Futuristic a game of cat and mouse. | fxf

[heartstringss]

a human experiment.

heartstringss & ShadyToad101
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content warning:
human captivity, medical experimentation,
mental illness perceived as "biological flaw",
drugs, alcohol, abuse, human trafficking,
coercion, corruption, needles/syringes,
death, self harm, other sensitive themes
​

 

[heartstringss]

Dr. Johanna Bergman was no fan of failure. A subject had died, no doubt by her own fault, but that didn't mean the experiment was a failure or that it needed now be terminated too. Technically speaking, this hadn't even been her (the subject's) first death. The first death had occurred 12 years, 3 months, 6 hours, 13 minutes, 23, 24, 25[...] seconds ago, when both her parents had perished together in a car accident leaving their two young children to fend for themselves as orphans. How soon after had she attempted her first suicide? How many more had followed when the first one had failed? How many stents in long-term psychiatric care had she had? How long would she continue to remain (in her words) "a burden to society"? It was only a matter of time… For all of them, it was only a matter of time before they finally succumbed to defeat. The world was sick yet it refused to change; instead it pointed its finger back at them and somehow justified deeming them sicker. How could humanity possibly go on like this? Would they ever be able to move past it, past all the self-inflicted suffering, worldly oppression and wrongdoing? …or were they doomed? (Could they have–perhaps–been doomed right from the very start? Were they always destined to fail, to go extinct? Was this God's plan all along? Did God even exist or was their mere existence simply a flaw of evolution in itself?)

The body soaked in a tub surrounded by milky water, the face half-submerged, eyes bulging, tongue lolling out the right side of its mouth. An unpleasant smell of marinating flesh and blood rose from the water. The doctor had seen her flat-lined vitals on the monitor long before any of the other subjects had woken and knew she had to find some way to get the body out of there before the others realized that she had died. If she didn’t do so beforehand then she’d be facing the risk of a spike in more resulting suicide attempts, more potentially successful ones like Asa’s had been. With one of them now gone, it was likely the others would share an equal sense of impending doom, a similar sense of hopelessness that might drive them to desperation in their longing for its end. She couldn’t afford another failure, couldn’t afford to lose them all. One death would set her back months, maybe even years, but a whole series of deaths would likely set her back decades. Jakob didn’t have that long–his condition was progressing far faster than normally and she already felt like she could barely keep up with it.

In Asa’s bed there now lay a new subject, and once the others woke up it was certain they would notice right away. The doctor had a whole host of other subjects on standby, second- and third- choices which had been on the back-burner for what must’ve been months, her assistant still attending sessions all around the country just waiting until the doctor called her up and told her that she had another bed to spare or that she’d finally gotten around to adding more so that she could further expand her research. They’d had to deploy some gas while everyone was sleeping to make sure that nobody woke up while one body was being moved upstairs and another took its place. The new girl in question was also knocked out, whatever personal belongings she’d had on her (keys, phone, wallet, jewelry) removed and packed safely away. No electronic devices of any sort had been allowed. This left her in just her street clothes sans any accompanying belt or shoelaces; her makeup also wiped clean, nail polish removed, skin washed to free the room of any penetrating scents or fragrances. They did this for the boys too, usually taking the same amount of time even when they had far less steps to take with them. It was a ritual of sorts. For the doctor, this routine was calming. For her assistant, it was an opportunity to spend some time together and work with the object of her desire in particularly close contact.

A whiteboard stuck to the wall in the corner office area of the lab. On this whiteboard was a series of pictures and bullet points detailing the names, ages and conditions of each specially chosen subject. There were two men in the experiment–the Hispanic man Carlos and the white college boy Peyton–and two women–the veteran Kassandra and now the pretty, soft-spoken Vivien. There was one more bed open in the human fish-bowl that was the divided containment area for each subject; she’d had it ready for Vivien already but then Asa’s death had occurred and now she’d have to pick another 5th participant to take her place instead. It would likely be some time before she’d get around to filling it, though, what with one subject abruptly passing and now having to rush to acclimate the new one, she surely couldn’t handle keeping up with two. Not without her assistant moving into the lab full-time to help her out more also, which she frankly didn’t want to happen because then she’d have to socialize more too.

Johanna was a solitary, quiet woman. Her house tucked far away into the Catskills was not visible from the road, her name not searchable in any physical or online phonebook. You could find details of her accomplishments online if you searched her full name with the honorific title, but to do that first someone would have to be even mildly aware of her existence. There weren’t likely very many people who were still alive today that were–at 43, both her parents were now at an age they’d lost most of their mental faculties if not passed from stroke or heart attack; her brother was too sick and most days not taken very seriously by anyone, not even by his own doctors or friends, few as they were themselves. The local sheriff knew her name, but only because he had to—after all, it was his job to know the names and addresses of everybody living in the surrounding area, otherwise how could he account for them if ever there was a disaster or some other reason he would need to contact them?

There were old lab partners, teachers, fellow school alumni that might remember and recognize her out on the streets or online from time to time, but most only remembered her as a strange and unusual woman, and did not actively seek to know what she’d accomplished in the last 15 years of her professional career or personal life. Most would sooner forget her very existence so that then they could claim ignorance whenever her sins finally emerged unto the world and all the skeptics climbed out of the woodwork to question her peers, “how is it nobody had known? Why didn’t anybody choose to speak up?”

Johanna had been responsible for so much pain and suffering. Late at night, on the few nights that she chose to entertain the thought of sleep, this evil haunted her inside her nightmares. She dreamt of being burnt alive, being hung, injected full of poison–corporal punishment methods that had long expired with the times. She needed to succeed or else what would her life work come to show for her? Would she be uplifted as a genius or be cursed to an eternity in hell? What of the victims? Would they move on to greater, brighter futures like she’d promised, or were they too destined to fall like Asa?

She’d never wanted anyone to die. She’d never wanted anyone to suffer. If anything, she’d only ever hoped to prevent those circumstances. No more pain, no more suffering–a longer, fuller life is what her research promised. She hadn’t lied about the monetary promise, either. Now that Asa had passed, her body would be returned to her brother with the gift of a large sum for her contributions made to science, no other details. Carlos, Peyton, Kassandra and Vivien would all receive sums too, if by any luck they managed to survive the experiment, or to their families if they didn’t. They had signed that in their contracts, for whether they’d read them or not there was a legal knot that had been tied, an explicit giving of consent for studies they didn’t even know specific details of.

“Would you like me to stay with you any longer, Doctor?” Her assistant asked, still looming near her elbow (far too close for comfort) while Johanna transferred Asa’s whiteboard hangings to the computer seated on her desk along with recorded time of death and made new markings on the whiteboard to account for Vivien’s addition.

