CHAPTER 15: TESTS
 

Slowly she became conscious of the heavy, claustrophobic breaths she was inhaling. Her senses expanded, quickly scanning where she was, only to find she was restricted in an elevated area. The container that held her was curved like a test beaker, fat where she lay and shrinking to its tip. She was shocked to find her shifted form remained with her and struggled to stand, pushing her paws against the ground and managing the slam her head right into the side of the container. There was no standing space unless she arched her back and pushed her head down. She growled, pulling the vined lips away from her teeth, snarling at whoever was watching. She attempted to send her senses around her, but no beam nor cords kept her off the ground. How she was squeezed into this place was already perplexing enough.

“Good. You're awake.” Spoke a dark voice out of her limited range of sight. She growled lower, facing in the direction of the voice. But the voice echoed around her container, making it seem to come from all directions. The voice laughed heatedly, clearly amused as she made a fool of herself, growling in all directions.

“I assume you've already tried to figure out how to see me, haven't you? Well, we've already met. But we can get to introductions later. First we have a few tests to put you through.”

A mist seeped into the large holding around her, pouring in from the top. To her right the container opened its large metal belly, and a metallic noise rang in her hears. She flattened them to hinder the noise's affect, though at the same time attempted to stay alert. Suddenly a large, muzzle like device covered her mouth, the tube that had held it pulling away before she had a chance to send her senses through it. She growled, but could neither open her mouth, nor pull the thing off. She slammed the side of her head against the metal holding hard, hitting the device, but it would not break. Her paws started to pull apart, the vines gripping at all edges and pulling at the mask that covered her muzzle. Suddenly it shoved something down her throat, liquid that was stored within it pouring into her stomach. She winced, pulling her vines away, whimpering.

“Hurts, doesn't it?” came the voice again, taunting. “It's going through your very make up right now, figuring out how you can live when all you are is a mess of vines. Where did all your organs go? Where have your teeth come from? Where are your bones?”

Katara put her head down, the pain making it hard to even move. Her whimpering grew louder, her tail tucked near her hind legs. A voice chuckled again, “It'll pass, don't you worry. Then you'll finally find out what you really are. Isn't that exciting?” the voice sounded too giddy for Katara's liking, a shiver running down her back. Then something strange happened. The voice began talking to itself.

“Exciting indeed. I wonder if we should dissect her. Dissect her? Would that not kill her? No, no, we'd make sure she didn't die. Wouldn't want our little guard dog to die, would we? No, no. though dissection may be a good idea. Especially if we open her up in the middle of a change. See how it happens. Or maybe we should see if she can heal from being so opened up? Maybe both. Maybe both at the same time. Though we must be careful. Wouldn't want little Kat here to know who we were. Or hurt us. No, no.”

Kat shivered, the thought of someone examining her like a frog chilling her to the bone. Her fear radiated off her like a disease, and noticing it, the voice stopped to laugh. “Oh, dear Katara, don't be so frightened. You'll soon be back with your friends. We only must run a few tests first. Yes, yes, just a few, only a few, dear girl. Then you will be on your way. Yes, yes, such a great foreshadowing indeed. But we must not say anymore, no, no, though she shall feel much better after the dissection. Yes, yes.”

As she listened to the male voice go about his rambling on how best to dissect her, the thought suddenly occurred to her: what if there were two of them? Two insanities, poking around inside her, pulling at things and jabbing things with needles. She shivered; one pair of hands was enough. Suddenly she retched, the smell filling her containment. The liquid that was poured into her now was poured out, and once again, the voice began to speak to her. “Pity. I was hoping that would work. It was a prototype, you see. But apparently it did not like your stomach, nor your stomach it. Shame. We will have to figure out what to do with that, won't we?”

Katara groaned, the pain burning her throat, each breath causing her throat to catch fire. She tried to stand, tried something, anything, to stay awake. But her consciousness was slipping, the pain overwhelming. She had been beat. This was it.

