NaNoWriMo Day 26

Short one today, so very close to the end...

Word Count: 42,327

Molly

The three brutes advance on me, slowly. They each outweigh me by at least 100 pounds, and one of them is an absolute hulk. He is the closest, his eyes tell me that he has been waiting for something like this for a long, long time. I stand there calmly, letting the big one get closer. When he is within arm’s reach I strike. Like a whirlwind I drop to my knees and lash out with my left hand. I grab the fabric of his crotch and squeeze until I feel meat, then I pull as hard as I can. There is a terrible wet tearing sound, topped by an even more terrible scream. His fatigues look like he pissed himself in blood and he falls to the floor half wheezing and half crying. This shocking act of brutality makes the other two pause and reconsider their plans of attack. They both charge me at once with arms outstretched. I easily roll under their grasp and donkey kick one of the men in the back of the knee. Something snaps and he crumples to the floor with a sharp cry. The one left standing tries to stomp on me and I catch his boot. I roll sideways with his leg still in hand and it pops out of his hip joint violently. He goes down screaming and I stand and kick him hard under the chin. Teeth fly and he is out of the fight. The guard with the shattered knee tries feebly to stand, telling me to stay away from him. I slap him across the face, leaving a big red hand print on his cheek. He looks up at me in utter terror and begs for his life. I glance as Brandt who looks pleased as punch with the demonstration. The fucker looks so smug that it makes me want to smash his face in. I try for the element of surprise and charge him, but my arm jerks up and grabs my throat, clamping hard. I sink to my knees, struggling to breathe, and the room starts going swimmy. Brandt stands over me and reminds me that they are in complete control. I nod weakly, and my arm lets up. I cough and gasp while Brandt orders more guards to cart these sad sacks off to the infirmary.

Grabbing me by the collar, Brandt tells me that if I continue to misbehave they will be forced to lobotomize me, turning me into a drooling emotionless killing machine. I certainly do not like the sound of that. He asks sternly if I can be trusted from now on. I pause, staring hard into his eyes, and finally acquiesce. I will follow orders, I promise. He nods, satisfied. He tells me to get some rest, there will be one more test before I am ready to leave. It sounds like it is going to be a doozy.

Joseph

I can’t move, but it’s just as well because I can’t make my eyes open either. Voices come and go around me, snatches of conversations that I can’t understand. At one point, two of them are arguing. One voice says something about being too soon, and the other replies that they are too far behind schedule and will have to risk moving forward now. He says that the success of subject alpha proves that they have perfected the technique. Before I drift back out of consciousness, the second voice says something about finding the whore, that she will be an excellent test. I slip away and dream for a while, strange visions of masked figures huddling over me and sticking metal things in my face. There is a distinct feeling of loss of self, as if they are drilling right into my brain and yanking out everything that makes me who I am. A most unpleasant feeling, indeed.