[IC] The Soap Factory

[Solekii]

Marcus

"Get up," comes a voice from outside my cage.

"No thanks," I murmur back, trying to look relaxed laying back on the floor but internally resisting the order with everything I've got.

I glance up just in time to catch an intimidating-looking guard with rough features and an unshaven face glare down at me. His eyes were hard as stone. Just once I wish they'd send a guy who didn't look like he'd just had a fight with his wife and wants to take his problems out on me for his having to spend the night on the couch. What a grouch.

I also have to wonder why I even know what a couch is. Or a wife, for that matter. Must be stuff they 'programmed' in me. Or stuff I knew before I got here. My earliest memory is waking up in a box, then everything else is just tests and orders and cold steel floors. This place is so sterile and unimaginative. At least they let me have clothes--They almost didn't when I first arrived, but some of the guards didn't like the way my bad leg looked. Seriously, the leg was the problem so they gave me some pants. Then later a shirt when the heat broke that one time--something I refuse to give up. I always have to wonder why they never fixed my leg properly. We have the ability to genetically splice people with whatever the hell they want, why can't they clone me a new leg or something? Or build one if I'm the android they think I am. Maybe they don't think it's worth their time.

The guard is still glaring at me. Why isn't he saying anything? Is he waiting? Seeing how long I can resist? I try to remain looking as relaxed and laid back as possible--but I'm getting agitated. Damn it, he's going to win, isn't he?

I can't take it anymore. That nagging, stressful feeling is back. It happens whenever I try and resist an order, especially such a direct one. I try to hold back, but I'm already starting to stand. Wonderful.

"Still some resistance..." the guard mutters, seeming annoyed.

I narrow my eyes at him. "You're damn right I'm re--"

"Shut up!" he cries, slapping me across the face. Immediately I stop. I try to speak again but the order was too strong this time. I have to take it. "Alright," the guard continues. "stand perfectly still. Do not flinch."

Always a good sign when they say 'do not flinch'. I brace myself, but am forced to do as he says. He raises a fist. I see it coming, I know what he's going to do but the second he hits me, I can't even stumble back. I can feel it too. Right in the nose... hurts like hell, but they never believe me when I say so. They assume I'm lying to seem more 'human'. But I'm not. It actually freaking hurts.

The guard nods. "Good. Much better." He seems satisfied. These guys always come by when they have free time. They don't really care if I react or not, they just like to come by when they feel like hitting something. He started to turn away, then quickly whirled around, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me down, forcing me to double over as he knees me in the stomach. I want to at least gasp or something, but I can't react. He ordered me not to.

"That's for resisting the first time," he snapped, then let me go. "The order is complete. Resume as you were."

He quickly heads out of my cage and locks the door behind him. I immediately sink to my knees. Damn it that hurt. According to them I shouldn't need to breathe either--but I do anyway and that really knocked the wind out of me. At least he didn't go for my groin. For the record, whether I am an android or not, that still hurts, and yes I'm anatomically correct.

When I've caught my breath again, I look around the room at the other cages. So many of us 'experiments' in here... so many sapient beings treated like defective machinery and dangerous 'pets' nobody wants anymore. It makes me sick.

And that's why I'm getting out of here. When the guards come back tomorrow, chaos will be there to greet them. I can hardly wait.

---

Neil

They're tormenting the android again. They seem to love doing that. They give him orders and he obeys, it's the easiest thing in the world to take advantage of. I've seen him coming back from 'tests' before looking perfectly stiff and obedient and unharmed--and then the second they tell him to relax, he collapses. I have to wonder what they do to him there, and how hard they think they can push him--and what his limit is.

And then I wonder if it matters. It isn't as though we could simply get out of here. Even if we got out of the cages, there's still the guards to worry about, and the fact that I am fairly certain we are on a space station of some kind. So how do we get off? Where do we go? There are simply too many factors to consider.

And even if we did steal a ship... what planet would welcome things like us? And how would we hide the bright orange collars with our numbers printed on them? I've tried everything to get mine off but the material just won't budge.

Sighing, I lay back down. Doesn't look like they plan on feeding me today--which I've begun to understand is how they're keeping me in this form. It takes a hell of a lot of energy to maintain human form and half starved as I am, I can't even manage a hand right now. Currently, I'm trapped in an animal state--a cheetah to be exact. And an albino one, as if I didn't stand out enough as it is. My mind is perfectly human, and I would love to keep it this way--however, the guards seem to think that's stupid, and they're constantly trying to 'train' me. Of course, you can bet they're using negative reinforcement. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of running on that stupid treadmill. I'm sick of being shocked, sick of being tested on, sick of the numerous unknown shots they keep giving me. I just want to rest, but I can't even do that properly as every time I try to sleep, I'm woken up half-way through the night by partially realized nightmares I can never remember in the... 'morning', or whatever it is that passes for morning here. I don't know. It's always dark in the cages. Always. I suppose that's fine, though. As an albino, my eyes are sensitive to light anyway. Still, just once I wish I knew what time it was. Even if time is an abstract concept in space.... I'd like to know what time it is somewhere on Earth--pick a place, I don't care. Just stick to it.