The breaths tore at her throat, burning her lungs, wherever they may be. After the brothers began speaking about where her organs went, she wasn't quite sure she herself knew. Did they remain in her chest, or had they been moved somewhere else within her body during the change? She slowed her steps, gasping for breath, which was hard due to the long cord that was pressed down her throat. Pulling at it had only hurt her, as did attacking it with other means. She laid down, resting her head on her crossed legs. During the time she had been forcefully put to sleep she had been moved to a new container. Much larger, with enough space for her to stand and run around ten strides each direction. Which was what she had been told to do once she woke, and, out of fear of her life, she had complied. She had attempted to find the source of the cord's power, only to find it was long, stretching outside the container and attached to the side, gears and devices monitoring her as she ran, supplying oxygen when it felt as if she could find none. A single clap was heard and one of the brothers spoke. "Excellent! Within this form you can run much longer than any human."
"Much longer, yes," said the identical voice, and Katara could almost hear the nod in his voice. "Longer than a normal wolf?"
"Maybe, maybe longer. We must gather a wild wolf running. We shall compare."
"Yes, yes, compare. See who is the dominant species."
Together, as if with one voice, the two laughed. Kat sunk deeper, trying to force her body to be swallowed into the metal-like ground below her. Her ears were back, fear creeping over ever vine within her body.
"Now, what to test next, hm?"
"Yes, what shall we test? Genes? Does this form contain blood? Can this form even die?"
"That boy had said something about her back. Though looking closely we cannot see a single thing."
"No, no, that boy must have been mistaken."
"Yes, yes, indeed."
"Have we decided?"
"I do believe we have. Genes. We must take a look into what she actually is."
The cord that had been stuck down her throat was now painfully ripped out, the tube pointing its end to shape much like a needle. Kat remained down, whimpering. These men, they spoke of ripping her open, keeping her alive as they took a peek within her guts. She shivered, her paws on her muzzle, tail tucked next to her legs. The needle inched closer, jabbing at the vines that created her shoulder, pulling a single piece out. Katara yelped, snapping at the needle, which retaliated with a slight electric shock. She recoiled, pulling away from the needle, growling quietly.
"Did you see that?"
"Of course I did." Grumbled one of the brothers angrily, and for a moment Katara was led to believe she had done something wrong. She stiffened, preparing for something terrible and painful to her. But the brothers did not notice her behavior, too fixed upon something else.
"The place where she was probed." The brother trailed off, only to be completed by the other.
"It turned blue. Deep blue. Did we get the sample, we do wonder?"
"No, it appears it has been turned to ash and accepted into the atmosphere already. No traces are left."
"None?"
"No, there is nothing. Strange."
"Quite strange indeed. Probe her again."
Katara found the will to move away from the prod, growling. She attempted at words, but only growls and whines came from her mouth. A frown crossed her muzzle, growling in irritation. The brothers laughed, and yet again the needle came. She moved, barking. Still, the laughter rang in her ears. She flattened them in an attempt to block them out. The needle feigned attacking from one side, then struck the same place as before, Katara howling, the pain more intense the second time.
"The same thing again?"
"No, look, the color is red. It seemed to hurt her more this time around." The voice of a chuckled swayed in the air around her, toying with her ears. "Now, Katara, let us hit you one more time, then we will stop our needle, okay?" The voice that came from the man was soothing, the singing voice calming her nerves. Her ears pricked up and, without a second thought, she sat her haunches down against the ground, waiting for the needle once more. It came and brought with it terrible, stinging pain. She could feel the gap in her shoulder, blood trailing from the severed ends of the vine. She howled agonizingly, clawing at the ground, her jaw locked tightly together. Through her pain she was unable to make out the words of the brothers, but, as they had told her, the needle retreated back, their sample gathered.

