Alice's escape
Prompt: Weeds and ruins
WIP: Death of a monarch butterfly
Prompt by: @flashfictionfridayofficial
Most nights, Alice trembled in her cot. Nights were always full of remembering. She was a Delta now -- and while that held its own cacophony of horrors, her sleepless nights were spent remembering the Beta program.
Betas didn't get cots. They got cages. You always knew who was new by the sound of someone calling for a parent they would never see again. The worst part of the Beta program lay in those cages. [Redacted by the author, as this next part includes acts of abuse/torture]
But the best part, or at least the part that was the most bearable, were the sensory chambers. Alice always had to be careful not to look excited when it was time for sensory deprivation. Most of the betas who hadn't learned to dissociate yet hated the loneliness and darkness that had come with them. The others, who had mastered escaping their own mind, hated the time lost. They didn't always come back fully when the time in the chamber was over, and so lost as much as a day and several meals. No one was allowed to speak or touch, so there wouldn't ever be anyone to help anchor you or help you eat.
Alice had found a way to avoid both problems. She no longer panicked, and refused to give the program the last bit of her that was still hers. So she created the Forest.
She had learned from her Sessions with her handler that her mind was a map. She had a castle, a beach, and a swing set. Three commands to control her every action. Her refusal to give in to panic or escape let her alter her map.
At first, it didn't work. She didn't have access to smell in the chamber, and hypnotizing yourself was hard enough without a trigger. She kept trying, mouthing out her commands without trying to speak them. She wouldn't hear them anyway. In that respect, the chamber helped. There were no distractions. Then she saw it.
The forest, the only black area in her teal tinted world. It had broken off part of the castle, leaving large stone ruins scattered across the entrance. She climbed over them. Now she had a choice. She could see a benign looking patch of poppies, soft and light in this dark land. She turned away from it and picked through a patch of tall, barbed weeds. Poppies were never safe.
In a clearing, there were boxes and birds. She had a gun.
"Beta!" One cawed. "Time out!" Alice fought back a shiver, the gun in her hand trembling. She flinched, expecting a current of electricity to hit her right then and there. Nothing happened. "Bad girl!" The crow called out. She shot it.
It fell in a hole. She could bury it, but it had to be more than that. She had to keep this demon from resurrecting. Demon... That gave her an idea.
"Iron." Her command came out strong and angry, despite her worry it wouldn't work. An iron coffin covered the bird. "Deeper." The hole plunged another six feet, taking the box with it. "Salt." A layer of white fell over the iron coffin, which rumbled in response. Alice stepped back, her heart skipping. "Bury!" She cried out, anger replaced by fear. "Bury it in stone! Now, bury it now!" The grave finished itself, a picture of a cage engraving itself on the smooth finished surface.
Alice turned and ran. Chamber time would end soon, and she didn't have time to bury any of the other demons that cried out to her on the way out.
Her handler stared at her as she was pulled from the chamber. He had to know something had happened. She was sure her brain was lighting up in all sorts of new places, and comforted her self with the fact--the hope-- that he couldn't see what she had. She dropped her gaze, trying to look submissive and defeated. You're next. She thought. I'll bury you next, and then I'll kill you.
