"Our plans are turning, left, right, left. The subjects, they're getting unexplainable abilities, our experiments are a huge success, sir." Sitting at a small wooden table and staring at a laptop screen is a small bald man. This man wears glasses and a lab coat, and has a small strip of grey hair going around his head. "We've already had a few successful subjects, but they haven't lasted long, they underwent severe changes. However, they didn't lose their humanity and intelligence, they ran, and this island it's so," Father taps the table a few times looking for the words to say. "Well, there are a lot of places to hide here, and every guard and soldier I sent out has died."
A voice comes out of the speaker crackling slightly, but then mellowing out. "Father, we need this next group to be a success, we are sinking millions of dollars into your fancies, and we are fighting a war over here, if those soldiers aren't ready in a few months, we are pulling the plug and that island, that island will become our next bomb testing ground, do I make myself clear?"
"Yes sir, but a year, just give me a year." Father pleaded, he knew this time that things would work, he knew it.
"One year, that is it." The skype call ended with the iconic pinging sound.
Father sighed, he wrested his elbows on the table and started rubbing his forehead. "Please, just let them work, please."
Luke Kyle woke up with a start. "Arrgh, what a night." He of course dreamt about fighting with pirate type weapons. "And did I always have an obsession with pirates?" He looked at his cell. "shiver me timbers, I'm locked in!" Luke shot to his feet and charged the door, ending out with nothing but a sore shoulder. "Well, I can just wait then."
He scanned the room, it was large and open with tables in the middle, and doors and cells in an L-shape. "Hello, anyone there?"
Cole woke with a start from a nightmare he didn't remember, drenched in a cold sweat. He spent a few moments trying to remember what the dream had been about.
And then, almost ironically, Cole realized he could remember almost nothing at all, and began to panic.
He lurched to his feet from the bed that was most definitely not his own, although he couldn't remember quite what his bed had been like, and took a look around the room that he was in. White concrete walls. A nightstand, but with nothing on it. A door that, after a desperate tug, proved to be locked, just as he'd feared.
"All right, think, think. The nightstand." With some difficulty, Cole heaved the nightstand off the floor and slammed it into the door, then examined the door for any sign it had been damaged. "Not even a frigging dent," he muttered.
In desperation, he charged the door with his shoulder, somewhat hesitantly so as to avoid hurting himself. As he slammed into the door, however, he heard a very distinctly metallic 'ping'. Assuming it was the door itself, maybe made of some fancy kind of metal, he peered out of his cell - funny, how he had immediately assumed he was in a prison when he couldn't even remember his own name - and saw a plain room with tables outside, along with more cells on the walls.
Wait, maybe that was it. Maybe he was in prison! Maybe he had done something bad and they'd (Who 'they' were, he wasn't sure) erased his memories and left him to rot in this cell. That seemed kind of cruel, but it was better than a whole lot of the alternatives his panicked mind was coming up with.
Cole latched on to that answer and, with the calm of someone about to launch into hysterics, sat down on the bed. What about food? Water? Someone would come around eventually to bring them, and he could ask them what was going on and why he was here. Yeah. That would work.
For now, though, he waited, staring out the door at the other cells.
((An important note: Italics are my characters' thoughts. The ones that are also in bold are the ones that everyone can hear.))
Anyone where? This thought echoed out, invading the minds of those in the cells. Not all of them recognized it as a foreign thought, and those that did wouldn't understand the source.
A young man got up in one of the cells, he was wearing a rumpled gray shirt( Shouldn't have slept in this...) and jeans. His feet were socked, and there was a pair of boots on the ground, which he immediately bent down to put on. It was an instinctual motion, but he realized afterwards that he couldn't remember where he had bought them. Or ever wearing them. Or anything else.
He looked out the bars. "Hello?" There was someone in the cell across from him, but they were still asleep in bed. "Hey, where am I? I think I've had an accident or something..." He started feeling his head, trying to find an injury.
Hannibal fumbled out of his bed, bumping into the concrete wall. It took a moment but he finally gained his composure. Boy, he wished he never had: he had no memories of his life whatsoever; not even his own name came to mind. Then, something a little freaky happened: it felt as if he had extra limbs on the top of his back. He was moving something, he just didn't know what until he turned his head. Behind him were a large pair of black, crow-like wings.
