Andromeda's Poison
002.
There wasn't a moment where he didn't feel disgusted, nauseous, or faint. The second they snapped off the top of the container he could feel the bile slither up his throat as the putrid smell entered his nostrils. Whatever that liquid was it no wonder they had a gas mask on.
He was quick to take out a handkerchief from his pocket and press it over his nose and mouth, his initials embroidered at the corner with golden sewing string. YSJ. Yurik St. James. As much as he loved his mother he had always detested his first name, no matter how many Yurik's had been in his Russian ancestry.
He quickly caught on to the empty attitudes of the ones running the place. As they slipped her out of the container they were careless, foolish as they held onto her like a ragged doll a child had left behind. It didn't matter if the many tubes were still probed into her body and dragging against the floor or if she kept twitching agains the cold. No. They didn't care. They were just doing their job.
He watched as they put her down on a dark blue stretcher, rolling her naked body not too far away into a sterilized room. His legs pulled him forward, curiosity leading him to stand right next to the glass as his eyes glanced from side to side, a deep frown setting into his face.
Not once did they bother covering her small body. Not when they tore away the tubes, not when they slipped off her mask, not when they stuck needles up her arms and then quickly yanked them out just ask quickly. Not even after they dried her up and pressed two cold paddles against her chest did they even care enough to say, 'Clear!', as her body jolted upwards, her heartbeat monitor rushing into a steady, animated state.
The doctors clapped in unison, congratulating each other for a job well done. He didn't care enough to congratulate any of them. His eyes were fixated on the girl who's hand was twitching with life, who's body glistened against the artificial lights. His eyes widened as that same hand started to reach up to her face, her fingers lightly patting the wrap that hid her eyes from the world.
He started slamming his fist against the glass, his eyes wild with fear as he snapped his head from side to side, every doctor apparently too busy swimming in their own ego to notice what was right in front of their eyes. Only one doctor, young with some stubble above his lip dared to turn around and connect his eyes with him.
It was too late though.
Right as he slammed his fist and finger towards her body did the doctor turn around to late to stare into the mossy green eyes of the girl they had made a mistake to capture.
She didn't even give him a second to cry as she tore off his head.
He was quick to take out a handkerchief from his pocket and press it over his nose and mouth, his initials embroidered at the corner with golden sewing string. YSJ. Yurik St. James. As much as he loved his mother he had always detested his first name, no matter how many Yurik's had been in his Russian ancestry.
He quickly caught on to the empty attitudes of the ones running the place. As they slipped her out of the container they were careless, foolish as they held onto her like a ragged doll a child had left behind. It didn't matter if the many tubes were still probed into her body and dragging against the floor or if she kept twitching agains the cold. No. They didn't care. They were just doing their job.
He watched as they put her down on a dark blue stretcher, rolling her naked body not too far away into a sterilized room. His legs pulled him forward, curiosity leading him to stand right next to the glass as his eyes glanced from side to side, a deep frown setting into his face.
Not once did they bother covering her small body. Not when they tore away the tubes, not when they slipped off her mask, not when they stuck needles up her arms and then quickly yanked them out just ask quickly. Not even after they dried her up and pressed two cold paddles against her chest did they even care enough to say, 'Clear!', as her body jolted upwards, her heartbeat monitor rushing into a steady, animated state.
The doctors clapped in unison, congratulating each other for a job well done. He didn't care enough to congratulate any of them. His eyes were fixated on the girl who's hand was twitching with life, who's body glistened against the artificial lights. His eyes widened as that same hand started to reach up to her face, her fingers lightly patting the wrap that hid her eyes from the world.
He started slamming his fist against the glass, his eyes wild with fear as he snapped his head from side to side, every doctor apparently too busy swimming in their own ego to notice what was right in front of their eyes. Only one doctor, young with some stubble above his lip dared to turn around and connect his eyes with him.
It was too late though.
Right as he slammed his fist and finger towards her body did the doctor turn around to late to stare into the mossy green eyes of the girl they had made a mistake to capture.
She didn't even give him a second to cry as she tore off his head.
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