“I’m fine here, you may leave,” Johanna said, her voice devoid of any emotion. No expression of gratitude followed. She reached under her desk to key in the pin-pad combination and unlock the basement’s one door that was sealing it off from access to the rest of the house. It was a show of trust that she didn’t also insist on showing the assistant out; that she was willing to let her leave of her own volition, without a supervisor or accompaniment; that she didn’t think she needed to watch her every move on the way out or need make sure she didn’t linger past her welcome. She didn’t look at the woman, only continued staring at her whiteboard and kept writing down her notes. “They’ll be waking up soon, I think you really should leave now.”

With that, the assistant made her way up the long, spiraling set of stairs to the ground floor landing. She cast one final sweeping gaze over the landscape of the lab: the fishbowl in its center, all beds occupied save for one; the subjects sprawled or curled in the fetal position atop thin mattresses; the whole room illuminated beneath several dozen bulbs of harsh white light. She could see the faintest hint of stirring as the first subject came to, could see the doctor taking notice, how she now sat down at her computer and stilled her hands over the keyboard, ready to take first observations and reactions as they came.

Before the first subject’s eyes opened, she grasped the doorknob in one hand and twisted, slipping out of the lab and now proceeding quietly unto the house where, despite the ever-present daylight in the lab, it was now evening and the sky outside was dark.

It was Kassandra's bed that faced the plexiglass wall aligning Asa–now Vivien’s–bed on the other side and it was she who woke up first, she who noticed nearly instantly (ever the perceptive eye) that her prior neighboring cellmate had been vacated and replaced with an entirely different person.

“Asa?” She whispered, even as she knew the person on the other side of the glass wall wasn’t Asa. She touched her hand to the shape of the woman's shoulder where it lay against the glass of the adjoining wall. “Asa? Where is Asa?” The more times that she asked, the more her voice rose shrilly, a fresh wave of panic quickly taking root. The more she yelled the more she stirred her other fellow cellmates. The more subjects came to, the more they too noticed what had changed, and the more first impressions and new observations that were made the more the doctor typed away. It was this clickety-clacking noise which had become the soundtrack to all four of the subjects’ fresh new waves of panic, even Vivien, who would soon begin to stir in her bed too.

The doctor pressed a key to begin a new document for note-taking, this one labeled "Test Subject #17, name: Vivien Hilton."

 

[ShadyToad101]

mrrrrrrrrrummmm derrrrrum veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeem

These sounds: even in the haze.

Vivien lay curled on a thin mattress of a wire-framed bed. Her glazed brown eyes stared out into the nothingness of her cell, and her hair fell around her shoulders in unkempt, frizzy waves. The sedative they gave her was powerful, but even now she was beginning to stir. The harsh white light burned behind her eyes and her breathing became more shallow as the drugs ran their final course. Colors, shapes, and faces swam in her vision, voices whispered and wrinkled hands reached out for touch, none of this would be remembered as Vivien balanced on the brink of consciousness. But still, it took time, and there was nothing to do but wait.

...

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I made you a casserole."

Donna stood in the doorway of Vivien's studio apartment, the smell of melted cheese and fresh chocolate chip cookies wafted into the room and permeated in Vivien's nostrils.

"Oh! Thank you! Do you um- wanna come in?" Vivien spoke in her usual soft, quiet voice, and gestured towards the living room.

The woman stepped inside without saying a word, a kind smile warmed her face, which accentuated the wrinkles around her eyes. She stood at eye-level with Vivien, and her warm-brown hair, with hints of grey, tousled around her shoulders. Donna briskly placed the aluminum-covered dishes on the kitchen counter, then turned to face Vivien. "What a lovely place." Her voice was warm and slightly husky.

"Thank you! I just got it a few months ago." A slight smile snuck across Vivien's face.

Donna nodded but made no further attempts at conversation. The silence made Vivien uncomfortable.

"Do you wanna sit down? I- I can make some lemonade!"

...

"Oh, sweetie, that sounds so hard."

The two of them sat on the couch, Donna was gently rubbing Vivien's back. The touch felt warm, familiar, and safe. Vivien hugged her knees to her chest and stared at the floor with wide, teary eyes. A half-eaten plate of chocolate chip cookies lay askew on the coffee table in front of them. Donna continued without waiting for a response.

"I think you're very brave for speaking up at yesterday's session. I'm sure there were people there who were inspired by you. I know I was." Donna gave Vivien a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. "You remind me of my daughter you know. Gosh, you two would've been such good friends."

Vivien scrubbed her sleeve across her face and drew in a breath. "Thanks. I know it'll be okay. I just feel a little... overwhelmed sometimes."

"After everything you've been through I can only imagine." Donna said quietly. Her face was soft but her eyes were predatory. She spoke after a slight pause: "I don't know if this interests you, but I just heard of a research study that's in need of participants. They're paying up to 30,000 dollars. Maybe that could help you with college?"

Vivien's eyes flicked up when she heard the monetary amount. "Is that real?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

Donna's eyes slightly narrowed. "Yes, it's a top-level study."

"I don't know. Would I have to do anything hard?"

"No, you just have to show up."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vivien's pupils contracted as the world slowly came into focus. For a moment she stayed still, petrified under her wool blanket. People were yelling, but she ignored the ruckus - for now. Her eyes slowly dragged across her room. For a moment - for one sweet fleeting moment - nothing she saw registered. Then the adrenaline kicked in. Vivien propped herself up on her elbows as she took in her surroundings. She was on a bed in a glass box, somewhere beneath the ground, there were people next to her in other boxes. There was a door with no handle.

Stay calm.

In a daze, Vivien threw off the covers and stood up. She was slightly wobbly on her feet due to the aftermath of the drug. There was a stunned look at her face, her mouth hung open and her eyes bulged like a rat in a trap. But she was silent. Once again her eyes flicked across the room, this time taking in the countenance of her cellmates. Three other people were trapped in the same boxes, their skin was pale and their eyes seemed so desperate. They were yelling. Yelling a woman's name. What had happened? What was going on? The hysteria further fueled Vivien's trepidation. Her heart pounded in her throat like an alarm clock. Panic slithered around her brain but Vivien stamped it out.

Stay calm.

Vivien looked down at herself. She was wearing the same clothes as before. Before what? Where was Donna? Vivien looked once more at the glass door in front of her. Breathlessly, as if in a dream, she moved towards it. Everything felt like it was in slow motion. Vivien pressed herself against the door, put all of her weight on it, it didn't budge. She was trapped. Trapped in a room the size of a large closet, surrounded by people who seemed so scared, so desperate.. This didn't make any sense. This wasn't possible. This couldn't happen.

STAY CALM.

Vivien drew in several shallow breaths as her hands began to tremble.

"Can- can someone please tell me what's going on?" She croaked.

 

[heartstringss]

The last thing Kass remembers is waking up to the hiss of gas, those brief few seconds of adrenaline before she slipped under and fell back asleep.

In her foggy subconscious: A hum of machinery. Clanking, rattling. The heft and heave of a gently lifted body. Quiet, murmured voices. Cold, then warm, then gradually back to cold again.

