The Chosen Ones: Chapter 3

Upon entering the lab, Cahal and I were separated once again, but before they took him away from me, I looked into his gray eyes one more time.

“We’ll get through this Cahal,” I say in an attempt to comfort him despite him being two years older than me. The two of us are dragged into separate testing rooms. After entering the room, I’m pinned to the cold bed as nurses and doctors attempt to place restraints on my wrists, ankles, and across my body. Even though I’ve done this a dozen times, I still scream and fight the constraints.

As one of the nurses starts to put a limitation across my chest, I lift my head and sink my teeth into her arm. Two other nurses come on either side of me and pry my mouth off of her. Then, they hold my head down on the cold mattress. I then lifted my right leg and kicked one of the male nurses where it hurts. He didn’t appreciate that very much. He cried out in pain as he held his hands over his sensitive area.

“Why can’t you just cooperate,” one of the female nurses hissed as she pinned my legs to the bed, “You’ve been doing this for three years now."

“How about I put you in restraints once a month for three years and see how you like it,” I replied sinisterly. The nurse glared at me and continued to put on the restraints. I had two leather cuffs on my wrists and ankles that connected to the table by thin but durable chains and a belt-like leather strap across my chest and forehead. I looked over at the nurse whom I had kicked earlier and saw him still crouching in the same position as he did after I kicked him.

“You don’t look too good, buddy,” I commented amusingly.

“No shit Sherlock, you kinda kicked me in a place no man ever wants to get kicked,” he snapped back. All I did was laugh at him internally.

Once I am restrained, a familiar woman with dark brown hair and olive skin comes into the room and looks down at me with disappointment.

“You’ve done this several times already Sophrona, why do you still fight back?” She states, disappointed. I scoffed and glared at the cruel woman.

“Why don’t you have needles stuck in you and see how you feel, Dabria,” I answer angrily, “Why did you torture me by allowing me to see my brother, but not allow me to touch him? I haven’t seen him in three years!”

After my outburst, I'm gagged by one of the nurses and she leaves the room, but not without giving me one last glance and saying, "Behave."

Coward. If she can’t stand seeing us being in pain, then why the hell does she continue this operation of hers. It’s so messed up. We’re just kids.

As soon as she is gone, the doors close, and the pain begins. I look up at the white ceiling as one of the doctors grabs a syringe and fills it with a blue liquid while another connects me to a heart monitor and puts in the IVs, and cleans the area of my arm where the fluid would be injected.

“Since you’ve adapted genetically to Zora-1, now we’re inserting its second strain,” she said flatly. Her face was emotionless as if she didn’t care that any of us were going through excruciating pain throughout this entire process. For me, the pain was both physical and emotional. The doctor with the syringe stated before inserting the liquid into my left arm. After a few minutes, my body begins to burn up. I must have a temperature of at least 103 degrees. Due to my high heat, I begin to feel tired, so I close my eyes and greet sleep with open arms.

According to our health books, Zora-1 is the mixed product of Swine Flu and Ebola. It was a manmade disease that almost wiped the human race out of existence. Some scientist wanted to decrease the world’s population, which he successfully did, but it almost led to the extinction of the human race. If someone were to catch Zora-1, they would be in a living hell and would probably refuse to be resuscitated.

The next few weeks were pure torture. My temperature was on a roller coaster. One day it was 98.8, the next it was over one hundred degrees again. Rashes and seizures also developed, and boy was that fun. The worst and scariest part was when I had trouble breathing. It was as if someone had reached into my chest and was squeezing them as hard as they could. My entire body felt like needles were poking me at every angle. It hurt so much to move, even the smallest movement of swallowing water made me want to cry out in pain. The vomiting wasn’t pleasant, either. I hated the after taste. At this point, I’m not sure if I’d prefer the taste of regular vomit or my blood because they both tasted awful.

I never thought I’d miss my isolation room so much. When I arrived back at my room, I immediately climbed into bed and went to sleep because the worst was yet to come.

For the next few days, I had nothing but sleepless nights. I would struggle to get up in the morning and sometimes would skip meals due to my lack of appetite. I tended to return the food to the guard when he would come to deliver my meals to me. He had chestnut hair that was a buzz cut and caramel eyes. Unlike most of the guards, he was kind to me. He wasn’t rude or meant if anything, he would have a slight look of sympathy towards me. His name was Michael, and he’d been a member of the guard for four years.

One day, when he came by, he knocked on the door and said, “Hey Soph, I brought your favorite dinner, steak, cooked to medium-rare, cheesy mashed potatoes, and corn.” My mouth watered as I quickly limped over to the door to let him in. He walked in and placed my dinner on the table.

“Thank you, Michael,” I said with a genuine smile.

“You’re welcome,” he replied with the same genuine smile, “Just remember to slide the plate and silverware through the dish box so that I can pick it up later.”

And with that, he left the room, closing the door behind him. I walked over to the table and dug into my meal. I took a bite of my steak and moaned as I savored the flavor. The steak was juicy and marinated to perfection. Once I finished my steak, I began eating my cheddar cheesy mashed potatoes. After I practically inhaled that, I moved onto the steamed corn. As soon as I was finished, I did as Michael told me to do and then got ready for bed.