Mallory the Hunted Ch. 1- Escape the Research Lab

The simple act of opening her eyes put quite a strain on Mallory. Her hazel orbs yearned to stay shut, though as soon as she opened them enough to get a look at her surroundings, she didn't allow herself to blink until she had examined the unwelcoming room. Unfortunately, even doing that was a chore thanks to the cold, steel cuff digging into her neck and the bizarre weakness that plagued her body. The same digging feeling in her neck pestered her hands, feet and torso, severely limiting any movement.

Once Mallory's survey of her surroundings was done, she regretted not letting her eyes stay shut. Lights like one would see in an operating room were directly above her, all pointing straight to the cold, black leather operating table she was restrained to. The one blessing she could find from her situation was that the lights weren't turned on, but even that felt like a curse since their blinding glare would've prevented her from seeing far more frightening things. When she looked down at her body as best as her restraints would allow, she saw it was covered by nothing more than a plain white hospital gown. Just above the cuff holding down her left hand was an arm bracelet that had "SUBJECT: F063" written in black bold letters. A blood pressure cuff was just above that, and completing the hospital patient look was a pulse oximeter on her pointer finger. A mere glance at her other hand made her gasp weakly and quickly understand why she felt so weak.

A needle was sticking out of a vein, and connected to the needle was a thin tube, which led to a large, clear bag filled with a red liquid. Mallory needed no time to realize what the liquid was, and she didn't like the sight of the bag looking as though it were ready to burst. Next to the bag was a cart sporting a beeping monitor; in addition to watching her blood pressure and oxygen saturation,  a few wires ran from the monitor, going under her gown and stopping at her chest area; she could feel something there, and she assumed the feeling was her heart being observed. The monitors made her feel like a sick patient, but the tight restraints, combined with a message written on a dry-erase board behind the cart, had her feeling more like a prisoner.

"KEEP SUBJECT WEAKENED UNTIL PREPARATION FOR FURTHER EXAMINATION IS COMPLETE. IF SUBJECT ASKS TOO MANY QUESTIONS OR MAKES ANY ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE, ADMINISTER SEVOFLOURANE UNTIL FULLY SEDATED."

Also on the cart were two long hoses with a black anesthetic mask at the end of them. While Mallory felt woozy due to her lack of blood, she was still aware enough to recognize the danger she was in. She was so busy studying the room that it took her a while to realize she was missing the feeling of her scarlet hair running down her shoulders and back. Deciding she would worry about that later, she tried her hardest to get a train of thought running in her brain and think of a plan. However, doing so opened the door for her to remember how she ended up in her position, something she greatly wanted to forget.

Woah! Where's your reflection, Mallory?

How come she doesn't have one?

Does this mean you're a-

S-Sorry... I've never b-been a fan of m-m-mirrors...

Mallory could vividly remember running out her classroom and taking refuge in a bathroom stall for the remainder of the day. She had hoped rumors of her being a vampire would be the worst consequences of her identity's exposal, a hope that was extinguished only three days later when a wait for the school bus would end up being the last thing she could remember. I swore I heard something in the bushes, she thought remorsefully. If I'd only checked, maybe I could've managed to escape from whoever abducted me.

She had a very foggy memory of being grabbed from behind and having something damp clamped over her nose and mouth. She shuddered upon remembering the overwhelming smell that robbed her of feeling and totally deprived her of consciousness.

They kidnapped me because I'm a vampire. The thought rang through every inch of her mind. It can't be a coincidence. It was only three days after the mirror incident, and why else would whoever's got me be draining my blood? She looked around for a door, but the rest of the room beyond the cart was a blur thanks to her weakened state. I guess I should worry about it after I find a way out of here. She took another look at the dry-erase boar. Further examination? I doubt that'll be good for me in any way. If they're going to drug me just for asking too many questions, I can't let them come in here and do whatever else they have planned.

She thought back to a news report she saw where political figures debated over the treatment of vampires. An older man furiously demanded all vampires be rounded up and given a choice of abstaining from blood-drinking or facing prosecution. His much younger opponent believed in trying to find a benevolent vampire who would be willing to offer himself or herself as a research subject. The purpose of his proposal was to learn of vampires' various weaknesses in order to take a stand against the malevolent ones. The older man mocked his 'pacifistic ways' and insisted his own idea was the one and only way to deal with vampires. In Mallory's mind, she saw the two men tossing their ideas back and forth, each trying to out-argue the other:

"Any and all vampires are a threat that must be dealt with!"

"We cannot generalize all vampires as criminals due to the actions of the few!"

"The actions of the few alone are a threat to mankind!"

"So that means we should prosecute those who aren't a threat for crimes they haven't committed?"

Despite her woozy state, Mallory forced her brain to concentrate on escaping. She looked all around for some sort of miracle that would offer her a chance at freedom, fighting her mental fog to try and devise a plan. Said planning was put on a train going nowhere thanks to the sound of a door opening up. Into the room walked an older, lab coat-clad woman, her slim figure, short black bowl cut and piercing dark blue eyes soon coming into Mallory's fuzzy view, and the sound of clapping heels and rolling wheels accompanying her walk.

