Dead Girl by L.J. Stapleton

Author:L.J. Stapleton [Stapleton, L.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-09-30T16:00:00+00:00

Raindrops on roses

My eyes blink open to a small drip coming from somewhere in the ceiling. Cold, tiny drops are splashing onto my forehead. The blur fades away like a fog disappearing. I feel conscious, left to wonder if I’ve crossed over into a strange afterlife. I thought for sure it would just be oblivion, but now as I wake, my senses are turned on.

I can feel the cold stone slab beneath my body. The smell of mildew in the air fills my lungs, and the soft whisper of pitter patter from the drip moistens the floor. My sister would know how to fix the leak. She spent most of her time reading books about everything, including plumbing. Drip, drip, drip, the leak continues, going unfixed.

The paint on the metal door across from me is chipped in long trails of scratch marks followed by smears that appear to be dried blood.

Wherever I am is a very bad place, whether that’s hell or some matrix. I crawl my way over to the door and try the handle, but it’s locked as I suspected. A tight knot begins to form in the pit of my stomach. I lean into the cold, scratched-up door and press my ear against it.

A murderous scream on the other side sends me crawling backward as fast as I can and curling myself into a ball. How long will I be kept inside this tiny little cell? I pinch myself reluctantly and feel the tight pain. If I feel pain, then maybe I’m not dead. Or maybe I am dead and this is some kind of sick punishment. What if I spend eternity in here? My mind races to all sorts of possible horrors that might become my fate. Hazel must have known this is where we all end up, the patients at least. But I wasn’t a patient.

The walls feel like they are swallowing me whole, and my body convulses for a moment. Just as I can feel myself unraveling, I hear scratchy footsteps stop in front of my door. A tiny beep chirps and a latch releases. A man wearing a white coat marches in. His dark skin is like a shadow towering over me.

For a moment he’s just a nameless stranger standing in the middle of the room, until I see his blank face beneath the small bulb of light dangling from the ceiling. Dr. Patel.

“Lydia, your new name is L-19. First initial and age. I need to do a full evaluation, so your cooperation is imperative. Please note: If you fail to cooperate with the assignments, you will be tortured in ways that will shock your system to a place of no return. Do you understand?”

My face feels blank.

“Do you understand?” he repeats in a louder tone.

I nod quickly.

“Why aren’t I ... dead?” my voice surfaces out of my throat.

“You signed an agreement to be used for human testing.” His voice is void of emotion.

“So why am I still alive?” I argue.

“We don’t specify the order of your death.

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