The rush of the frightened crowd had overwhelmed him, pushing him back and down, forcing him to shelter his head as others ran past. He grimaced as people kicked and tripped over him, terrified screams serving as the only audible sound. When nearly the entire formulated crowd had scattered in all directions he was able to press his palms against the cement and stand. He then observed the wreckage. As people had fled, the nearest of the cars had broken windows and dented hoods. People who had, like him, been trampled were now scrambling away in the distance, ducking behind buildings, rushing to their cars or ways of faster transport. He noticed that one particular man held his arm close to him, crimson dripping to the ground, leaving a telling trail. As Samuel looked around a second time, he noticed that several crimson stains dotted the ground, appearing as if people did not go un-injured during the chaotic escape. The stage was still stained in crimson blood, pooled where the woman had fallen, smeared where she had been helped up. He remembered seeing a glimpse of Alex before he had been shoved to the ground. Samuel was convinced Alex had arrived to save the woman and had already succeeded in her goal. He scanned the buildings' heights, wondering where the shooter would have made the shot. The gaping hole looked almost as if it had come upon her straight on, causing him to look behind him. Samuel was confronted then with a towering building, bordering the park, casting its shadow across the trees. He started towards it, when movement caught his eye. A boy, looking the same age as himself, wandering away from the building. He was headed for the park, a barrel of a scoped sniper hopping against his shoulder as he walked casually away. Samuel started towards him quietly, attempting not to startle the boy, to go unnoticed as he slunk behind him. His synchronized steps aided him in his goal, allowing him to scan the features, even if it was only from behind, of the boy before him. His muscles were evident even with the shirt baggy. His hair was black and spiked, ruffled up as if he ran his hand through it hurriedly before running out of the house. As he sketched the features into his mind, he lost his attention for half a second, causing his foot to fall between the boy's steps. Samuel quickly recovered, but the black haired boy stopped abruptly. Samuel froze behind him, allowing several seconds to pass, both stilling their breaths, listening for the other. Slowly fire crept up Sammy's hand, preparing for a fight when the blue eyed boy whipped around, slamming the butt of the gun against his head. He staggered back, putting his arm up, his palm bracing him against the nearest wall. When the boy struck again he hit bare wall, Samuel slipping under the blow, striking against the boy's knee. The black haired kid jumped back, a scowl pulling against his features.

“Who the hell are you?!”

Samuel lowered his hand, grinning. “I'm the one who's going to-” Mid-sentence recognition registered in both the teenagers' eyes. The chizled perfection before Samuel smiled with delight, unlike the distasteful frown on Samuel's face. Without another word, Samuel struck again, using his hand covered with fire to strike, pressing his palm fulling against the boy's chest. The thief slipped back, narrowly dodging the hit, grinning even wider.

“Is that jealousy, I sense?”

Samuel scowled, swiping for the boy's feet, knocking him onto his back. Samuel pressed a foot against his chest, his hand engulfed in raging fire that matched his eyes.

“You're that guy that likes that Kat chick, aren't you?” The pinned boy said, cocky.

“I could say the same thing to you.”

The dry tongue lapped up all the water it could hold, Katara terrified that it would happen to be stolen from her. Her throat burned even with the water soothing it, but then again, her whole body echoed the same feeling. The flames had overtaken every inch of her being, burning her down to her very last, red vined protection. She felt lucky she could even tell if her being was green, blue, or red, due to the thickness of each layer. And, according to the twins, it would take several hours for her to be healed fully-if she was left to her own devices. The twins seemed strangely bent on trying to strengthen each layer and quicken the time for her to heal. The answer to the why was shrouded by fog. With those such plans, she worried if she would ever leave. When her dying thirst had finally been quenched, she pulled away from the large bowl and sat on her haunches. In an attempt to speak, as she had been instructed to before, she barked. The words barely resembled “All done,” sounding instead like a muffled drunk, howling out nonesense. She hoped it would do. The bowl before her was skillfully swept away, pulled out the side of the metal dome, and stuck to the side, where the mechanical arm had its rest. As she began to lay down, she attempted to figure out how long she had been held here by judging how many times she had healed. Nearing the conclusion, however, caused the side of the metal dome to open up like the gates of Heaven. Her ears pricked up and she stood, debating to run blindly from the massive dome to her freedom. Without fully thinking, she bolted from it, her paws hitting the ground hard and diving out of the holding. A whisper than rose to the surface of her mind.

Don't run.