I squeeze my eyes shut; fill my lungs with air.
I came all this way, I tell myself. I have no other options at the moment. I may as well see it through.
But when I open the door I realize it’s only the first of several. Wherever I’m headed is protected by multiple layers of security. The mechanisms required to open each door are baffling—there are no knobs or handles, no traditional hinges—but all I have to do is touch the door for it to swing open.
It’s too easy.
Finally, I’m standing in front of a steel wall. There’s nothing here to indicate there might be a room beyond.
Touch
Tentatively, I touch my fingers to the metal.
More
I press my whole hand firmly against the door, and within seconds, the wall melts away. I look around nervously and step forward.
Immediately, I know I’ve been led astray.
I feel sick as I look around, sick and terrified. This place is so far from an escape I almost can’t believe I fell for it. I’m in a laboratory.
Another laboratory.
Panic collapses something inside me, bones and organs knocking together, blood rushing to my head. I run for thedoor and it seals shut, the steel wall forming easily, as if from air.
I pull in a few sharp breaths, begging myself to stay calm.
“Show yourself,” I shout. “Who are you? What do you want with me?”
Help
My heart shudders to a stop. I feel my fear expand and contract.
Dying
Goosebumps rise along my skin. My breath catches; my fists clench. I take a step farther into the room, and then a few more. I’m still wary, worried this is all yet another part of the trick—
Then I see it.
A glass cylinder as tall and wide as the wall, filled to the hilt with water. There’s a creature floating inside of it. Something greater than fear is driving me forward, greater than curiosity, greater than wonder.
Feelingwashes over me.
Memories crash into me.
A spindly arm reaches through the murky water, shaky fingers forming a loose fist that pounds, weakly, against the glass.
At first, all I see is her hand.
But the closer I get, the more clearly I’m able to see whatthey’ve done to her. And I can’t hide my horror.
She inches closer to the glass and I catch sight of her face. She no longer has a face, not really. Her mouth has been permanently sealed around a regulator, skin spiderwebbing over silicone. Her hair is a couple feet long, dark and wild and floating around her head like wispy tentacles. Her nose has melted backward into her skull and her eyes are permanently closed, long dark lashes the only indication they ever used to open. Her hands and feet are webbed. She has no fingernails. Her arms and legs are mostly bone and sagging, wrinkled skin.
“Emmaline,” I whisper.
Dying
The tears come hot and fast, hitting me without warning, breaking me from within.