* * *

Kass was on a bus. She was back home in Kansas City, Missouri, but she hadn’t truly gone home–yet. She was stalling. How many times had she ridden the #24 back and forth across town? How long had she been avoiding seeing her little brother’s face, her father’s silver mustache, her mother’s wrinkled brow? She hadn’t even called to let them know that she’d been discharged. Her chest felt heavy, hands clammy and cold even in their thick wool mittens. She wasn’t ready to see Ethan’s picture on the mantle, knowing now that she would never see his face again in any other way. She’d returned for the funeral then had to ship back out again so quickly after. This was the first time she’d be home and really have the time to grieve, to process. To say she wasn’t ready, frankly, was an understatement.

She had been doing most of her grieving just sitting so long on that goddamn bus.

* * *

Nightmares. She’d been having nightmares again, though this time they were… different. The memories were foggier, the picture more jumbled, the sounds far more nonsense than they were anything realistic. The doctor had been messing with her memories. She couldn’t remember her platoon leader’s face anymore, the blood that had been splattered all over his uniform when he had died, the great big hole left in his chest where he’d been shot. But she could still feel the sense of terror, the dread and heartache, the adrenaline, the fear of failure, death. She just didn’t have as good a sense of direction where she was supposed to aim these feelings any longer. Even in her sleep she clutched the collar of her shirt and pulled, grasping at her chest like one would gasp for air. A haggard breath ripped from her. She turned her head and pressed her forehead to the cool glass, her eyeballs fluttering behind closed eyelids, blinking open for a second though not seeing–certainly not comprehending–what they saw.

* * *

It’d taken all of three months back in the U.S. before Kass had her first official breakdown. Her parents had been supportive thus far, insisting they could house her, clothe her, feed her (even though she barely ate) for however long she needed ‘til she was ready to take her first steps on her own. She’d entered the military right after high school and never thought to consider whether she also wanted to pursue college; never had to worry about things like rent or mortgages, the cost of living, the very things one needed to understand about this world to even make it–let alone to just survive.

There was an air and water show happening somewhere by the river, a lot of noise of planes cutting through the sky at high-velocity speeds. She walked outside with earbuds in, music playing, sunglasses on–but when a stream of jets flew overhead, she stopped hearing any music, could barely hear anything else through the noisy roar of all those engines, besides perhaps the pounding of her heart and rush of blood inside her ears. She dropped her phone and fell to her knees right there outside the bus stop, shrinking up like a tiny child, her eyes squeezed tight, hands pressed over her ears. Somebody touched her and, without thinking, she immediately lashed out. She struck with such force it sent the person–a teen, a girl, likely no more than 16–propelling backwards, falling hard onto their own hands and knees.

After that, it was damn near impossible to get away with lying. No longer could she keep denying symptoms.

* * *

Asa had been patient, kind. Far too good for all the vast amounts of pain and suffering that her life had brought her, which the doctor had only added and piled more onto, not actually helping her–or anyone–at all. Far too good for any of them. Even Kass felt unworthy.

When she finally woke up and realized her closest, dearest friend inside this hell had been removed–replaced–Kass didn’t think, she just panicked. She didn’t think about her other cell mates, the new girl who had taken Asa’s place, the fact that they were all clearly being baited, documented, watched… She hollered and cried and beat her fists against the smooth glass door and damned the gods and anyone else who cared to listen ‘til her throat felt sore and raw. Eventually she slumped to her knees and hung her head inside her hands, her tears turned far gentler, quieter, so that when the new girl next door croaked up and finally spoke herself for once instead of screaming Kass just listened.

She slumped back, weight braced against her calves and let her arms drop to her sides. There on the cold cement floor, in her thin grey t-shirt and worn jeans, she looked this girl over and… well. Frankly, she just didn’t have it in her at the moment to be kind.

“We’re trapped,” she said hoarsely, trying not to laugh. As if it wasn’t obvious. “Rats in a lab. Bodies rented, sold, all for the promise of a few measly thousand dollars. So get comfortable, you know.”

Carlos, the older Hispanic man within their circle, smacked the glass pane of their connected cells to draw Kass’s attention. She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. “Mija, do better. She new. It not her fault.”

Kass scowled, turned away and looked over the lab. It was then she noticed the doctor’s blonde head peeking out over the wide dual monitors of her computer. She could also see the whiteboard, and with perfect 20/20 vision she could just make out their names, including the new girl’s. Where Viven's was written was the exact same place that Asa’s had once been but was now erased. Kass rose up and from her new vantage point she could see the doctor's eyes watching her studiously. With her cell being front- and center-most alongside Vivien’s, this meant they had the least amount of obstructions to hide behind and were much more clearly visible than the boys.

“You animal, you can’t just replace us in the middle of the night like you’re taking out the trash when one of us is gone.” She kicked the glass with her foot, cursing when she remembered that she didn’t have her shoes on currently. “What’d you do with Asa’s body? Why don’t you get out here and fucking introduce yourself, huh?”

 

[ShadyToad101]

Vivien stood stunned in the middle of her cell, her mind reeling as the world seemed to spin out of control. The magnitude of her situation was so great, so incomprehensible, that it rendered her unable to move. She felt like a child strapped to the front of a runaway train, only able to watch as she plummeted toward her death. Air whistled out of her throat as she sucked in shallow breaths. A true deer in the headlights. She watched with wild eyes as Kass screamed and banged against the glass, her face twisted in rage and screams that rang in Vivien's ears. For a split, fleeting moment, Vivien found herself grateful for the glass barrier that separated her from Kass, and protected her from the fury on the other side.

Is that gonna be me?

Unconsciously Vivien rubbed her thumb and forefinger against the hem of her red sweatshirt. A simple graphic of a dinosaur printed, and the words "GREAT PLAINS DINOSAUR MUSEUM. FIELD STATION - MALTA MT" were printed on the front. Below that Vivien wore a simple pair of loose jeans. Little did she know she would be spending many, many months - perhaps years - in this outfit.

Her face didn't change when Kass's fire burnt out and she slumped against the floor. Vivien's mouth was still slightly agape and all the color drained out of her face, it was an expression surprisingly similar to that of a dead fish. Before Kass spoke a heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by Vivien's rapid shallow breathing. It took a moment for Vivien to register the meaning of Kass's words.

"Bodies rented, sold, all for the promise of a few measly thousand dollars. So get comfortable, you know.”

Her face crumbled and she let out a very quiet sob.

"This isn't happening. This can't be happening." she spoke just under her breath. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over her cheeks, her hands rose to her head and she pulled on her hair. She paced back and forth along her cell.

"This isn't real. This was a mistake. I ca- I can't- I can't do this oh God please help me." Her voice got louder with each word she spoke and her hands and legs were shaking. She was about to lose it when Kass spoke again.

