A-127 laid stiffly on her bed, her purple hair splayed. She was dressed in grey coveralls, black boots worn on her feet. She stared at her pale white hands, surveying her nails, like it was the most enjoyable thing in the world.
It was her only sense of entertainment, that and that horrible "Max the Hound" cartoon that she hated with fiber of her being. She never really understood the appeal. Her pink eyes darted to the door which slid open and a looming figure stood in the doorway. "Stand up A-127," he barked.
She sat up and her eyes observed the two figures. One was a soldier, that dark jacket, khaki pants, brown boots and dark cap was unmistakable. The other was dressed in a white jumpsuit with white boots and gloves. A white overcoat completed the look. She had called him "The Bad Doctor.
The Bad Doctor gestured for her to rise and she complied. She was in no mood to be reprimanded again, however she did curse him in her mind in three different languages. She walked up to the men and the Bad Doctor lifted her lips up to check her gums and teeth. He was making sure she wasn't infected like "No-Good disease" and the "K-Virus"— as the common folk called it. Their real names were too complicated to remember.
She mentally cursed him as his rubber gloves brushed against her inner cheeks in her mouth, her toes curled by the sensation. He pulled his fingers out and flashed her smile before saying something to the guard in a different language.
He turned and walked out and she followed him, the soldier not close behind. "Happy B-Day, A-127," he said to her as they walked. She simply nodded. It wasn't something to be excited about. Every year, she dreaded her birthday, as it always meant her time in Facility A was coming to a close.
She was led to a room labelled "Shower", with the symbol being a flat icon of a man showering, wearing a shower cap and scrubbing his arms as the water hit him. "Go on," the Bad Doctor beckoned.
She went to the door and reached out, but it slid open, making her jump back. The soldier snickered and she looked back, fury in her eyes. "You'd better not be laughing at me," she thought.
She turned back around and walked in, the door closing behind her. She reached up and unbuttoned her coveralls, letting it slide down and pool at her feet. She slid it off and undid her boots' laces, pulling out of them and grunting. She slid off her socks and tossed them onto the discarded jumpsuit.
She walked forward and carefully stepped into the shower, its showerhead being rectangular in shape. She stared at it for a while, her brow raised in curiosity. Why was a it a rectangle?
Her eyes notice the blue button, just waiting to be pressed. She presses the blue button and warm water hit her face. She gasped and looked down, his hands sheltering her face. The water cascaded onto her body before hitting the ground, wetting her hair.
Her body shook, indicating she was sobbing. But they weren't happy sobs. She knew now what this meant. To bath was a privilege in Facility A. You behaved, you were blessed with the opportunity to shower. But this was a personal shower, for her alone. To show she's grown, to show she's doesn't need to be in Facility A anymore.
A-127 stepped out, glancing back as the soap suds swirled going down the drain. Symbolic of her life here being no-more.
She drapes herself in a soft white towel. It was fluffy and had a faint smell but she didn't know what it was though. All she knew it didn't smell like dirt.
She exited the room and her eyes darted to the two men. They walked away and she followed, water droplets left in her wake, her feet leaving wet footprints.
A-127 entered another room labelled "Dress," the flat icon of woman, twirling in a dress, a hat adorned on her head. As the door closed behind her, she flinched as the lights turned on. She blinked away the glare and noticed she inside a vast room, surrounded by clothes.
She ran up to one rack and checked each one, her eyes brightening and a smile forms on her face. "Welcome," a feminine voice spoke. She yelped and leapt into rack of clothes, hiding herself in them. She poked her head out, a curtain of hair hiding her eye. A hologram glitched in existence, being a pale blue loop.
"My name is B.E.E. Boutique Enhanced Essentials. How can help you?" B.E.E asked as A-127 stepped out.
"I..." she paused, not knowing what to say. She had never spoken to an AI before. Her whole life, she's been told AIs are evil. Perhaps this one of the good ones, the ones they've managed to decode.
"I....I think I would like some...clothes?" She asked, sounding unsure of what to ask. "Is that a question or request?"
A-127 fidgeted her fingers, her feet meeting. She smiled at her toes, which she wiggled. It was always nice to see them. "Is that a question or request?" B.E.E repeated as she glanced up.
"A request," she answered, clutching her towel.
"Very well," the Ai spoke. The loop glitched into the form of a tall, slender woman, wearing a tight long sleeves dress with leggings and heels, her hair styled in a slicked back ponytail.
A-127 slowly walked around the hologram, cautiously. "You've...changed your shape," she said, marveling. "Yes, indeed. From your data I scanned from you, you seem more receptive to feminine figures," the hologram answered.
Definitely one of the good ones. Wait....
"Scanned?" She repeated, pulling her towel taunt. "Your brain. I apologize for any breech in anatomy," B.E.E spoke. "It's alright," A-127 replied.
The hologram snapped her fingers as three articles of clothing float down. Presenting itself to A-127, they were paired with the appropriate undergarments.
