Object 89

I can't breathe. Sights, sounds, smells enclosing all around me. I want to call for help. To scream it; yell at the top of my lungs. But I can't. I can barely suck in oxygen, let alone demand for a savior. I fall to the ground, landing on my knees hard. They'd be bruised at least, I know. A few more seconds and I'm laying down in a fetal position, my desperate gasps for air pathetic.

"That's it," a cold voice taunts in my ear. I want to look, but my brain is too overwhelmed to accomplish a task as simple as that. I only see fog; dense, white fog. I squeeze my eyes shut tight, refusing to endure this torture.

"She's a fighter, she is," another voice speaks, but doesn't sound proud. Superior was a good word. "But she won't last too much longer."

"Oh, shut it," the previous voice says, still hissing in my ear. I want it to go away, fade into nothing...

It's gone. Am I gone? I open my eyes to nothing. No fog, no white-walls, no anything. I'm completely surrounded by emptiness. I frantically search for the two speakers, but they are long gone. I am alone.

I find I can breathe easily again. I suck gulps of oxygen into my system as I take in my surroundings. I don't smell anything, nor do I hear, nor do I see. Well, I suppose I see, but there is nothing to look at. I stand, searching for an exit in this horrid place. There is nothing.

I step forward, feeling as if I didn't move at all. I walk further and further, but still nothing. I walk for what seems like hours. Was there time? I do not think so; I find no source of timetelling. On I walk, feeling nothing as I go on and on, forever and ever...


"She is smart, you know," the officer said as he gazed upon the flickering screen. It showed an image of a girl walking endlessly, aimlessly.

"Right, sir, and I'm Zeus," the underworker replied, not caring about his making cheek. The officer didn't care, either.

"Why else would she be chosen? She's smart, athletic, beautiful..."

"Sounds like you have a crush, sir." The officer laughed.

"Me? A crush on her? Please don't toy with me, child. That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever-"

Just then, the girl on the screen stopped moving. She sat down, drawing her knees to her chest. Her eyes closed; she placed her head in between her kness.

"What the hell is she doing?" the officer raged, striding to the monitor. "Get up, girl!" he yelled, as if she would hear him.

"Sir, I think she's resting," the underworker spoke timidly.

"Resting?! She doesn't need rest! She's immortal!"

"But she doesn't know that, sir..."

"She should feel it! It's a change that runs through her blood, fool! You have never felt the Change, as I have. You just know when it happens!"

The underworker didn't know how to reply, so he didn't. He turned back to the control panel, clicking keys absently. He knew the officer had high hopes for this one, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe this girl wasn't meant to be High...

"Sir, perhaps you would like to see Object 72? He's been doing very well..." The officer turned away from the screen.

"Sure, why not? I've had enough of Object 89 anyway," the officer replied huffily. The underworker tapped a quick command into the computer before the screen faded away from Object 89's new life.