"Why don’t you get out here and fucking introduce yourself, huh?”

Vivien followed Kass's gaze and for the first time noticed the lean woman sitting behind the computer. For a moment she was still, contemplative even, but then she wiped her tears and wordlessly walked up to the locked door, tapping on the glass to try and get the doctor's attention.

"Ma'am." There was a tremor in her voice, but it was controlled. Vivien was exerting every ounce of her will power to keep calm. The words spilled out of her mouth: "There must be some sort of mistake. This place is very impressive and I'm sure you're very smart but can you please let me out? Please I- I- I can't do this I get nervous when I'm locked in a room I'm sorry if I did something wrong I know I can be really stupid please just let me out I'll do anything you want I mean it. I won't tell anyone. Oh my God please don't kill me I'm sorry."

Vivien sank to her knees and pressed her forehead against the glass door. Snot was dribbling down her chin and she banged her fist once against the glass, and looked up at Johanna with big, round, terrified doe eyes.

 

[heartstringss]

Kass's propensity for vulgar language, by this point, was well-documented and expected. The veteran PTSD-sufferer had been a part of the study longest of all the doctor's (current/living) subjects–nearly a year to date–and always displayed the strongest reaction to any perceived slight of injustice. That Asa had killed herself rather than be put down like a sick dog did not, in fact, matter. She would mourn her later, as she promised she would do with any lost loved one whose death inevitably needed mourning. For now, she could only channel, focus on and prioritize the wants, needs and desires of her rage. She had no space inside her head or heart for anything but rage… Rage that she expressed by screaming at the doctor, purposely directing all the other patients’–especially Vivien's–attention to the desk where Dr. Bergman sat behind a large set of sleek dual monitors, so that potentially they might join her in slinging abuses at the doctor, too. The boys might, but Johanna didn't expect that Vivien would. From what she understood of the picture Donna had painted, Vivien was a fighter but not a fighter like those who armed themselves with claws and words and teeth. She was a much quieter, gentle type who armed herself uniquely with compassion and with knowledge; who had no real ill-will for anyone, not even those who'd previously done her a great deal of harm. Which meant right now she would most likely be flying blind, for though she might've built some semblance of familiarity with Donna, she knew nothing whatsoever of the woman whom Donna had been working for–spying, recruiting and abetting.

Johanna could tune out Kass but not the new subject. Whether she gained each participant's trust or was given unquestionable verbal consent was, simply put, irrelevant. She could get what she needed from them with or without their help; if they resisted she would simply gas them, put them in restraints and administer a concoction of drugs to make them more compliant. They'd already signed away their rights to uncertainty, recantment and nuance–maybe they didn't all realize it, but alas, they had. It was all in the fine print.

(Never sign amything that you haven't read carefully and in the presence of a lawyer. Consider that a lesson learned.)

While Vivien stressed and cried over the perceived cruelty in her new reality, Johanna watched unperturbed and continued to say nothing. Kass, even beaten down and tired as she was, could not stand to watch other people suffer in silence, and so began to sober up. “Sorry darling,” she spoke gently, brow furrowed while she stepped up to the barrier between their two adjoining cells and touched her hand to the cool sheet of glass that separated them. Her face reflected her heart's true state of duality, equal parts bitter and sad. Her stomach twisted with shame and guilt. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news but yes, this is indeed happening.”

Johanna wasn't opposed to subjects building connections and forming relationships (whatever made their stay more tolerable and the subjects themselves less problematic, she supposed… at least it'd helped Asa hold on somewhat longer), but right now–so soon–it made her nervous. She stood abruptly, hand braced atop her desk providing stability while she maneuvered herself around the structure and came closer to the fishbowl. She stood tall, posture neat and regal with her spine straight as an arrow and her shoulders carefully back. Her long, pale blonde hair was smoothed and neatly pinned into a tight knot at the back of her head; her eyes calm, stoic even. She wore a stiff white collared shirt and a long pleated black skirt. Like her nails on the keyboard prior, her heels click-clacked with every step. She held a clipboard in her hand, reading off it as if consulting a patient’s chart.

“Subject is Vivien Hilton, born February 13th, 2002, twenty-two years of age. No official clinical or psychiatric diagnosis. Subject presents with high levels of anxiety and has been sufficiently maladjusted since re-entering society approximately eight months ago.” Her dark brown eyes lift off the paper, landing on Vivien even as she pressed her forehead to the glass and her chin dribbled with snot. The doctor's own face was blank, no sign of repulsion or malice. She didn't judge but simply observed. “This is you, is it not? Therefore I assure you there has been no mistake. You were invited into a high-reward experimental research study and here is where you are. I do apologize for the inconvenience of confinement but it is a necessary evil with the length and nature of this study. However, I assure you, you are not being punished and have done no wrong. I have not brought you here to kill you; I simply wish to cure you, and others like you, of your maladjustment.” She reached into a pocket of her skirt and withdrew a syringe filled with clear liquid. The cap remained over the needle for the time being. "If you would prefer, I can come in and administer a sedative to help you calm down until such time that you adjust. I understand the circumstances can be quite jarring but unfortunately the locked door shall remain a must. It's what's best for everyone's safety, yours and my own."

 

[ShadyToad101]

"Sorry darling."

Vivien momentarily turned her head to look at Kass, though she took care to keep Dr. Bergmann in her peripheral vision at all times. The woman's demeanor had drastically changed from before, but her words, no matter how gently delivered, still caused Vivien's stomach to twist. The obvious pain in Kass's eyes only drove the point home. This woman - her cellmate - seemed so sincere in what she was saying, and that sincerity terrified her. The harsh light glinted in her eye as Vivien blinked away another tear, and she offered Kass only the very slight shake of her head.

It was then that she heart the clacking of the Doctor's heals, and Vivien snapped her head forward and instinctively her gaze fell to the floor. Her shoulders hunchedand it wasn’t until Johanna began speaking that Vivien found the courage to lift her eyes to meet hers. She wasn't who Vivien was expecting. She was an older woman, tall but thin. No obvious sign of muscle but still physically imposing. She seemed.. ordinary, the type of woman you would pass in the grocery store, or doctor's office. There was a slight release of tension in Vivien's chest. The situation was terrifying, yes, but at least she didn’t have to worry—as much—about something worse. Still, there was something about this woman that commanded attention, and the brief sense relief vanished when the Doctor began to list off information.

“Subject is Vivien Hilton, born February 13th, 2002, twenty-two years of age..."

Vivien caught a sob in her throat as this woman read intimate details of her life off a piece of paper. It was only then that the reality of her situation sunk in. This wasn't a mistake, it had been planned, and it was all because of Vivien's own stupidity. When the doctor's eyes lifted off the paper, Vivien broke away her gaze. Her face flushed and the tips of her ears burned red. A new emotion was added to the whirlwind of Vivien's current state: embarrassment. Johanna's emotionless reassurances did nothing to help.

