves.

She walked ahead of us, quickly, much too fast for my slow legs to keep up. The light at the end of the iron passage shone in the distance, surrounding her body in an almost angelic halo. Her short black bob flopped against the base of her head every time she took a large and purposeful step. Anyone passing by could see that by the hunched shoulders and intense stride meant she was boiling with anger.

I didn't know what they wanted with me. I've hardly ever been out of my cell since the testing began. I didn't know these people and I didn't know what they wanted with me in this strange place. Maybe more thought adjustment videos, even though they never worked. The spiraling black and white patterns just made me nauseous, not submissive. Or maybe more drug combinations in an attempt to crack the code of my immunity to the miracle Korse had discovered.

I winced. I didn't want anymore of those. I'd gotten one just before they'd come and whipped me out of my minute prison. The protruding blue vein in my left wrist still throbbed from the shot administered less then ten minutes ago, the serum pushing through my body like adrenaline. I had been injected so many times since Battery City was first formed in 2013 that I'd lost count. At least two everyday for three years. I didn't like the testing. It made me burn from the inside out, as if someone had lifted a lighter to my essence. The drugs made me feel dull and lifeless, like I did now, but they never seemed to have the correct effect. I still didn't know what that was.

Suddenly, the strange woman whirled around sharply, slanted black eyes more venomous than I would have ever thought humanly possible. She clenched her fists and the muscles under her tight black suit sleeves rolled threateningly. I didn't know who she was, but I could already tell she was menacing and powerful and heartless. Shocked, I stumbled back into the Drac. It felt like I was hitting a wall of cement, definitely caused by the armor he wore under his clothes. He growled like a raging wild animal and shoved me forward, my bare feet skidding on the cold metallic ground.

“Watch where you're going, bitch,” he snarled, grabbing a fistful of my greasy brown hair and jerking my head upwards. My hands flew upwards and pressed against my skull in an attempt to soften the pull, the abrupt hurting sensation replacing my sluggish reflexes temporarily. Clumps of hair were yanked from my scalp in aching bunches, burning pain forming near the follicles. I stood on my tiptoes in order to try and lessen the tension's strength.

“Marcus!” The woman snapped, her authoritative voice sounding like broken glass. Her face pinched up in distaste at the scene. I could practically hear her thinking, “It's my job to hurt her; not yours.” Her features softened and she smiled sweetly at me, but her eyes still held their snake-like glint. “Let's not harm our guest.” She cooed in a honey sweet tone, yet adding poison to the last word. We all knew I was not invited for this life; being poked and prodded. But I knew they were secretly frightened of me. To them I wasn't just an innocent, nonthreatening ten-year-old, I was a malfunction.

The Draculoid emitted another inhuman growl and reluctantly let go, forcing me forward. I stumbled, set off balance from the force. Staggering, I reached for the side of the tunnel to steady myself, but someone grabbed my outstretched arm and jerked it around, forcing me to face them.

She stood there, smirking evilly at me. She was so close that I could see my dirty face and frightened eyes in her seemingly too-large pupils. Her nose brushed up against my own, black hair enveloping her long face in a curtain. The woman's high cheekbones pulled at her skin and made it taunt, complexion gaining a grayish tinge in the poor lighting. She looked like an angel of death.

She reached up with her free hand and encased my throat with her long, icy fingers, squeezing teasingly. A smile played at the corner of her red lips. I could count the pores on her forehead. The strong scent of her rose perfume burned my nostrils. She released my forearm and reached into her pocket, withdrawing a clear tube of frothy white liquid. She tossed it to the Drac and I heard a soft plunk as it landed in his gloved palms. The sound of rustling fabric filled the tunnel, indicating that he was searching his own pockets for something.

The woman looked over my shoulder and grinned maliciously, her sharp profile catching the fading light. She turned her attention back to me and stared straight into my eyes, boring a hole into my soul. In spite myself, a tiny shudder rippled through my body. That must have pleased her because her thin mouth parted even wider, revealing two rows of pearly white teeth.

“Sugar, you've been a bad little girl,” she whispered to me, pushing her unoccupied arm behind me and towards the Drac. She wanted the vial. The woman withdrew her hand, a needle now protruding from the end of the tiny bottle. I squeaked like a scared rodent and tried to twist away. I didn't want any more drugs. They made me sick and tired and useless. They made it so I couldn't fight back. I kicked my legs feebly, but the woman just tightened her grip. I could feel my heartbeat pressing against her fingertips. My head throbbed and my vision went blurry.

“This is what happens to bad little girls,” she hissed. A sharp nip pricked the back of my neck. My head spun violently and the world tilted at a sickening angle. Everything I saw gained fuzzy edges and the drab colors turned distorted. My body was heavy and leaden, only held up by the woman's grasp around my neck. I heard her chuckle.

For once, there was no pain.

Just blackness.