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Rated: GC · Fiction · Dark · #2047285
A little insight into the history of Naya "NF" Furie, the Yellow-Eyed Beast.
PART 1 - Choices



Golden yellow eyes blinked as she stared up at the ceiling.

The perfectly white ceiling, void of features, stared right back.

“Tigress.”

She blinked again.

“Get up.”

A small body shifted, and blood leaking from the open wound on her stomach. There were no tears, but her abdomen was coated red. It was crimson life's blood flowing from a torn path on caramel skin. One hand rested over the opening as if trying to hold it closed.
It was to no avail.

“Get. Up.” The voice growled, a harsh edge to its previous calm.

She groaned and stirred, slowly turning to kneel, head low and blonde locks hanging in her grimacing face. Dirty, covered in blood and sweat; all manner of grime coated her face and legs. One foot made its way beneath her, then the other.

Somehow, she was on both of her feet.

The whole room was bright, a sterile harsh white color surrounding everything. In front of her was a man, taller than she was by far; towering over by more than half her height. Behind him was a door, no handle, only a small scanner for an adult hand.

Head tipping back, the child looked up at him with the one yellow eye not covered by dirty blonde hair. Her lips parted, mouth opened, and no sound came out. That was, not until his hand lashed out sharply across her cheek. The mark faded almost as quickly as it appeared.

“I shouldn't have to tell you more than once.”

The young Tigress nodded. The eyes moved away, back to the ground, but a hand was there on her chin lifting her face.

“No no, child. Look here. Do you know what we're testing today?”

No. She didn't. Her head shook, but the man in front of her didn't seem to care what her answer was. He pointed to her left eye even though it was covered by hair.

“We're testing your vision. Did you know that if one eye is lost, the other improves to compensate? Especially in your case. We'll have to stunt the regeneration of the other for a while to get maximum effect.”

The young Tigress's yellow eyes grew larger, breath welling up in her chest.

“Are you scared?”

A shake of the head.

“That's good. After all, we both know the eye will grow back.” The man smiled. His face was a shroud of fear and avoidance, no yellow-eyes could stick to it and form a fully outlined memory.

There were glasses, black hair, and that smile

Tigress shivered, swallowing, and biting the inside of her lip.

The man lifted a scalpel toward her left eye, metal brushing the dirty hair aside.

Next, it brushed across her long eyelashes causing them to flutter.

Their breath was touching.

The smiling man used his other hand to put a finger to his lips.

Shhhh...

…......................................................................

It wasn't easy adjusting to one eye. The loss of depth perception was certainly something else. She bumped into things, tripped, and often stumbled. At first. Soon, she began to pick up the details subconsciously, adapt, an adjust.

By soon, that meant within a few hours.

The scar over her left had healed up, but the steel wool they'd put in the wound surrounded by gauze and some....slimy stuff; it kept it from healing up internally. Kept it open. Kept it painful.

She sat down in the park-looking area where the trees grew, green grass, and an artificial sun. She was in the middle of it, all of it, just absorbing the tranquility and the solitude.

It was fake, mostly. Well, in truth the greens and vegetation were real enough. All truly living material. It was everything else.

The blue sky.

The shining sun.

The big fluffy clouds.

It was a box covered in pictures. A glorified cage. It was also her happy place, and she loved it.

She loved being alone.

That was until a younger man showed up, brown hair and a toned physique under his lab coat.

He was handsome and had a cheerful smile on his face. A feature so few in her life carried.

He also came bearing ice cream.

Ice cream.

“I come in peace,” he said holding out the cone topped with vanilla cream. Tigress didn't smile, but she did look up at him fondly. He liked that look, shown by the spread of a smile on his own face.

A tan hand reached for the cone gingerly before he pushed it into her fingers. Tigress pulled it to her and sniffed it a couple of times. “Good girl,” said the man, “always check.”

That got a smile, and he moved to sit next to her. “How's your eye, Beautiful?”

“It's gone.” She rubbed the spot lightly and winced a little, “He took it out. Dennison did.”

“Yeah, I know.” The man frowned and pointed at her ice cream. Tigress looked at it, sniffing it once more before several licks removed nearly the entire side of the scoop of soft serve. “This is, what; day fifty?”

“This is all I've had in two months.”

“Right. How did you feel?”

“Hungry.”
“No weakness, pains, shaking?”

“No, but...it makes it hard to focus. Hard to block out pain. I can't function as well.”

“Oh right, you don't know what weakness feels like. It's...when you try to do things that take effort, does it feel like you have to try harder?”

“Yes.”

“What about dizziness?”

“Yes.”

“Did you ever faint?”

“No. Dennison says I'm incapable of being rendered unconscious.”

“That's not true. It's just very difficult. You still have to be careful. How do you feel growth wise?”

“I grew an inch since yesterday.” She downed the rest of the creamy treat on top and began to push her tongue down inside the cone. “Mr. Toma?”

“Yes, what is it?”

“I like when you call me Beautiful instead of Tigress. What does it mean?”

Mr. Toma tilted his head a little and chuckled patting her shoulder once,

“Well first off I like when you call me Toma, instead of Mr. Toma.”

“Okay.”

“As for what beautiful means: It means attractive or desirable, and not in just a physical way. It CAN mean that something is very very pretty like yourself, or otherwise endearing or cherished. Like yourself.”

“I don't think those things describe me, though.”

“Well I do, and beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

“That sounds selfish.”

Toma laughed again and ruffled Tigress's hair, “How come they call me Tigress anyway?”

“Well because you were born with stripes, and had orange eyes.”

Her eye widened, “I was born with stripes?!” Excitement in that little voice. Toma chuckled,

“Sort of. You had a full head of hair once development was complete and there were these odd black streaks in it. The name just stuck.”

“It has nothing to do with being a big, fast, powerful, apex predator?”

“Not yet.”

“But it will?”

Toma sighed and looked away for a bit, “Maybe. Depends. Is that what you want, Beautiful?”

“I don't really think I have a choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

Yellow eyes moved up to Toma as her her mouth was busy chewing on the waffle cone. “Hm?”

“Yeah, you always have a choice. Heck, we both know you could kill me right now and make a break for it.”

Tigress frowned, “I wouldn't kill you, Toma.” She shook her head. Toma smiled at her and turned a little to face her more,

“I know you wouldn't sweetie. I'm just letting you know, you can choose to do so. Do you understand? I can't stop you from making decisions, neither can Dannison. We can offer incentives for certain choices and consequences for others, but we can't force your hand when it comes to what you decide.”

Tigress thought on that for several seconds quietly. Toma eventually stood up and leaned down to kiss her on her dirty forehead before turning to leave, but a small hand reached up and tugged at the tail of his lab coat. “I don't want to be a predator.”

Toma looked back at her. She smiled and held up the last bit of the waffle cone, “I want to make stuff like this. Ice cream, and these tasty cones. And I want to be able to make that stuff you let me try with the rice and it was spicy...”

“Curry?”

“Yes! And steak! I want to make stuff like that.”

Toma grinned, “You want to cook do you? That's admirable.”

“It is?” Her head tilted.

“Of course. People will always be hungry. Even when they're nigh immortal monuments to self-sustaining imperviousness apparently.” Tigress blushed a little knowing he was talking about her. Toma leaned down and put his hands on his shoulders. “It's good you told me. I'm the only one here whose job it is to actually look out for you, Beautiful. When you feel like this about things...you have to tell me. Okay?”

“No I don't,” Tigress said with a big smile and shaking her head hard enough to whip her dirty blonde locks about her face. Toma frowned a little, “I choose to.”

That brought his smile back. “That a girl.”
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