The doctor lifted up the syringe and Vivien clenched her teeth. Her body began to shiver as a fresh wave of adrenaline coursed through her system. That needle was the last thing Vivien wanted near her. She wanted to yell, to run, to hide under the covers and close her eyes and never open them again. But Vivien was still, and quiet, forcing herself to think through the panic. This might be her only chance to get the doctor to open the door. It could be her chance to get out before something really bad happened.

She was silent for a long moment as she got herself under control. "I.. would really... appreciate that.. right now thank you." Vivien carefully annunciated each word as she spoke, but there was a tremor in her voice. She slowly stood up and backed a few feet away from the door. As the Johanna approached she thought through her plan. As soon as that door was open and she was looking away, Vivien would shove past her and run as fast as she possibly could.

Vivien waited breathlessly for her moment to strike.

 

[heartstringss]

Kass could see where this was going from nearly a mile off. She was always surprised by how long their captor managed to fake-tolerate the crying, screaming and hysteria… one look at the doctor’s face and she could see that mask was slipping. How long before she aimed to subdue Vivien? How long before she simply gassed them all? Would they ever figure out what happened to Asa? What did she do with their bodies after they were… gone?

“…I have not brought you here to kill you; I simply wish to cure you, and others like you, of your maladjustment.”

Kass’s teeth gritted with these words. She bawled her fists but didn’t strike the glass another time, because by this point she had regained enough sense to notice that her violence was not serving anyone; it was only frightening her new counterpart and making her wary of both her and the doctor, and that wasn’t good. Instead she stood stock-still, chest vibrating with rage and seething with the feeling that her heart was too rawly exposed. (Would she read the rest of their charts next–lay them all bare on the table–or simply wait to introduce them to each other until the time came for their first inevitable group session? In the end, Kass felt shamefully grateful that it only wound up being Vivien’s chart she read out loud.)

Without moving from the glass wall closest to her new cellmate, Kass watched the doctor as she pulled a capped syringe out from her pocket and offered to administer a sedative to Vivien to help calm her down. Her eyes turned sideways to regard the younger woman where she knelt against the blank wall of the sealed door, noticing the slight flex of her jaw where she had clenched her teeth behind closed lips, the gentle tremble of her shoulders–things the doctor wasn’t close enough or human enough herself to notice. Would she accept the sedative or turn it down? The whole lab was silent while they waited for the answer.

"I.. would really... appreciate that.. right now thank you."

Kass drew in a sharp breath and held it. She looked through Vivien’s cell and the adjoining empty one beside it, stretching her neck to catch eyes with Peyton. He looked back at her and then turned his own head to look on at Carlos. They all watched Vivien with baited breath as she stood up and slowly backed away to give the doctor room to enter. When was the last time any of their doors had been opened without prior being subdued or in some way restrained? The last time Kass could remember was when she herself had been brought in… and of course the doctor still had a faint scar on her forehead to remind her how bad an idea that had been. Was she underestimating Vivien now, or was this new girl really that afraid, that stupid?

Johanna nodded wordlessly with Vivien’s response, taking a moment to turn around and set her clipboard back onto her desk before she walked straight up to the tank and laid her hand over the glass. Where previously this area had been clear-translucent and showed no outwardly visible differences with the rest of the glass, now the shape of a small box appeared around the doctor’s hand, the glass turned faintly opaque and lit up lively blue. A series of small dots traced over the doctor’s hand, mapping the intricate lines and whorls of her hand-print. Within seconds, there was a quiet beep and the screen changed to read “Access granted: Welcome, Dr. Bergman.” The lights above Vivien’s cell changed from stark white to glaring red, as at the same time Dr. Bergman lowered her hand and the subtle outline of the door emerged and then silently swept open. If nothing else, this was a not-so-subtle testament to the height of tech the doctor secretly had access to. This was only a hint of what was yet to come.

“It would be better if you went ahead and laid down,” the doctor said, now merely feet away from Vivien and close enough to see the way her pulse stuttered erratically inside her throat. At over six feet tall–6’4” if you count what she gained in heels–she clearly towered over the much younger woman, and even more so when it seemed the doctor was only capable of looking at anyone from down the long line of her very straight, sharp nose. Whether she suspected anything of Vivien’s plan to try to escape–or the other captives silently goading for it–was unclear. Behind her, the door remained still open. The newly-changed red bulbs pulsed faintly overhead.

Once Vivien had taken a seat on the edge of her bed, the doctor stepped closer and joined her. She silently uncapped the syringe, pressed down on the plunger to draw the first bead of liquid to the tip of the needle and release any air bubbles, and waited patiently for Vivien to lay back. As she was leaning down to inject the sedative into her arm, two things happened:

First, a deathly quiet swept over the lab. Everyone’s heartbeat skipped at once. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of water trickling through the pipes and tiny gaps in the cement that fed into the small carved trough that snaked across the floor. The doctor pierced the needle into Vivien’s bicep. She did not yet press down the plunger.

Secondly, the lights flickered. The timing was ironic, and so without thinking, Kass laughed. It broke the still silence like an unexpected gasp of breath. The doctor’s head shot towards her, gaze piercing, brow furrowed in warning. Kass glared back and then smiled. She saw the shift in Vivien’s demeanor, the hint of what was yet to come.

Before the doctor could turn back and finish injecting the sedative, there was a sudden weight and pressure change as Vivien rose off of the bed. She pushed and bolted past her. As she did, the syringe fell out of her arm and clattered loudly to the floor. Within seconds, Doctor Bergman clambered to her feet, and before Vivien could fully reach the door she shot out a hand and grasped her by the back of her shirt. She yanked and pulled hard, causing the younger woman to stumble back into the room and cry out. The doctor descended on her immediately. While Vivien screamed and tried to force her way out once again, Kass abruptly joined in on the chaos and started yelling, smacking on the other side of the adjoining glass wall, urging Vivien to ‘get up’ and ‘run.’

“Shut up!” The doctor yelled suddenly, voice loud enough to cut over the din of all this yelling and screaming. Her shout of anger echoed faintly in the small tight chamber of the lab. Kass’s ears rang with it. In the next moment, a hand flashed out and snaked coldly underneath the frizzy cloud of Vivien’s hair, stopping only when her fingers grasped the smooth nape of her neck. “You should not have done that,” she told Vivien, as in the doctor’s other hand emerged the syringe once more. Without another word, she jabbed the needle into Vivien’s shoulder and pressed down the plunger–hard.

“And neither should you,” Johanna said to Kass and the others as she stood and quickly left the room. She swept the door shut behind her and then turned back to the control panel, re-deploying the cell's lock. As the light inside Vivien's cell changed back to white, the doctor sighed and continued poking at the panel until eventually the vents inside Kass, Peyton and Carlos's cells all creaked open and poured out a plume of milky white gas. The three coughed and yelled but all sank to the floor just as the doctor began to climb the staircase leading to the upper level of the house. She gave one last solemn look over the lab before she turned all the lights off–save for one–and then walked through the door.