Well, whatever. It doesn't matter in the long run, as I'm going to be trapped here for the foreseeable future. I wish I could at least communicate with someone. Anyone would do. Even that crazy android in the cage next to mine. I don't know why he continues to try resistance in such a hopeless situation. I'd like to ask him... if I had a tongue that could do anything other than lap up water.... and higher developed vocal chords. I really hate this animal state. Okay, sure, I run fast. Big whoop. Humans can speak and sing and write and draw and play instruments. What good is a sapient mind if your body won't allow you to make full use of it?

I decide I might as well try sleeping again. What else is there to do? Maybe this time I'll remember the nightmares....

[AkiBlue]

Tap. Tap. Tap.

My stitching needle tapped against the edge of the bed, or pallet, or whatever the uncomfortable bedding was. It was something I did until one of the guards growled for me to stop...which didn't happen today because one was too busy tormenting the poor android in the cage on my side... Again. I wonder why they're so cruel sometimes, but I doubt I'll get a good answer for that. Once again I'm stuck in my little display cage for all of them to poke and prod at me. This hellish life is unbearable, but it's all that I have. No matter what I think, no matter how much I convince myself, I know I'm stuck here in this hell hole. And by how long I've been here and the weird clothes occasionally, it's guaranteed we were in space. So there is no possible way to leave anyway. And to think, that is only half of the matter.
The real issue is the scattered stitches going over my entire body. That really flaws an appearance...

Not including the palish gray skin, or the fact that the doctors tried to he funny and give me an outfit that matched my appearance... It's really difficult to explain who or what I am because, well... I don't remember or know any of it. But some guards and doctors adopted the name 'Doll' for me. It suits the- everything about me really. Stitched body, pale skin, weird dress- and don't forget some of the cotton stuffed into my body. What the hell am I? It's something I think about constantly. It wasn't fair that most of them had a definite idea of what they could be and maybe even their purpose- but I think I was just some experiment for them to toy with. I sort of think of it as I was one of those toys that children thought would be interesting- but realizing otherwise, they just threw me off to the side.

Realizing I was rambling in thoughts, I decided to just lean back against the wall, sitting on this uncomfortable bedding. Occasionally, I glance over through the cages to look at all the other castaways or things thrown off to the side. They looked perfectly fine in my eyes... But what would I know? I'm a castaway just like them.

Nothing is getting better any time fast. It's a routine around here that has never been broken. And here I find myself wondering how I could get away from here or even how to have a normal life in this condition. Ha. Yeah right. Those were merely dreams and fantasies I knew I couldn't obtain. A normal life... What was my life like before? Well, it didn't really matter because I couldn't go back anyway. "I wonder how long it's been since we've been here." Being cooped up for so long, it's kind if hard not to speak out every now and then. Most of the time I never expect anyone to speak back, and I am perfectly fine with that.

What could a group of broken experiments possibly talk about?

[FrozenEcstasy]

Chains. Locks. How much longer will chains and locks be here? I can strain and strain all day, but always chains and locks. Chains and locks, chains and locks, chains and locks. Damn chains and locks. I, Beast, hate chains and locks. I hate them, hate them, hate them. Every day since Beast decide not to kill the fuzzy, Beast only know chains and locks. Cages. Hatred.

Beast loves fuzzies, but nobody loves beast. It’s bad, very bad. All beast wants to do is hold fuzzy and feel important. No killing. Beast hate killing, Beast hate pain. Those who kill and cause pain, Beast kills. Beast protects fuzzies all over that way. But Beast can’t protect with chains and locks.

Looking down Beast can see the chains and locks on his wrists and elbows. Beast can’t move all that much. Beast has strained before against chains and locks, but Beast couldn’t break them. Beast can almost always break them, but not these. Beast moves arm and chain tightens and keeps beast from moving forward. Beast chained to floor like animal, made eat like animal. Beast no like, but Beast deal. One day Beast will escape, Beast is sure of that.

Beast moans and roars and thrashes every night in case that night Beast breaks chains and locks. Beast sounds scary, Beast looks scary. Beast spit everywhere, slimy green everywhere. Beast tried biting locks, but no work. Beast tried biting chains, no work. Beast looks outside of cell towards where Fuzzy lives. But barred window for Beast is small, and Beast’s cell dark. Nobody can see Beast, but Beast can see body. Beast is seen when guards come in and poke with stick for fun, though. Beast no like, but Beast deals.

Beast hears robo-man being hurt. Beast doesn’t like, Beast whines to himself. Strains against chains and locks, but no Break.

Always Chains and Locks… Always chains and locks.

