Inhumains âme

A man. A man for crying out loud! How is he an amazing specimen? she thought, although he is quite amazing to look at. The man’s head that had previously been bowed towards the floor suddenly snapped up as if he’d heard her. He stared at her rather intensely, almost as if he was seeing something for the first time. This gave her a chance to survey him, he was about 6’0 with dark hair that reached a little past his shoulders and a beard, not very long, but a beard non-the-less; he had startling violet eyes, which were narrowed in what appeared to be strong dislike; his jaw was broad and looked strong but it was it was not possible to tell as it was set into a tight clench; his shirt was torn and barely covered his pale chest, which appeared to have tattoos or markings of some sort; his pants were torn at the knees as if he’d been dragged roughly across hard concrete ground and his bloodied hands were clenched into tight fists.

Dr. Winters tilted her head slightly and looked questionably at the man who had appointed her as director of this ‘new species analysis’, he only grinned in response. “What is this?” she questioned confused, as were many others around her.

“This Dr. is specimen 283! The very one which I acquired for you! ” he answered gleefully. Seeing her face slowly turn into an expression of disgust and horror he questioned her as if in a state of panic, “I hope you’re not disappointed Dr. I am aware that you are familiar with much more advanced and strenuous challenges and developments unlike this one… but-”
“Disappointed?” She whispered. “Disappointed?! You drag a man out in front of me as an experiment and you have the bravado to ask if I’m disappointed?!” She bellowed, making several people around her jump and all others in the room shift uncomfortably in their seats.

He gulped, finally comprehending the fact that he’d not gone about this in the best way. She stared at him with wide eyes, still not believing the scenario which she now found herself. Experiments... analyze… her own species? What kind of deranged physcopath thought this one up?
“I refuse,” she stated, although not much louder than a whisper, it was evidently heard throughout the room.
“Excuse me?” the man asked, disappointment and astonishment were unconcealed in his voice.
“You heard me,” she said, her confidence building with each passing second she thought about this atrocity of a project.
“I refuse. I refuse to be a part of this. I refuse to assist in any way. And I refuse pointblank to go with in ten feet of him,” she declared, pointing her finger towards the rugged and worn man before pushing her chair, which she had subconsciously jumped from during her rant, out of her path and stalking towards the door, leaving a trail of a menacing presence behind her.

With a fierce heave, she yanked open one of the surprisingly light doors and practically ran down the passage and into the bustling corridor where she pushed and shoved her way to the stairwell. From there she ran down the numerous flights and stairs, not even pausing for a rookie, whose arms were full of boxes and wanted help with opening a door.

She burst into the main hallway of the building and marched briskly out of the building into the crisp autumn air. There was only one word for how her mood was right now and that was livid.
*****
“Hey! Watch it!” Dr. Winters illustrated the arts of ‘one-fingered-sign-language’ as a response. She had just climbed stone-faced out a taxi and, after flinging a few notes at the driver, marched furiously across the crazy-pavement that led to the entrance of her apartment block, almost knocking over a tall, dark haired woman in the process.

“Good evening Dr. Winters,” a man in a red and black militia style coat greeted her at the door, opening it for her as he smiled warmly. She grunted in response, hunching her shoulders forward as if to shrink away from some invisible force. The doorman let the door close behind her as she walked briskly through the royal red, gold and cream Georgian style lobby towards the elevator.

“Some mail arrived for you this morning Dr.” a short man with slicked back dark hair called as he waved her over. Dr. Winters approached the desk feeling quite jaded as she waited impatiently for the man to obtain her mail, which was very clearly lost amongst the invisible clatter.

“Ah, here we are,” he grinned as her handed her several envelopes of different sizes addressed to ‘Miss Alison Katherine Winters’. “Have a pleasant evening Kat,” he called, realising that she had retreated silently to the elevators. He watched, his smile slipping from his face, as she furiously stabbed the button to her floor. Her petite form disappeared from view in the lobby and she heaved a sigh of exhaustion, leaning against the wall of the elevator for support.

A ding sounded just as the doors opened, revealing a cream, royal red and gold corridor, correspondent with the decor in the lobby. She rummaged through her tote bag whilst walking slowly out of the elevator, her feet leading her in the familiar direction of her apartment. “Gotcha,” she mumbled when her hands grasped the cold metal at the bottom of her bag. She dropped her bags and put down her collection of papers and envelopes before sliding the key into the heta shaped key hole.
She picked up her papers and her attaché case then stepped inside her apartment, closing and locking the door securely behind her. “Welcome home Kat,” she mumbled. Kat dragged herself in the direction of her couch and let her bags fall on the black leather sofa and placed her papers on the coffee table with a thump that sounded throughout the empty apartment.