 

[ShadyToad101]

Vivien followed Johanna with her eyes as she set her clipboard down and made her way to the tank. She watched breathlessly as a door materialized out of the glass. What she was seeing was impossible, if defied everything Vivien knew about the world, but there were more important matters at hand, and the sudden appearance of the door only served to underline the futility of the situation: she was truly trapped, and she wasn't gonna get out on her own.

Before Vivien could make a move Johanna was already blocking the doorway. The woman was fast. Vivien's heart sank, had she lost her chance? The harsh red light cast Johanna's eyes in shadow, and as she stepped into the cell Vivien found herself silently wishing for the safety of the barrier and for the door to disappear again. She watched Johanna with such intensity that it was like nothing else existed.

"It would be better if you went ahead and laid down."

She was obedient. Vivien slowly walked backwards with stiff steps, keeping her eyes fixed on the Doctor at all times. Every muscle was tense. She was waiting, watching for the right moment to break away. But Johanna kept herself squarely in front of the door, and her eyes stayed attentive. Vivien's legs hit the bed and she sat down with a thud, her fists clenched the fabric of her jeans so tightly her knuckles turned white. This was a mistake. The woman was a lot bigger than she seemed behind the glass, and Vivien knew deep in her bones that she couldn't take her in a fight. Why couldn't she had just stayed quiet?

Vivien curled her toes as the Doctor bent over beside her and prepped the syringe. This was too close, too intimate, she could feel Johanna's breath on her neck and see the whites of her eyes. All the color had drained from her face. Vivien opened her mouth, she wanted to call it off, to say this was a mistake, to beg for mercy, but no noise came. She was a silent witness to her fate. When Dr. Bergmann injected the needle Vivien's brows furrowed and fresh tears welled in her eyes. It was only now that she found the means to speak.

"Please-", she was cut off. Johanna jerked her head away to look at Kass, and Vivien seized the opportunity. She shoved Dr. Bergmann away and dashed to the door. Her feet pounded against the concrete but just as Vivien reached the doorway she was jerked back into Johanna's arms. She screamed, a loud, desperate noise that echoed throughout the room and pierced into ears.

"LET ME OUT!!" she shreicked. Vivien thrashed against Johanna, twisting and contorting her body in any means possible. She pushed and pulled with all her might, every ounce of her strength, but Johanna's arms were like steel. She grabbed the nape of her neck and Vivien let out a squeal. She felt the jab of a needle, and everything went black.

...

Thump thump thump. The pounding of her heart in her ears.

Vivien pried open her eyes, and slowly rose to a seating position. Her head was pounding and her tongue felt thick and heavy. It was dark now, and hard to see, but once again Vivien flicked her eyes across the room. Her expression stayed blank, but she silently rose to her feet and crawled into her bed, paying no heed to the neighbors - Vivien didn't have the energy to care. She hugged her pillow to her chest and threw the blanket over her head like a child. Muffled sobs filled her cell. These were true tears, different from the desperate, terrified cries of before.

She was a fucking idiot.

Only 1% of human trafficking victims are rescued. She had been given another chance, to start her own life, to fulfill her dreams, to finally start living for her fucking self for once, and she couldn't make it eight months without blowing it. Was she that dysfunctional? That broken? Was she incapable - perhaps undeserving - of freedom? She had been saving up to take a trip to Chicago to see the Field Museum. She wanted to see the real Archeopteryx skeleton in person. Now she had lost her chance.

Tears stained the rough fabric of her pillow.

 

[heartstringss]

Sobbing. In the quiet stillness of the empty darkened lab, this sound is the only thing quite loud enough to permeate the walls of Kass’s faintly drug-addled subconscious. Such an awful… deep… and lonely sound. Familiar. Too familiar. It’s enough to make one’s gut wrench, that lonely wallow like cold fingers twisting at your insides. Kass shrivels up into herself, folds her long legs to her chest and hugs her knees close. The concrete floor is cold beneath her cheek, even colder with the dampness of her skin from where her own eyes weep in sympathy. Her body aches still from the fall. Her heart feels far too heavy to get up so instead she wallows in self-pity from the floor.

Several minutes tick by on the clock. Not that it matters too much–this space is a vacuum and they all lose track of time down here, even the doctor. The next time Kass opens her eyes, the room is quiet save for Carlos’s soft snoring and a faint sound of sniffling. Kass turns over to her back and looks both ways through the adjoining glass walls. She notices that only she and Peyton still remain lying on the floor. They’d all been out of their beds when Dr. Bergman had hit the gas, no surprise she hadn’t relocated them. How much time had passed since she had gone upstairs…? Minutes? Hours? Days? It was hard to tell without sunlight.

Once she’s awake enough to make herself finally sit up, Kass feels her bones creak with stiffness as she moves and her joints pop and she sighs aloud. Her jaw is tender, sore. When she touches it, it stings, and she assumes it must be bruised from when she fell and hit the floor. She blinks a few times blearily and reaches out her arms to grasp the stiff edge of her mattress, hauling herself up on shaky knees. The blind tumble into bed is haphazard and wholly un-cautious, an exhausted giving-out of muscles that can only be expected when one’s clearly reached an all-time low. Her fingers reach to grab her blanket and her jacket, stretching both atop herself and then hunkering down inside their warmth. She burrows her nose into her pillow, shuts her eyes and tries to go back to sleep.

The sniffling heap of blankets on the other side of the adjoining glass wall puts a pin in that plan fast.

For a split second she nearly addresses Vivien as Asa. Fortunately she manages to catch herself but not soon enough before it starts to hurt. Her heart wrenches with fresh panic, hot tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. She turns over and faces the glass, looking at the heap of blankets on the other side where her new neighbor has clearly disappeared and letting loose a sigh. (But she has not disappeared, has she? No, she only wishes she could disappear. They’d all been there, of course.)

Kass doesn’t realize she’s been chewing on her lip until at last she goes to break her silence. A pale hand snakes out of the blankets and lightly taps the glass. Her voice is hoarse and crackly when at first she speaks. “Hey,” she clears her throat gently, watching as the bundle twitches and then abruptly stills. Cool blue eyes stare out patiently, not pushing any further. She’s chewing her lip again but this time doesn't stop. Oh well. “...I’m sorry if I scared you earlier. Are you okay?”

 

[ShadyToad101]

A small gasp escaped her lips and Vivien tensed under the bundle of blankets. Her arms tightened around her midsection and just as her heart began to pound in her ears a hoarse voice rang through the silence.

"I'm sorry if I scared you earlier. Are you okay?"

Vivien was silent for a long time. In the chaos Vivien had forgotten about her cellmates, and selfishly thought she was alone. How long had Kass been watching her cry? A twinge of shame crept up Vivien's spine. Her pathetic crying had been on display this whole time. Was she not entitled to even a sliver of privacy? Was being locked in this cage not punishment enough? What had she done to deserve this?