"It looks like the boss isn't taking any chances with you," she said with a tone of amusement as she pulled a stretcher close to the table. "I didn't think we would need to extract so much blood." She pointed to the bag. "I must say," she continued smugly after a brief pause, he  eyes shifting to Mallory, "I'm very disappointed in you, darling. I was hoping you would start asking questions such as 'who are you?' or 'where am I?' the moment I walked into the room. I always get a kick out of watching subjects panic and struggle, but I'm going to assume from your silence that you read the message on the board." She snorted with disgust. "Whichever fool left that message in your sights had better hope I don't find them out." She leaned in close to Mallory's face. "Maybe the knowledge that you're on your way to the examination room is the motivation you need to abandon your boring demeanor. I dare not spoil what awaits you there, but I will say this: don't expect it to be a pleasant experience."

Despite Mallory's foggy state and rising fear, her train of thought was able to get back on the right track. The idea she quickly threw together was a reckless one, and it was the fear of failure that caused her to hesitate briefly. If this doesn't work, she thought as the woman curiously stared at her, I'm going to be in even more trouble than I already am. But... she watched the woman's curious expression change to a bored one, it may give me a chance to escape, and it might be the only chance I get!

"Oh come on," the woman said dully. "No questions? No screaming? No struggling?"

Mallory opened her mouth and gave her company just what she wanted. She began with a loud "HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO ME?!" and followed up with a "I NEVER DID ANYTHING TO YOU!", throwing in a "PLEASE LET ME GO!" for good measure. She made sure to thrash her head, arms and legs as much as she could, and her playacting had her company reaching for the anesthetic mask. A twinge of fear made Mallory stop, but she quickly resumed her charade, knowing it was the best and potentially only opportunity to escape she had.

"That's more like it," the woman said, smirking once more. "Unfortunately for you, darling, your resistance has earned you a free trip to dreamland."

With worry and panic trying to throw her off, it was a challenge for Mallory to stay focused and hold her breath just as the mask came over her nose and mouth. The pungent rubber smell irritated her nostrils, and an odd lemon smell came with it. Though both scents were powerful and begging her to inhale as deeply as she could, Mallory stubbornly resisted the anesthetic. That didn't stop her from continuing to thrash about and let out a few weak moans. She wasn't sure how long she needed to start slowing down, so the woman saying "my my, looks like I have a fighter on my hands" was her cue to gradually let up on her thrashing and moaning. By the time she came to a complete stop, the urge to open her mouth and exhale loudly was very tantalizing; the fear of what awaited her in the examination room ensured she didn't give in.

"There we go," the woman said softly, "let the gas carry you away to blissful sleep."

When the mask was pulled away from Mallory's face, she was only just able to suppress a sigh of relief. Her eyes were closed, her body was limp, and her oppressor took the bait, setting the mask back on the cart and undoing Mallory's restraints and monitors one by one. As soon as Mallory felt her head being lifted off of the table, she very slightly opened up one eye to see her captor's head turned the other way. With her lifted body in reaching distance of the mask, she quickly stretched her arm forward and grabbed it, clamping it over the woman's face.

"What?! Why you clever little wench!"

Mallory was thrown hard onto the table, costing her a grip on the mask, which fell onto the floor. Thinking fast, Mallory rolled off the table and hit the floor with a thud, dazed but not ready to give up. She limped her way over to the stretcher, dodging the woman's swinging arms along the way. With all of her limited strength, Mallory pushed the stretcher into the woman, knocking her back and landing her squarely on the table. The woman was unable to get up before the mask was picked up and pushed on her again.

"Do you think getting past me is all you have to do?" She said in a muffled voice, trying to fight Mallory's grip and rise from the table. "I wish you good luck in your escape, because Lady Luck herself will most certainly need to be on your side."

Her struggling soon came to a halt, and Mallory waited a solid three minutes just to make sure her company was truly unconscious. When she saw no movements, she swiped a pair of keys from the woman's coat pocket, assuming the door was locked. She then walked away from the table and headed towards the door, taking the blood bag with her.

As soon as I'm out of this place, she thought, this should be enough blood to totally refresh myself. She stopped in front of the door, her body shaking. If only getting out were as easy as I'm making it sound. She ran a hand over her head, feeling very little hair. And if only staying here wasn't putting me in terrible danger!

That last thought was her driving force to unlock the door and step into a dimly-lit corridor. As she pushed the door shut, she decided to latch it shut to stay on the safe side. A long line of doors stretched down the corridor, each one given a label such as "SUBJECT HOLDING ROOM", "SUPPLY ROOM", and, much to Mallory's horror, "SUBJECT DISPOSAL ROOM". Her frightened pause proved to be a mistake, for the sound of a door slowly opening left her with nowhere to go but the terrifyingly-named room closest to her.

Mallory half-expected the disposal room to be filled with horrific torture devices. Instead, there was only one: a glass cage in the center of the room, in which was a dentist's chair featuring more steel restraints. Connected to the cage was a large hose, which originated from a white canister labeled "CYANIDE".

