There was a sharp bang, I rolled over. The ground was damp and cool against my skin. I sat up and brushed hair from my face. A tray of food slid under the door quickly followed by another bang as the food slot closed. I stood and stretched, hearing a couple of pops from my back I gently released the held position.
My bare feet made slapping sounds against the concrete floor. I squatted at inspected the food. Bread, cheese, some thinly cut meat, and a round green piece of fruit. That's new, I picked it up and bit into it. Bitter and foul tasting. I spit it out and placed it back on the tray. Must be some new genetically modified fruit that they decided to test on the inmates before sending to the public. The rest of the food was normal; as normal as you can get from printed food. There was still an unnatural aftertaste to it. An alarm blared announcing that our dear President Fawks was about to make an announcement.
"Good morning!" His voice, as always, had that fake cheerfulness dripping off each word. It made me feel nauseated. "This year's choosing is going to be the most competitive yet!" Oh, it's that time already. I got up and moved back to the far corner of my cell. It had nothing to do with me, they'd never make the mistake of letting me out of here again after last time. "This year ,we decided to release all of you lovely specimens." Interesting, I knew they were fools, but this is imbecilic. "The competition is one that requires you to have an owner and protect your owner until the end." So, that's how they're playing, I chuckled to myself. Did they really think that would curb my anger? "Failure this year means death. I hope you all make the cut this year." This is why they decided to let me participate. Either be owned or legally murdered.
I leaned against the wall. Being owned was about the last thing I wanted and they knew that. However, death would stop the whole revenge bit. I slid sideways until I was laying on my side. Death wasn't an option. I just needed to convince a sucker to take me in, survive the challenge pit, and murder Fawks. How hard could it be?
A guard opened the viewing slot at eye level. I waved. A weird growling noise responded. Who was supposed to be the animal again? The door opened.
"Any suddenly movements and we've been given permission to fire." He showed the gun. I slowly raised my hands. "On your stomach." I rolled over. 'Play dead', the sarcastic voice responded. Handcuffs were quickly tightened onto my wrists. He pulled me to my feet.
"I don't bite." I teased looking at him over my shoulder. "Not that hard anyways." His face contorted into one of disgust.
"I don't know why we keep something as wretched as you around still." He shoved me towards the door.
"They don't want a martyr, duh." He slammed my head into the wall.
"Quiet." He grabbed my shoulder and pushed me down the corridor. He was grumbling incoherently to himself. Something about losing a bet and having to deal with the trash or something. The ringing in my head was distracting me from paying attention. We walked to the end of the corridor and stepped onto the lift. We went up three levels. When we got out, I realized that we were headed to the groomers. Well that's fantastic, the sarcastic voice said. It had been a while since the last time I was up here.
A middle aged woman in a white uniform met us at the entrance.
"Thank you for getting her for us." The man grunted and nodded. He pushed me with the gun and I followed the woman inside. The air was hot and steamy. "When are they planning on showcasing them?" She led me to a stall and hooked the handcuffs to a metal chain. The man relaxed slightly and turned away, I assumed to give me the illusion of privacy and the woman cut away what remained of my clothing. Her nose wrinkled as she pulled the cloth from my body.
"Tomorrow, sometime early in the afternoon. There'll be a briefing on it later before we clock out." The woman nodded.
"So she'll only be on the upper levels overnight then?"
"Only if she gets picked. Otherwise she gets one more night of princess treatment before boom." He made a gun gesture to his head. They did realize that I knew what they were saying, right? I rolled my eyes. The woman turned on a faucet and filled a bucket.
"I don't know what's worse. Her getting out or having to watch her be put down." The man laughed. She dumped the bucket over my head. I sneezed. She jumped back.
"Water's cold." I told her. She ignored me and applied soap to my head.
"Will there be extra security on her cell tonight then?"
"So I've heard." The man scratched his face. The woman scrubbed the soap roughly through my hair detangling the matted mess. She didn't speak again, seemingly absorbed in her job of cleaning me so I was presentable. The man yawned a couple of times. As the woman went on with cleaning the water she used slowly got warmer and warmer. I began relaxing as my tension seemed to melt away. She was seriously good at her job.
"I'm going sit down slowly." I remembered the warning the man gave me early about sudden movements. The woman nodded and backed away slightly and I slid against the stall wall to the floor. I closed my eyes again as the woman went back to scrubbing.