Reluctantly, she turned, poking her head out from the covers. Her frizzy hair splayed out in every direction, and her tear-streaked face met Kass's gaze. Her deep brown eyes were already puffy from crying. Vivien took a moment to study Kass, watching for hints of judgment or malice. She seemed concerned and.. genuine. But could this be another trick? Another Donna? Vivien was apparently a terrible judge of character.

Vivien broke away her gaze and stared into the nothingness of her cell. It would be better to say nothing, to protect whatever shred of pride she had left. But the need for answers overpowered her sense of self preservation.

"What’s going to happen to me?" Her voice is barely audible whisper.

 

[heartstringss]

It was hard to remain optimistic in what was essentially a shared prison of solitary confinement.

Looking at this girl, Kass felt… not pity, not shame, least of all not abhorrence. No, what she felt was much more like concern. Concern for the conditions that had made her seem appealing to the likes of Dr. Bergman (and whatever sick, twisted fucks the doctor worked for). Concern for the lengths that Vivien might go to get free, concern for how much her body, mind and spirit could bare before inevitably they’d snap and she wound up like Asa. It was a concern driven by compassion, the bulk of which had surely contributed–if not outright been the cause–of all her own struggles Kass had faced in these last 5-and-some odd years. She felt too much, thought too much; had surely tried but failed to drown it out. It seemed this guilt of knowing would remain always her crux to bear.

Spoiler: CW: suicidal thoughts and ideation

...all those lives that had been ruined, all the families that’d been shattered… some soldiers came back home and blew their heads off within months. Kass had thought about it, nearly acted on it once or twice, but every time the gun was in her hand she simply couldn’t pull the trigger. to think: how could she possibly do that to her family once again… as if there weren’t so many triggers she had pulled without a single seed of doubt at all? to think: her (own) family had already lost one child to this type of senseless violence, as if there weren’t so many countless others who had arguably been through WORSE? did she truly think her pain was more deserving of relief than theirs?

God, her mind was spinning. A vein inside her temple bulged, a wrinkle split across her forehead. She watched as Vivien turned her head and stared up at the ceiling with an expression of such pensive forlorn and her heart just ached. Somewhere behind them there was a shuffle as Peyton woke up, picked himself up off the floor and dumped himself into his own bed with a heavy sigh. Vivien’s question was so quiet that she barely heard it.

“What’s going to happen to me?”​

Such a simple question begs a simple answer, yet of course… it wasn’t. Kass stared at Vivien so long without blinking that at last her eyes began to sting and water. Eventually she turned over to her back and looked up to the ceiling herself, her fists tight where they remained under the blankets. “Honestly I don’t remember much. She does these experiments, it’s sort of like hypnotherapy but she’s also got… these gloves. Usually, we’re drugged. And afterwards you just feel sorta empty, like a part of yourself has been removed. I honestly don’t know whether to think of the not-remembering as a blessing or a curse.”

Maybe she remembered more than she was truly letting on, but truth be told just finding the words to even sum up this much felt like a completely monumental task. “We really managed to piss her off this time, though. Who knows how long it’ll be before she checks on us again.” She cautioned a glance at Vivien from the corner of her eye. "You don't have to talk to me, you know. Our beds aren't bolted down to the floor so you can always move yours to the other side of the room if you want. Maybe not right now because the guys are sleeping, but you know. You can if you want. The girl before you, she just found it easier to feel a little less... alone."

 

[ShadyToad101]

"I honestly don’t know whether to think of the not-remembering as a blessing or a curse.”

Vivien swallowed, hard. And was silent for a long time. Hypnotherapy? With gloves? Was that when they swing a clock in front of your eyes and then tell you to meow like a cat? Vivien saw something like that on TV one time. That didn't sound so bad.. At least it wouldn't hurt. Although the thought did nothing to alleviate the pit in Vivien's stomach. A million questions spun in her mind. How long would she be here? Would they ever get to leave? Go outside? But those questions were too scary. Too real. She was not ready to face her reality. It was easier to just lie here in the dark and tell herself that everything was going to be okay. So Vivien stayed silent.

She scrubbed her sleeve across her face to wipe away her tears and pulled the covers up under her chin. The room was drafty and her blanket did very little to stop the chill. This place didn't make any sense. If the materializing door was any indicator of what was come, she was in for a... Interesting time. Fresh tears welled in her eyes and Vivien forced herself to think about something else. Kass's words were a welcome distraction.

“We really managed to piss her off this time, though. Who knows how long it’ll be before she checks on us again”

Vivien's lips flattened into a line and her voice cracked: "I'm sorry. That was such a stupid idea. I don't know what I was thinking." Who did she think she was? James Bond? Did she honestly think she was going to fight off the 6 ft tall mad scientist and escape? Now everything had to be worse. And it was all her fault.

"The girl before you, she just found it easier to feel a little less... alone."

Her heart dropped. She had forgotten about that, wasn't that why everyone was so angry before? Someone - another girl - was in this cell before her. Vivien looked around her cell. Even in the dark, she could tell that the room was pristine, no sign of previous human life. What happened to her? This.. Asa? Maybe she was let out? Deep in her heart, Vivien knew that wasn't true. Adrenaline washed down her spine and her heart began to steadily beat in her chest. The type of fear that only comes when one's life was in danger. Under the covers her hands began to shake, and in her panic she sought sweet relief from the only place she could find it.

"Wh- what's your name?" She turned back to look at Kass, this time with wide eyes. Vivien still hadn't decided if she was trustworthy, but that didn't matter now. She just needed to think.. About something else.

 

[heartstringss]

This girl was definitely young. Assuming that the doctor hadn’t revealed Vivien’s age in front of everyone, Kass felt she would’ve been able to guess it pretty easily. Twenty-two, yeah, she definitely acted like a twenty-two year old. It was always such a shame when a subject came in who was still incredibly young, almost like they weren’t just being temporarily held captive but rather their entire life spans stripped away. How were they supposed to recover from something this traumatic while they were still so… so young? ‘Kids are like rubber bands,’ some say. But at what point did a kid’s resiliency stop being like a rubber band and become hard wire instead? At what point did they stop being so pliable? What age did that occur? Asa hadn’t recovered, hadn’t even had the chance to want, and she’d been younger than both Vivien and Peyton combined.

Kass didn’t want to upset Vivien. Really, she didn’t. But in some way she knew she had to, that it was necessary because if it wasn’t her then it would surely be the doctor, and at least if it was her instead of Dr. Bergman, first, then Vivien would still have somewhere safe to turn to when the doctor inevitably turned around and hurt her worse. She had to make her upset if she was ever gonna become strong enough to survive this. The world simply didn’t need anymore dead kids.