"Oh good lord...!" He just stood there motionless. What sick person would do this? What sick person could do this!? He started flapping them, but all they could do was bang against the wall, showing how small the room was. Then he heard thoughts of another. Thinking they were his own, he shouted out, "Is there anyone there!? Anyone!?" He tried to rock the bars but they wouldn't budge. He finally settled down and sat on his bed, guessing this was just some kind of birdcage nightmare that would all be over soon. Yet, it seemed so real. Thinking of the home he didn't even know of, a tear ran down his face.
It was strange: the only thing he recognized was the smell of this horrid place.
With an shock, Edward awoke from his sleep, finding himself upright sitting in a room. "What a weird dream...." he mumbled to himself, running a hand through his hair. He looks around the room, which looked very familiar. Where have I seen this before? Oh, right... I... I was in this room in my room. At least I thought it was me... I was a Gerbil and some guy threw me in a room, which looked very close to this one.... A chill runs down his spine.Then he realises that there is a stack of cloth in front of him and that he was being naked. Uhhh..... Without hesitation he put on the cloths. He heard some noises, a couple people talking, from which one of them sounded like it came out of his head. What is this place?! A fog of paranoia started to creep into his mind. Maybe that dream was true.... Maybe he was a Gerbil.... Is that possible?
Edward stands up from his bed and walks towards the door. He grabs the bars with both hands and closes his eyes. Then he searches his mind, blowing away the thoughts of fear and paranoia in the search of something, something which seems to be there, right in front of him. Almost instinctively, his body started to shape shift. His spine began to deform, his legs and arms to shrink, and his mouth to expand. Before he knew it he was suddenly sitting on the ledge between the bars. Edward was trying to say something, but he only could hear himself squeak. Did it work? I am seriously a gerbil?.... He turned in a circle around himself. This is awesome!
Without thinking he leaps down from the edge towards the room outside the cell, before realizing, that this fall can kill him. In a panic he tries to transform back. To his luck, he managed to do so, but far less graceful then he indended, and so Edward belly flops the ground outside his door and blacks out.... Naked...
Skyler's eyes blinked open slowly. He sat up, rubbing his eyes lethargically, when he noticed they were... wet. He was confused.
"I was... crying?" he asked himself, muttering. He didn't know why he would do such a thing, and with a sudden, terrifying clarity, he realized he didn't know where he was. He wracked his mind for more information, but he found it alarmingly empty. He didn't remember how he got here, and anything else about him. Not even his name. He was no short of panicking, but he found himself calmer than ever, which meant the last five minutes he'd been here. He stood up, looking around the room. The floor, walls and ceiling were a dull white, the kind of white you'd see on linoleum floors, but more... crisp. There was a bed and a nightstand, the former of which he had just risen from. On one side of the room was a door with a small opening, albeit covered by bars.
Skyler approached the bars with a certain hesitancy, looking out them. There seemed to be another room, but with the door not budging, he had not chance to get there. He grasped a bar with one hand, and stared out the view port. Suddenly, he felt the metal under his hand ripple slightly, and a strange... sensation course through his arm. It was odd, he couldn't quite put a finger on what it felt like. He removed his hand, and jumped back as several drops of quicksilver dripping down from the bar he was holding on to the floor. Staring incredulously at the silvery substance on the ground, his gaze snapped back to the bar he had been grasping moments before. A small, grape-sized chunk had been taken out of the bar, leaving it incomplete, as if it had been partially cut off.
His eyes widened as he realized what he just did, and what he was possibly capable of doing Many strategies and plans formed in his head of how he could break out of this place, but he thought it better to wait. Walking slowly back to his bed, he sat down, staring at the puddle of mercury still on the floor. Out of nowhere, he wondered if anyone was even here, besides himself. But he remained silent, despite this spontaneous query.
He wasn't one to talk much.