[Hansa]

I sit by a table with obscene amounts of food on. Grilled chicken, fried shrimp, couscous, foie gras. It is indeed a splendid feast, but I cannot smell anything. I cannot taste anything. I cannot feel anything. Around the table are familiar faces, but I do not know their names. One hooded figure stands out though, he seems eerie. As not to seem too abnormal, I’m just a regular ol’ tree man after all, I eat and drink like a regular human being. The hooded figure laughs at me, a sort of deathly chuckle. He reveals his head, which is a skull surrounded in a dark shroud. He speaks ugly words to me, so ugly I throw up, and as he speaks flesh grows onto his bones. Dark, curly hair, brown eyes, an evil grin – soon the face became all too familiar. I shout obscenities at him, a mix of sap and puke dripping out of my mouth.

“Silvio!”

I have awoken from this horrid nightmare, the last shout echoing in the storage, my voice a gust through the many cages. Too often I awake from my shifting sleep abruptly, but this is the first time I actually shout something. The guards will not be happy. I am standing up – after the transformation this is how I sleep. It is fitting, seeing as I am now a tree. It’s bothersome to lie down with all the branches on my back anyway. I turn my head, my neck crackling; I try to move my knees, which have become quite stiff. As I shuffle in my cage, I hear steps. The guards…

“HV001, we do not appreciate such outbursts” a guard says, three of them gathering in front of my cage. I have noticed that, although they approach most other cages alone, they are always more when they approach me. As if I am more of a danger. This is something I don’t understand, I am after all only a wooden man.

I am tempted to answer the guard, but I know better. Whatever I say, they will use it against me. As some excuse to get the torches out and burn me. I mean that literally. “Come on, you wooden bastard” the guard said, “we know you can talk”. I know they won’t enter my cage. They never do. “Give us a hand here” another guard said, and they laughed. I look down at my right shoulder, the butt of their joke. There is no arm there.

I look up again, keeping my silence. I’m obviously boring them. They sigh, look at each other, and split. I am relieved that I have once more avoided the guards’ punishment. I try to sleep again, there is not a lot more to do in this cage. And as I close my eyes, I hear one of the guards blowing off some steam. It’s the boy who follows orders. The one who always gets beat up. Why must he always be the one to be hurt? As I try to sleep, and hear the blows dealt to the prisoner boy, a droplet of sap runs down my cheek. Guilt consumes me.

[Ace of Jacks]

“Wake up,” orders a voice.

Is it time already? They can never give me just one day to myself. Every day it’s the same routine: Wake up, play their games, return to my cage, eat, sleep, and repeat. Every morning a guard drags me out from the comfort of my poor excuse of a cell and takes me to what seems like a testing room; a large room with a high ceiling and barely anything in it. The only things that occupy the space is a reclining examination bed, odd machines attached to this and that, and a single poster of a white kitten hanging from an extended tree branch with the words ‘Hang in there!’ spewed across the top. Lightens the mood.

“I won’t repeat myself. Get your freak ass up!”

With my back turned toward the voice, I curl my body, holding my knees up against my chest with my arms. The coolness of my tail as it brushes up against my legs brings chills down my spine. Sometimes I forget it’s there…. For 3 months I’ve been subjected to their sick test and games, making little to no progress according to the scientist. I don’t see a point in all this repetitive nonsense. They say I’m a “catalyst of untapped mental ability” and that it is necessary to observe and record my progress, albeit slow. They believe my creators were wrong to toss my away to this godforsaken place but I can understand why they did. I’m useless. I was meant to be the commander of a new breed of psychic super soldiers yet I can barely guess what anyone’s thinking. 3 months in this place and the closest thing to ‘psychic’ about me are the whispers in the air. They’re always there, always speaking, whether or not to me is unclear. Hell, on a good day I can make out just one word.

A sharp pain strikes just below my shoulder blade. My body shoots up, spinning to face the bars of the cage door. The guard on the other side retracts a rod between two bars and flings the door open. I crawl out like the animal they think I am and am jerked upwards with quick force. Around me I see the similar cube dwellings of the facilities residents. There are so many of us, rejects and failures. I watch as another victim emerges out of his cage. It's him, the android. I see him a lot these days, from a distance of course. My eyes glance away, unable to bear the sight of his torture. I pity him. I pity us all. Sometimes one of them gets taken away and when they return they have this sunken look about them, as if their souls were ripped out of their very being. As I’m lead away I realize I’m one of them; a victim of this soul-stealing facility. I can feel my tail slowly curl up between my legs as we near our destination. The things they subject me to, the sick mind games they force me to play in the name of science, and it’s a nightmare. I am living in a perpetual nightmare, a fate more cruel than death, on an endless loop.

The guard leads me to my futile throne and I take my place with great hesitation. Leaning my head back against the seat I can see the grim silhouettes of scientist behind the 3-inch thick window looking down at me from the safety of their observation room. As I lay there, the whispers swarm around me. This time, I can hear them clearly. For the first time, they are speaking in unison. One sentence: Break the loop. My eyes trail down to the kitten on the tree and I look back at my onlookers. The corner of my lip curls up.
One day, I’ll be the one watching them “hangin’ there”.