Superhuman

In a dystopian America, Trinity Shire, and three other teenagers are taken captive by the government to be used as scientific experiments. The scientist plan on making the "perfect human". They strive to create someone that is able to conquer anything. They spent years perfecting a chemical that could wash out the mind of a human so they can't think for themselves. They plan to build an army of mindless power machines, but will they succeed? Copyright © 2013 by Cassidy McClurkan,
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17. Chapter Sixteen

      I lay uncomfortably in the bed. The old springs press into my back, causing my muscles to stiffin. I stare blankly at the ceiling, creating pictures against it's pale paint with my imagianation. A fear of being stuck here forever creeps into my mind, but I push it out knowing that Lance and Griffin are looking for me. Hopfully

      The wood floors screach ocassionaly. I constantly sit up, making sure that nobody is coming into my room. Fatuige sets in as the night drags on, and eventually I give up on the thought of sleep. The wind pounds against the window, and rattles the shutters outside. 

      I can here Griffins voice mock "What took you so long?" when I had saved him. Now I'm asking the same question, only this time, I'm dead serious. I dont attempt escape because I know the lock on the door is sealed shut. I wouldnt be suprised if they placed a bolder in front of it. The window has a metal barrier that is inches thick, but it doesnt block out the sound from outside. 

      I pace aimlessly in the room. There are no picters to look at, or vibrant colors to light up the room. It brings me back to the lab where they injected the serum into us. There is probably thousands of Drones by now. I can't figure out what the government wants with them. Maybe to stop the rebellion, or to distroy every living person so they can controll America, or at least whats left of it.

      I yearn for the company of Griffin and Lance. I constantly think of Griffin's smile, which makes my heart burst with warmth. Lance's unforgetible laughter causes me to smile, and it's remarkable that he smiles through all the trials we've faced. I million thoughts float around my head, and I try to find meaning in them. 

     They would only take me if I am useful to their plan. But what is their plan? To make a mindless army, and take over everything? Or is it something more, somingthing bigger than Griffin, Lance, and I? These are the questions I ask repetivly. 

      I head over to the sealed window, and place my hands against the metal. I close my eyes, and inhale. Why didn't I think of this before? I can easily open the window. I open my eyes, and feel the power surge through my body, but nothing moves. I ram myself against the solid over and over, hoping to make a dint, but nothing happens. 

      Panicing, I thrust my body into the wall, and it crumbles. Bits of dry wall shower above me, and hope begins to bloom inside of me. As I keep raming, the wall shadders against the floor. I feel nothing against my shoulder, It's almost as if I'm jumping into a cloud. 

      Abruptly, the cloud vansihes beneith me, and a seering pain shoots though my side. I throw myself away from the wall. "What is going on?" my voice fades as I stare at the metal. Beneith the drywall is the same type of metal thats seals he window. Thats when I realize I'm not just in a room, I'm in a cell. A cell made of a material that can stop even a superhuman from braking though it. I collasp onto the floor cradeling my shoulder, and covering my face with my other hand.

        I look around the room, and try to lose focus. I try to make myself desolve. As my eyes wonder, a small glimmer of light catches my eyes. I sit up, and peer into the light. In the coner of the ceiling, sits a circlar object, that shifts as I approch it. It's metal shell around it, coils, then retreats. It's a camra. I'm being observed. 

       "What do you want from me? You don't understand what you're doing if you take my blood! This is not some revolutionary human the government created. I am a project, I'm a freak!" My voice bounces around the room. I listen closely, expecting a reply. 

       As the hours drag on, I grow more anxious. Sweat beads in the crease between my brows, and my fingers slip in my palms. The feeling is familiar. Ever since the injection, I feel like I haven't had a moment of rest.

       I don't know how long I have been sitting here, but when the nob on the door turns, I know it has been awhile. I glare at the floor while cradeling my shoulder that is still throbbing. I plan an attack within a few seconds.

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