Living Secret

SEQUEL TO DEAD ANYWAY Emily is supposed to be dead. She is dead, right? Wrong. The first night in the grave, something stirs, two somethings, and nothing will ever be the same. Emily knows the government doesn't approve of supernatural creatures, so she joins forces with her newfound twin sister Shera to keep their secret safe. However, trouble arises when they fail to do so. Please note that this Movella is rated YELLOW, due to the usage of minor language.


9. Facility

We arrive at a grey cinderblock building that looks like death. It has chain link fences all around, topped with barbed wire loops. He guides me inside and a henchman wheels Shera on a stretcher. I see a faulty red light-up sign flickering on the building:

Research Lab. for PWMTO

"What's PWMTO?" I ask the official. "Projects With Minds of Their Own," he answers. I shake with rage. "I am not your little project. I do not belong in a lab. And this whole thing is so unfair that if I had a knife I'd kill you," I spit. The official simply sighs. Inside it's like a hospital and jail combined. It's not a happy place. I walk past different rooms with different poor kids locked up in hellholes. One girl I pass is literally a mermaid. They have her imprisoned in a glass tank of water. Another boy has two heads. I shudder and clear the image from my head. They take me and Shera to the most boring room yet. A white room. White cinder walls, white floor tiles, white ceiling tiles. White metal sliding door. They lead us inside and unfold two white plastic chairs. We sit in them. Well, I sit. They flop Shera's lolling body into a sort of sitting position. Then, without a word, they leave. My jaw drops. I try to stand up, but an electrical current zaps me in the neck. I quickly sit again. They've made it so we can't move. Clever, really. Then I hear a voice. "What the..." "Shera!" I exclaim, whipping around to see her awake. "Em? What the freak is going on?" she asks. Only she didn't say "freak". It takes nearly thirty minutes to explain all she missed. When I finally clam up, another grey suited man enters. "Hello, projects 101 and 202," he says coldly. "Emily and Shera," I fire back. "Oh, we don't use your - er - names your parents invented here. We call you properly - like the freaks you are," he sneers. I hate this man. "Screw off," Shera huffs at him. And she didn't say "screw" either. He puffs out his chest self-importantly. "Young lady, that is not the kind of language -" "FREAK," Shera bellows. But, you know by now. Not "freak".

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