Ranting n MCR :3

NewsAGoGo, no... They weren't NewsAGoGo yet. No. They were KJ_PROTOTYPE_#10.05.4. Just a number in a sterile white system. A perfect system. Wakes up once again. The same white walls surrounding them. The walls they've woken up to for... A long time now. After a month they'd lost count.

They used to be a mostly regular kid. Well, as normal as a kid living in The Lobby could be. They were happy. They had a family who loved them. Sure, they didn't have a lot of money. There was just enough. They had a sibling who loved them. The person who'd soon be known as Show Pony. That time, when everything felt right, it felt so far away now.

Their life was monotonous now. Exhausting. Depressing. Wake up to the same white walls. Take medications. Continue testing. They didn't even know what the experiments were for. Hadn't been told what they really were. They wouldn't learn for a long time.

The voice, same as always, droning, monotone, but with that strange, almost uncanny, cheeriness crackles through the speakers of their cell "Prototype, it is time to wake up". Newsie didn't understand why they were called a prototype. Like they were a droid or robot. Like they weren't human

They sigh. Rubbing their eyes. The room was blinding. All white. Was it to drive them insane? Their head pounded. Dehydration mixed with the blinding white lights.

Their thoughts drift. To the time before this facility. Were they really happy back then? Had it all been a dream? They can't remember. Why can't they think of their twin's face? Why was it gone? No. No. No. This can't possibly be happening. They plant their face back into the pillow. And scream. It's muffled by the pillow. But barely.

Emotions flood their mind. They can't even reach for one. Anger? No. Grief? No. No. Too many emotions. Not enough time to think. Their head hurts. They can't tell if it's because of the thoughts or... Just why it had been hurting before. Dammit.

The steel door to their cell finally opens. One of the many doctors walks in. Shoes clacking against the tile floors. The click clacking spelling out doom. Newsie's face slowly rises from their pillow. Looking into another blank, but smiling face. All too familiar at this point. The woman in front of them, her name tag read "Dr Mal". They vaguely recognized the name. Faces all blurred together to Newsie. Maybe it was the drugs, injections. Experiments. Everything. Or maybe they were just bad at placing faces. They were good with names though

"Good morning, prototype. I hope you had a... Restful sleep". Dr. Mal smiles. Not a pleasant smile. Just that bland smile all Battery City citizens wore. Dr. Mal takes out her clipboard. Ready to write down everything Newsie responds with. They didn't want to answer. Although, it wasn't like they had an actual choice. There were no choices here. They hadn't had a choice since being brought here.

"I slept... Fine". They didn't mention the back pain. Or any of the pain. There was a lot. Didn't want to admit anything. Not to Dr. Mal. Or anyone. Dr. Mal nods. Writes something down. Newsie gets a glance at it "subject is lying about sleep again". Their face scrunches up.

"I... I haven't lied 'bout anythin'. I promise" Newsie mutters. Dr. Mal's smile fades quickly. She sets her clipboard down. She then replaces the smile to her face. But it's different. A false smile hiding her anger. "We monitor your sleep. Your dreams. You dreamt of life before this. Again. As you have every night since your arrival. You awoke at 3:31, 4:57, and 6:00 am respectively, each time, crying about a life you cannot ever return to".

Newsie stares at the doctor in awe and horror. How could they monitor dreams? They open and close their mouth. Dr. Mal's smile becomes more real at their confusion. As if she enjoyed this. Which, wasn't surprising to them at all.

Dr. Mal writes something else down. Newsie lays back down. Dr. Mal moves again. She walks towards the grey cabinet in the back corner of the cell. Grabbing three pill bottles, and a syringe. As Newsie has come to recognize. Set times each day to take their medications.

Something about today did feel different though. Not the good kind. It felt as if Better Living was... Slowing down the experiments. And they knew that that was usually a sign for something bigger.

Newsie watches as Dr. Mal walks over, a cup of water in her hands alongside all three pill bottles, and the syringe. She sets the syringe and bottles down. Opening the first, second, third. Grabbing three pills, one from each. Handing them the cup of water and pills. Watching very closely, making sure they take everything. Newsie shudders. Puts the medications into their mouth, and then drinking the cup of water down in one go.