A-127 walked up to the first outfit: a purple sleeveless A-line dress, patterned with pink flowers and purple flats. A sunhat with a purple sash completed the look and it was accompanied by pink undergarments. She grabbed the soft skirt, smiling at the sensation of fabric in her hand.
She glanced over to see the second outfit: a blue shirt, a pale denim overalls, white sneakers and socks. The undergarments were grey. She stuck out her tongue in disgust, her eyes then flittered to the last outfit.
It was a white blouse with a black pencil skirt, black pantyhose and black heels. Skin-toned undergarments were beside it. A-127 lightly brushed her fingertips against the blouse. "We have a winner?" B.E.E asks her, standing behind the girl. A-127 nodded. "Yes."
The door slid open and A-127 walked out, twirling, and showing off her outfit. The white blouse clung to her top as she pressed her hands against the black pencil skirt. She admired how her legs looked while wearing black pantyhose and she eagerly clicked her heels together.
"Very nice," The Bad Doctor smiled, nodding his head in approval. They walked away and she followed, waving at the hologram. B.E.E waved back as the doors closed.
The men stood in front of another room, labelled "Dining Room," in bold. The men walked through the door, as she followed. She followed them through a white tunnel into a blinding bright white room, filled with people. The men were dressed in white sleek longline shirts, white pants and boots and the women wore white sleek dress, leggings and heeled boots.
Each had an unnerving too-smile on their face, making her entrails run cold. She spots a chair with a singular table. On that table, was a small cake, covered in brown frosting. She pulled the chair back and sat down in it, bringing it forward. She could feel the eyes on her all the while. The Bad Doctor walked up to her, resting his hand on their chair.
"You're seventeen now. Can you believe it?" He asked, joyfully. A-127 nodded, though she sadly stared at the cake. "It's chocolate if you're wondering," he adds, chuckling as he clenches and unclenches the chair. "Where I'm going...will they treat the same way you do here?" She asked, still gazing at the cake.
The Bad Doctor leaned close to her ear and whispered, "When you arrive at Facility B and you stay there, there will be nights that you hope you past peacefully in your sleep. You'll wish you'd never age. Understand?"
A-127 clenched the arm rests tightly.
"Good," he smiled against her ear. Straightening he fixes his coat. "Now eat up," he bids her. She reaches over and picks up the fork and knife. Everyone clapped—stiffly, in perfect unison—as she cuts a slice, cutting off a piece of the slice with a fork, raising it to her mouth. She chewed slowly, trying to keep her tears at bay.
It was too good. She hadn't eaten this kind of chocolate before. Normally it'd be bland and flavorless but the tears weren't for the chocolate. No, no. This really was over for her.
After she finished, the empty plate was taken away and a TV took its place. It was switched on and the lights switched off. "Before you leave," The Bad Doctor said, turning up the volume, "We're ending this day on a joyful note."
The people filed out, the soldier trailing behind as the door sealed shut, leaving her and the Bad Doctor alone.
A familiar chime played as the screen scrolled through a field. The grief was dispelled, being burned away by rage. She unclenched and clenched her fists, rubbing her heels against each other to keep herself from lashing out.
A cartoon dog hopped onto the grass on the screen, wagging its tail and howling. His fur was brown, his eyes bright blue, a tuft of hair dark brown and his ears light brown. "Hello," he said. "My name is Max! And we're going on adventure!"
She let out a blood-curled scream, which echoed, as the animal kept talking. His bright blue eyes remained on her for too long. Like he was judging her. Judging her situation.
The Bad Doctor stood there, his lips curled into a smile, his eyes reflecting her trashing about in her seat as the cartoon kept playing. His smile didn't waver, even as a single tear came down her face. "Today's adventure, we're going to the beach. Let's go!" He waved as he ran off as the words, "Max the Hound," appeared in yellow italics.
A-127 walked out of the room, her arms hung low, her arms slouched. Her eyes showed how tired she was, how that cartoon drained her. Her steps were one of defeat as The Bad Doctor placed a hand on her. "Come my dear," he said, guiding her down the hallway. "The best is yet to come."
She's lead down the hallway, children lined up on each side, eyeing her as she walked. She glanced to one than the other. She had seen them as rivals—nothing more than competition—but not she saw them as the lucky ones. The ones who could hang on, a little longer.
She saw one boy, his sleeve empty indicating his missing arm. She remembered how he'd lost it. They were in the yard that day, milling about, wondering what's to happen.
The Bad Doctor showed up, telling them they'd be playing a simply game. Just as suddenly, the grey floor started to open. The kids were leaping over great gaps to avoid the graters below.
She jumped but missed. The boy caught her and pulled her up and in gratitude she kicked him into the abyss. She barely moved as she heard his scream of agony.
They say he's lucky that he only lost his arm.
She's lead out the door to a truck, its door open. She's helped up and sat down on the seat provided. The Bad Doctor smiled as some soldier hopped in. "I know you'll love Facility B," he said grinning, his eyes bright. She didn't speak. She didn't move. She only sat as the door closed and the vehicle shortly roared to life. It drove out through the gate and into the great beyond.