WRITTEN FOR @bigspot, BASED ON THIS. // ❀
YOU’RE SAFE NOW, YOU’RE SAFE.
-- MA’AM, CAN YOU HEAR ME?
MISS, CAN YOU TELL ME YOUR NAME?
words echo, falling on ears that don’t listen. it must have been a dream, it had to have been a dream. she was holed up somewhere under a bit of debris when they found her ; head to toe in gear, gas masks covering their faces -- it was a nightmare. the light that shone in her face was nearly enough to blind her, and she wasted no time in squeezing her eyes shut. that just meant she couldn’t see when they began to pick her up from beneath her arms, bringing her to her feet. I DON’T THINK SHE’S CONSCIOUS. ❝ -- what are you doing, ❞ she mumbled out softly, words slurred. while it seemed like such a short time in her mind, it was actually fairly quick that she began to find her footing. ❝ hey, get off me-- get off! ❞ she was struggling against them, falling to her knees to scurry over to where she had made her bed, reaching for her pistol. MA’AM, PUT IT DOWN! she turned over to her back, pointing the weapon straight at the man who was seemingly trying to help her, and she’s lucky she didn’t get shot.
GIVER HER THE SAME TREATMENT.
the voice of the woman who seemed to be in charge was heard loud and clear, causing alicia’s hear to rise to her throat, pounding. PUT THE GUN DOWN! she wouldn’t. she was just about to get more rowdy when the stinging sensation of a dart piercing the skin of her shoulder caused her to ultimately drop the weapon. it wasn’t common knowledge to her then that there had been more people before her who acted out just as rationally, and they were put down as well. she drifts off.
hours and hours pass until she finally wakes up. eyes shoot open, her body immediately upright, and there are a few things that are out of place. it seems to be some kind of.. science building by the interior looks, walls a shiny metal, and there’s.... air conditioning? all the lights are working, there’s an air vent off to the side of her that’s shifting to be directly blowing on her, and the sound of people buzzing outside of her small enclosure absolutely shakes her mind. looking down at her body, she notices a change of clothes ; clean, tidy.. it’s a pair of sky blue scrubs. ❝ wh-- ❞ the beginning of the word is breathed out, fingers pinching and pulling at the fabric that sits loosely against her ; truly, she must look feral to anyone on the outside.
through completely hysteria and shaken limbs, her gaze finally trails upwards to get a good look of the room -- that’s when she sees someone else sitting in the corner on a small round stool. ❝ what is this? where am i?! ❞ she begins, clearly defensive in the harsh way she talks, and shown even father by how she jumps to her feet. for a moment she looks back, hands then frantically sorting through the blankets when she doesn’t see her gun. it’s not on her, it’s not on this bed... -- then she remembers the voices of strangers, telling her to put the gun down, the orders of a woman telling her soldier to give her the same treatment. she puts her focus back on him. she figures he’s here to watch her, make sure she doesn’t get out. yet, before either of them can utter another word, her body decides it’s time to move again, this time heading for the door at the foot of her bed. palms slam against the metal beast, pounding over and over until she realizes... there’s a key pad next to it, and she definitely doesn’t have the combination. so, again, attention goes back to him, ❝ what is this place? why am i in here?! ❞