“I'm sorry. That was such a stupid idea. I don't know what I was thinking."

“It wasn’t stupid,” Kass said sternly, her brow and lips both thinning to express the same. “It was brave. You took a stand against her. You fucking tried.” It was honorable, really. Not many people would’ve had the guts. “Trust me, we don’t get very many opportunities to stand up and fight back here. You took your one shot and you didn’t hesitate. She’s just bigger. A lot bigger than you, and a hell of a lot stronger and faster than she looks.”

If it’d been Kass, they would have all been free already. This entire lab would be a crime scene, the doctor either dead and buried somewhere no one would ever find the body, or behind bars. They all knew that. The doctor, too. It’s why she didn’t take any chances with Kass, why she kept her locked up much more securely and more cautiously than she did all of the others. Kass was a special case, after all. The only subject who was a retired veteran, who’d served active duty for eight years in a special division of the Air Force and the only one who’d grown up surrounded by the military all her life. Taking her was ballsy. It was a risk, a challenge. And it more than proved–along with the tech–any suspicion that there was the doctor might’ve had some pretty good friends in pretty high places.

Speaking about Asa was hard, but it was necessary. Kass wouldn’t let her slip away so easily; she’d make sure her memory lived on. But maybe right now wasn’t the best time to talk about Asa–after all, knowing what Asa might’ve done would only scare Vivien and put her at a greater risk herself. What if she was also suicidal and this drove her to an attempt? How many attempts had Kass already had to watch? Including her own, she simply couldn’t… handle anymore.

"Wh- what's your name?"

Kass had gone quiet, must’ve zoned out. Now she blinked and looked up, back through the glass at Vivien’s big scared eyes and quietly trembling mouth and her dark cloud of frazzled hair. Her heart whined sympathetically. She tried to smile but it almost hurt to do so, so the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m Kass,” she said simply. She didn’t push, wasn’t gonna beg for someone else to see her, trust her. They either would or wouldn’t; Kass couldn’t control that any more than she could control getting out of here herself. In any case, she could also tell exactly what Vivien was doing, that she was clearly distraction-seeking, desperate for anything to soothe her mind. “Do you wanna talk about the outside? Your life out there, I mean.” Kass didn’t want to, personally, but she would do it if it helped somebody else to cope. Self-sacrificing was, regrettably, just in her nature. “Or do you think that’d be too hard? It’s different for everyone. I mean, some people like to reminisce and talk about their lives outside, other people… just try to avoid it." Kass herself was one of the latter. "If you want to you can.”


. . .


Upstairs, the doctor sat at a chair and observed the two girls interacting from a series of night-vision cameras pulled up on a large computer monitor. She wore a pair of headphones over her ears, her right hand firmly grasped upon a pen but not taking any active notes--instead the tip just tap, tap, tapped away at the corner of a small blank notepad on the desk. Her face was blank, eyes studious and focused, brow pinched all the while she was contemplating whether she should interrupt the girls' interaction or simply allow it to go on. It reminded her of the early days when she had first brought Asa in--how quickly the young woman had turned cold upon the doctor and sought comfort from her other captives, becoming first attached to Kass and then gradually, with time, the others. Human connection was important, Dr. Bergman knew, hence why she had opted for the layout that she had. It was not her intent to make these people suffer, for she knew a human being (much like animals) could not survive in such confinement long before they would go mad. But even Kass had not been able to save Asa, and though the doctor herself had surely tried to help as well, the situation had been too complicated and in the end the girl's depression had made her suffering far unmanageable. (Never before had Dr. Bergman considered such an unpleasant thought, to think she could have probably saved Asa's life if only she had been willing to let her go...)

Would Vivien turn out to be a challenge anything like Asa? Though there wasn't much to suggest the girl had any history of suicidal ideation or prior self-harm, Dr. Bergman still worried that it might turn out she'd taken yet another subject far too fragile--or too broken--to be able to cope with how closely-guarded and thoroughly isolating the highly secretive nature and environment of this study was. She would have to iron out more kinks before she inevitably brought in Jakob... or any schizophrenics like him, of course. In the end, she chose to allow the two girls to continue interacting freely without deploying any further gas or other means of interruption.

As much of a trouble-maker as Kass was, Johanna surely couldn't deny she had her uses. Beyond having plentiful access to pharmaceuticals and a true wealth of knowledge how the brain and nervous systems worked, Dr. Bergman actually wasn't the slightest bit comfortable handling other people's nervous breakdowns. In fact, as much as she hated to admit it, that was much more Donna's area of expertise, and, well... also one of Kass's strengths. She would keep a close eye on the pair for now, she had decided. Jotting down a few notes, she sat and watched the pair another 20-30 minutes and then finally set down her headphones, triple-checked the camera's recorder was turned on, locked the computer down, and headed off to bed.

 

[ShadyToad101]

"It wasn't stupid. You took your one shot and you didn’t hesitate. [...] She’s just bigger. A lot bigger than you, and a hell of a lot stronger and faster than she looks."

Vivien's brow furrowed, a crease forming between her eyes. She wasn't sure what to do with this information. A familiar buzz of warmth settled in the bottom of her spine, the kind she always felt when she received a compliment. After years of being invisible, treated as though she didn’t exist, Vivien had developed a deep emotional reaction to any sort of positive attention. But now she was.. Unsure. With Kass's words she felt a twinge a doubt. Could it be a trick? A game? Part of the Doctor's experiments? Wasn't that how she ended up here in the first place? Even as she looked at Kass's sincere, kind eyes Vivien remembered her rage from hours before. The way her face twisted and her fists pounded against the glass. Would the day come when that rage would be directed at her instead of the Doctor? Just because she was away from the Kennedy's didn't mean that she was away from danger. She needed to keep her wits about her.

She wrapped her arms around her knees and curled up in the fetal position, still facing the glass. Despite her supposition, her voice notably relaxed.

"Yeah.. At first I was happy that she was a woman and not some man. But she's still scary." She admitted.

"Do you wanna talk about the outside? Your life out there, I mean."

Vivien hesitated for a long time. The pounding in her chest gradually slowed, but her hands were still shaking. The question made Vivien feel defensive. What was there to say? That she spent her life mopping floors and scrubbing toilets and deflecting stares from Mr. Kennedy? That she hadn't had a single year of formal schooling? That one day a SWAT team broke down her door and turned her entire life upside down? Vivien had nothing to offer. There wasn't a single interesting thing about her.

"Um.."

Despite her trepidation Vivien raked her brain to come up with something to say. She didn't want to lose this opportunity for interaction - for companionship. Even if Kass (what a cool name!) betrayed her, it was better than being alone with her thoughts.

"Do you have a favorite Disney character?"

The moment the words left her mouth, Vivien instantly regretted it. What a stupid, childish question! Grown adults don't watch Disney movies! She made herself look like a total idiot. Vivien swallowed and her gaze darted away from Kass.