The young woman rolled off her bed landing smack on the floor. A cry of pain soon followed, echoing through the cell Keisha was trapped in. "Holy shit. Where the fuck am I?" Bewildered and now with a throbbing head ache, brown eyes scanned her surroundings. The last time she'd woken up in a concrete cell she'd been blackout drunk on a street corner. At least that one looked a little less severe. With a groan, she lifted herself up, rubbing the lump on her forehead. The concrete floor sent waves of cold through the paper thin socks she'd been dressed in. Wait. These weren't her socks! These pants weren't either! Hands groped all over her body, searching for a single scrap of clothing to call her own. When none was found Keisha flipped a lid.
Bang, bang, bang! "Hey! Open this god damned door! Where the fuck am I? Who took my damn clothes?!" There were no bars on her window. Only a thick glass panel. She turned around and looked for something to pry it open. The best she could do was whip the boots that had been set by her bed at the glass. They bounced off, tauntingly. She was just about to break a bar off the bed frame when a thought crossed mind.
'Shouldn't have slept in this...'
She narrowed her eyes in confusion. That wasn't her voice. What was going on here? She forced herself to take a deep breath and remember... But nothing came... It was all she could do not to rip her own skin off in anger and fear. For now, an ear splitting scream would suffice.
"My sails, there's a lot of people on here, at least I'm not alone." Luke wiped his hands on his shirt and started pulling at the bars. "Let me out or you'll be walking the plank, swabbin' the deck, I'll keel-haul ye and leave you to the sharks! What am I saying?!" Then he started thinking two thoughts at the same time, he didn't realize it was someone else's thoughts, then a kid fell on the ground naked. "Ew." Then some man broke a bar, and a girl started cursing like a sailor. "This is a lovely group, can I go home now? Or sail, for some reason I really want to sail."
Suddenly an odd sound came over the room, the sounds of pistons moving, and all the cells just opened. They didn't seem to hesitate what so ever, just opened. Luke, of course, took this chance to jump out and scour for an exit, but there was only one to be found. He began walking towards it and the door opened, four guards poured in. Following them was a small stature bald man. "Greetings, one and all. I am your Father, that's what you may call me, and I thought I would check up on my lovely children, now, believe me, I know you're probably all confused, and I won't frighten you with fluffiness my children. You have super powers, some of you have figured that out. Some have not." Father motioned to the man with wings. "Look at this gentleman, he's got wings." Father chuckled a bit and smiled. "You see, I created you, I gave you these powers, and, you have them for a reason. But, before that, I would like to get to know my children. If you would one at a time come sit at this table with me, then we can begin." Father walked to a nearby table and sat in one of the chairs, it was a round table, with folding chairs.
Luke sighed. "Bilgerat." He muttered quietly. He decided to go first and hurried to sit across from him.
"Ahh, hello Luke." The man smiled warmly, it made Luke feel rather safe. "Go ahead, talk."
"Well," Luke began. "For one thing, I don't know where I'm at, I can't see stars, I be talking weird, and I don't feel proper, mat-" He shut himself up, he leaned in a bit. "And, I'm scared."
The man smiled and grabbed Luke's hand. "Look around you, I guarantee they all are, and it's natural, no hero was never scared, do you think police aren't scared when they have to take down an armed man? You might not get that reference. Without fear, Luke, you have no drive, use that, feel what other people feel with this. BUt, you're safe in this facility, I can't guarantee you'll be safe away, but I'll protect you with everything while you're here."
Luke nodded. "Thank ye Father." He got up and walked to the door and began conversing with a guard.
Father leaned back and smiled, he didn't seem threatening or scary in any means now to Luke.
Solomon walked up to their "father" next, cutting off one of the other prisoners.
"I'm a mite confused, is all. You're our daddy, but you lock us up like animals? I just wanna know how I came to be here. It ain't right that we can't remember a damn thing."
And here I thought I had an accident. This wasn't no accident.
Father nodded, to show he was listening. "You're not technically locked up, I mean, we are going to keep these cells up, but you see, this island's not safe, plus you guys are so powerful our guards are scared of you, this is more ore less for them to feel safer than you. The memory was a side effect of me making you better, and I'm sorry you have no memories, Do you want me to get your file, I can tell you exactly who you are."