It was finally time, Mark and Ava were standing at the rebirth station, counting out the tokens. Mark was so nervous, all he knew was that this was it. He didn’t feel ready but Ava felt ready and he wanted to go out into the world with her. They didn’t know what they would do, after all, they had completely distanced themselves from the people they had been. Perhaps rebirth would tell them what they would do…“50…55…wait fuck did I count that one?” He gritted his teeth, realizing he spent so much time thinking that he lost his train of thought.
“Okay, this time, put the ones you counted in my hand so you don’t mess up,” Ava said, glancing at the man stationed there, clearly not happy about the wasted time. “Mark come on…” She tugged his shoulder and moved him out of line so they wouldn’t hold up the line of countless other reagents who also wanted to rebirth. . “You’ve been here for so long, you probably have tons,” She commented, confused as to why he was counting his tokens.
“I just want to be sure.” Mark argued, however suddenly alarms rang out, bright and loud as suddenly Mark was grabbed by a guard, shouting something about finding him. Everything went into chaos, reagents confused and stepping back in fear. Guards yelling orders at everyone and to each other. “What the fuck are you doing?!?!” Mark screamed in confusion before getting strapped into a wheelchair, the same with Ava.
“Clean the whole place for infection.” One of the guards said as he finished with the restraints. “And get these two to that nurse for quarantine.”
“We were only supposed to grab the male.” Another guard said, glancing at Ava.
“This one’s always with him, probably got whatever he had. Better safe than sorry,” the guard said as he slipped a gag on both of them before rolling them out. Mark didn’t understand what was going on!?! He felt fine! Better than fine! And what nurse! He couldn’t do anything as he got rolled into an autopsy room, his eyes widening as he screamed at the bloody tables. Then he noticed her, standing there…
The main guard glared at the nurse. “We brought the girl since she’s always around him, she’s probably also infected. You know the drill.” He said before leaving, leaving the three in silence. Mark was so confused and scared. What illness?! Was he wrong about her?! Was she going to kill them under the pretense of them being sick!?
The very second the three of them were left alone in the autopsy room, Mitzi's smile finally dropped. She knew she was meant to be warm and bubbly; she was the nurse that would treat you to a kind word and gentle treatment, and if you did especially well during your examination, she'd slip you a little contraband in the form of a snack or a cigarette. That's how Ava and Mark came to know her: She was the one who would relentlessly fuss over the both of them, always asking about their hopes and dreams post-therapy, and like the naive nit she was, she fed those falsehoods and encouraged them.
In that stretch of silence that enveloped the trio, Mitzi couldn't manage to play make-believe anymore. God forgive her, she couldn't even look them in the eyes when she knew exactly what they were being subjected to in Easterman's therapy. Through torture, he was teaching them to become calloused and paranoid, fixated only on their own survival. It didn't even matter if they were deemed fit to go above ground because they wouldn't be themselves anymore. They would just be a tool to be used and discarded in serving Murkoff's greater agenda.
"Reynolds, Ava, honey... What have I told'cha about wrigglin' around in the chair like that?" Her voice was cold and flat as she wheeled both of them closer to the medical tray she had already organised: there were syringes, a pick and hammer, and files all in a neat little row. She sounded just like she did whenever she hadn't taken her precious 'helpers'. Just like her resolve, the medication must have ran out.
"I'm gonna give ya both a moment to hush up and pull those screams down deep into ya tummies before I let'cha talk." She leant back against one of those bloodied tables. If the smudges under her eyes and streaks in her powdered face were anything to go by, Mitzi no longer cared for appearances.
Let it get stained for all I care.
"I got so much I'd like to apologise for." Just like a regular checkup, her hand swept up one of the files and she began to skim through it like she was devising a to-do list in her head. "Whatcha been through, what they're gonna put'cha through, and most of all - lyin' straight to your faces."
She pulled out some of the new clippings of past rebirths and held them up to their faces, giving them time to digest the headlines of assassinations and acts or terror.
"Easterman has somethin' real nasty planned for when he sends ya topside and I can't allow that in good faith, so I brought'cha here." Mitzi sighed, snapping the file closed and tossing it aside like a magazine.
"Problem is, I ain't too sure how to stop it. I thought maybe it would be easier to snuff ya both out like kittens in a bath. Maybe I could at least scramble your noggins just like my mama, but that don't feel right to me either."
She paused and gave them another moment to squirm and scream, only this time she removed the gags from their mouths when she felt them settle once more.
"I wanna getcha out but I just don't know how..."
