I’m hearing another helicopter landing, I guess it’s already day 10. My name is Mary, but I don’t remember my age, my hometown, or the name of my favorite movie.
In fact, Mary is not my real name, I think, but I like it and it still makes me feel human. I don’t think anyone will really read this, but for now, it’s the only thing that makes me think that the things I’m seeing are real and not the delusions of a broken mind trying to rationalize the impossible.
They keep me in a small metal cage where I can barely move a few feet. The bars are reinforced and their size makes me think that their original intention was to retain something capable of breaking a normal one. Even though this is not the case with me, somehow my body feels strong, athletic, as if those injections they give me every day would give me energy.
I might have lived through all kinds of tortures, but at least l was not alone. Every 10 days a helicopter arrives, crewed by up to four girls like me. When they get off, they usually seem to be lost, as if a program that they confused with their instincts had forced them to drive here. You might ask yourself, how do I know all this? I would like to tell you that I escaped and read some kind of secret file, but that would be a lie. The truth is that our captors take us to see this event every time it happens, what worries me is that they don’t do it to make fun of us, but to study our reaction.
One would think that the kidnapping, the amnesia, the constant psychological abuse, and the fact that they inject me with things I don’t know about 5 times a day would be the worst of my worries, but there is something else. There is a monster next to me. More than a week ago it used to be a human and I even called her “friend”, but from the first day she came, she had a special treatment that I never envied.
Due to her response, the injections she received were accompanied by pain that ran through her entire body and lasted for hours. After a few days, her personality became much more aggressive, insulting me at every moment and trying to desperately reach out to my cage a few meters away from hers. My companion seemed to be unable to sleep, while her cries of anger were only replaced by cries of pain, which appeared at shorter and shorter intervals. Until one day, silence reigned in the room and when I woke up, her cage was empty.
For several days I felt guilty about feeling at peace with the departure of that person I used to consider a friend, but that feeling did not last long. A few days later, her cage appeared again next to mine, but much closer and inhabited by a guest who, although I recognized her, was no longer human.
First, her eyes were almost covered by dark skin that seemed to progress to her mouth. Her gums were full of blood, but not from anyone else, but her own changing jaw. Her naked body looked scaly and several extremities that looked like claws seemed to be trying to get out of her back, tearing the skin that could no longer contain them.
As she detected me and desperately jumped out of her cage to attack me, I could see how she had lost her ability to stand and had traded it in for terrifying agility. All this in the sight of several scientists, who looked at us as university students gathering information for some kind of sick homework. Although I was not within reach of the monster, the fact that only a few centimeters separated us seemed to alter it more and more, where I could see in its small human features a hateful gaze towards me for not being within the reach of its teeth.
At the same time, a new problem arose. In the last few minutes, I began to smell a strange aroma and my body felt weaker and weaker. I can see how my companions from other cages are suddenly collapsing and even the monster is trying to reach me with less intensity, I feel that I am falling asleep, so I am going to hide my book again and hope that this is not the last time I will write in it.
My name is Jane, but I don’t remember my age, my hometown, or the name of my favorite movie. In fact, Jane is not my real name, I think, but I like it. I woke up a few hours ago in a prison cell with this blank book and a pencil. The cell door just opened automatically and I’m planning my escape with the other prisoners. I don’t know how we know this and I don’t care, but we are all sure that there is a helicopter somewhere.
There are no guards or anyone else holding us, but we can hear a kind of four-legged beast desperately running around this place. From its violent bumps and grunts, I can assume it is hostile, but I don’t care. All I know is that I’m going to get out of here alive.