Story of a Girl - Part 1

By Brooke Clifford

"Hey, get up. It's time for your testing," a man clad in a typical guard's uniform spat as he poked a pole through cold iron bars of a prison-like cell. It was dawn, and the odor of a sterilized hospital mixed with that of mildew. The corridor he stood in was dimly lit, with a few mere light bulbs hanging from the ceiling that served as light fixtures. He sighed impatiently, turning around as his eyes looked to every individual cell nearby; the corridor stretching what seemed for miles had nothing but the cells.

"Did you hear me?" he asked, turning back to the cell, slamming the pole against the bars so hard that its ring echoed for a bit. "Get up. Now!" he demanded, as a low growl emitted from the cell in response. He slid back the bar door, taking a shadowy figure swiftly, a roar coming from it in response. "Don't complain to me, number 1254; you were born into this." With that, he brought the figure into a room.

It was large and spacious, and the hospital smell seemed more overpowering here than it was in the hallway. The room was brightly lit, more than the sun and moon combined. He shoved the figure into the center, as it recoiled from the sudden light. Two greenish-yellow eyes shaped as almonds glared back at the guard with loathsome hatred and disgust. Arms were kept back in two handcuffs, and the figure was made out to be female. Pale skin seemed to radiate like the moon, ebony hair falling down to the bottom of her rib cage. Two large velvet ears were pressed flat against her skull, matching her locks. A long tail swished violently back and forth, moving as a cat's would.

The guard left as she hissed, and a doctor came in, emerald eyes masked by thin-framed glasses. His soft, chestnut-brown hair was very professional and cut precisely and cleanly. "Ah, number 1254, it's been a while. Are you getting better? You didn't attack the guard again, did you?" he asked, tone genuinely sincere and friendly. She turned to him swiftly, eyes seeming to calm down, but her muscles were tense and she put on an angry expression.

"Lianna," He coaxed, as an ear perked up to show off it's cat-based frame. She never had a name, just her number; 1254. This man had given her the name, feeling numbers were insensitive and inexpressive. "Lianna, you know I care about you. Is there any reason why you should treat me so negatively?"

"Because you're going to stick me," she growled.

He gave a faint smile, "So you've learned. But it will only be for a few seconds. I apologize, neko-Lianna," he said, smile turning into a frown as he took a needle into his hands. Her eyes followed it, not liking to endure pain for any reason. He moved behind her, before piercing her skin with the metal, in her soft spot of her elbow. She growled and yelled simultaneously, until he moved in front of her. "I wasn't that bad today, Lianna," he whispered, hugging her tightly in a comforting manner.

Her face turned deep red, before two guards burst down the doors. "Adam!" one yelled, as he pulled himself from her, trying to make it seem as if nothing had happened. But it was too late: The other guard's gun shot off. Adam inhaled sharply, before he let it out with a moan, slumping over Lianna's body. Her skin and clothes were blotched in crimson, and she fell, staring at Adam's now limp body. Before she could say or do anything, she was lifted up by the scruff of her neck and thrown back into her cell so hard that when the back of her head made contact with the wall, she fell unconscious.

As far as she knew (which wasn't much at this point), she would be in huge trouble. But that was at the back of her mind right now; she was more concerned about Adam. Why had he given her a name, and why did he embrace her so? And they did they have to kill him?! It wasn't fair!

When she regained consciousness, sometime later, she woke groggily, as one would when coming out of sedation, and angry. When she could stand up again, she found a pair of eyes staring at her. Her own quickly adjusted to the darkness, and she could see she wasn't in her cell at all; a table, with a large box on the top, two chairs at the ends of the table, and a man who was in one of them, waiting patiently. For her.

"Why…" she began, walking slowly toward him, in a stalking manner. "Why did you shoot him!? Why did you kill him?! I hate you! I hate you all!" 1254 lunged at the man, claws and teeth digging into his flesh so hard that he began bleeding fiercely. He didn't flinch nor yell, but twisted her arm quickly behind her back, and she could have sworn she heard a pop from her shoulder.

"You need to calm down, 1254, you're overreacting. Or would you rather me call you Lianna, as Adam had?" He asked, turning her around and puffing smoke into her face from a cigar.

"Don't call me anything, you bastard! I hate this place and everything in it!" she yelled, trying to free herself from his tight grasp without hurting herself. "You weren't the only one that Adam had 'cared' about, you know. He spoke to many a girl that way. He was misleading, to see if your human emotions would take effect, or would your cat instincts suppress it." The man said flatly, looking her in the eye, "He lied to you."

There was a time, where for one half-hour every day, every creature would be let out of their cell and allowed to go to a small recreational area, so their minds would stay intact. 1254 slowly made her way to a tree, where she waited in the shadows of the branches. Another female soon came, lifting her hand toward the branch 1254 was perched on. The anthro yelped quietly, feeling something constrain her, and soon she was on the ground. The other girl laughed lightly, letting her hand fall to rest at her side, as the neko leaned against the tree trunk.

"Telell… I think it's time," 1254 muttered under her breath, Telell giving a grin.

"I've been waiting to hear these words from you, Neko-chan," she said, stretching across the grass. "Firé! The grass has grown!" she called, as a male moved from a half basketball court, nodding.

"The moon's restless. Let's inform Neko-chan while we can," Firé mused, flames forming at his fingertips in delight. "Okay, after recess is over, you tell the guards you want to start training; you've grown weak. They might object, but tell them it'll benefit the Research, and they'll believe it. They're stupid enough to, you know. For a month, you push yourself to your limit, until you're ready to pass out, you understand?" Firé asked, and 1254 nodded.

"We'll talk again after then, Neko-chan," Telell smiled as 'recess' was over.