This could happen to me, Mallory thought, hysteria creeping into her mind. This is probably going to happen to me if I don't get out of here! She heard footsteps from the outside corridor. THIS IS GONNA HAPPEN TO ME IF SOMEBODY COMES IN HERE!

She stumbled over to the other side of the cage, praying nobody would hear her. Just like in the last room, she looked all around for some means of escape, finding a way in the form of an air vent on the rear wall. Though it was too high for her to reach, one look at the tank of cyanide provided a solution. After listening for more footsteps and hearing nothing, Mallory walked over to where the hose was connected to the cage and pulled hard on it. With her body drained, the hose simply wouldn't detach, pushing her to desperately sink her fangs into the blood bag and forsake her plan to hold off drinking until she was free. She stopped once it looked like the bag was half-full, just to air on the side of caution.

I really needed that, she thought, allowing herself to smile. Now, let's get you out of there! She resumed pulling and yanked the hose out of the cage. Mallory walked over to the tank and was very tempted by its weight to drink the rest of the blood. She pushed temptation aside and moved the tank until it came to a stop against the wall. However, a call of "hey, who's in there?!" followed by banging on the door caused her to stumble and fall as she was trying to stand atop the tank. The door opened after her fall, but Mallory didn't bother turning around to see what her unwanted guest looked like.

"You're that vampire girl!" Barked the person in a harsh, gruff tone. "I don't  know how you escaped, but you're going to wish you hadn't!"

The footsteps pounded in Mallory's ears, the image of the glass cage mentally mocking her. I'm not going to die! She thought furiously, balancing herself atop the tank and pulling on the vent cover. The cover came off and Mallory tossed it behind her. A thud and grunt from behind drew a sigh of relief from her, but only a small one. She was planning to save a much longer sigh for when she escaped the facility, and she took a step forward by climbing into the vent and beginning a frantic crawl through the air ducts. Screams of "YOU AREN'T GETTING OUT OF HERE, BITCH!" were bellowed at her, yet she was far more afraid of picking the wrong path in a duct system full of them. Whenever she reached a covered opening, she peeked through the cover and examined the room below. She passed by another holding room, a room full of medical supplies, and much larger room filled with bright lights and lab coat-clad people. They were standing over an exam table, their bodies covering whoever was on it, but not the captive's high-pitched screams.

I-I'm sorry... Mallory thought, turning away from the vent. Even when turned, she could see a bright flash and hear what sounded like crackling electricity. Mallory heard one last desperate scream before getting out of earshot, and all she could do was mentally apologize for being helpless to save whoever was being tortured. Thankfully for her, the next vent she peeked through led the way to no fiendish room, but rather the outside. Upon looking down she could see a lush, green lawn, and unfortunately said lawn had an armed security guard patrolling it.

I can't stop now, she thought boldly. The outside world is right in front of me. I get past this guard and I'll finally be free! At least... she could make out a barbed-wire gate from her position, almost free. Hmm... squinted eyes enabled her to see a pair of jingling keys hanging from the guard's belt. The keys I have might not work on the gate, and if I'm going to get his keys... she tightly squeezed the blood bag, I'll need a distraction.

Though energized, she still wasn't at one-hundred percent. On the other hand, she couldn't think of any other plan other than be captured again, and that was obviously out of the question. Gently, very gently, Mallory used her fangs to widen the holes in the blood bag, then pushed the vent covering open when the guard's back was turned. She ever-so-slowly crawled onto the grass and, with the utmost care to avoid making any sudden sounds, rose to her feet. She had enough time to take one step forward before the guard was about to turn, and she tossed the blood bag at him not a second too soon. The holes were wide enough for blood to come out and soak the guard, putting him in a state of confusion that served as Mallory's one chance to wrestle the gun away from him. Her instincts running wild, she whacked the guard over the head with the gun then rammed the back end into his stomach. One more blow to the head knocked the guard down, and Mallory seized the keys while pointing the gun squarely at the guard's head.

"D-Don't make a move," she said, trying to sound firm, "or I'll s-shoot!"

"Oh yeah?" The guard swiped at the gun, and Mallory backed away just in time. "If you've got the guts, go ahead and shoot."

Mallory walked backwards swiftly, turning her head once to see where the front gate was. When she was close enough for the gate attendant to yell "hey you, stop right there!", she turned around, aimed the gun at him and countered with "don't move or I'll shoot!", praying she wouldn't have to back up her threat. When the attendant reached for a handgun, Mallory was forced to show she was serious; aiming at his hand to the best of her ability, she opened fire and hoped for the best.

"AHHHH! YOU ROTTEN BITCH!"

Mallory closed her eyes when she fired, and upon opening them again she saw her attempt to only injure his hand was successful. Unfortunately, the sight of blood gushing from it called out to her hunger and tried to seduce her with a delectable meal; every inch of determination she had was needed to open up the gate with the guard's keys and pass through without stopping. The attendant yelled at the guard to obtain backup, something Mallory wasn't interested in sticking around for, no matter how delicately the scent of blood tickled her nostrils. She dashed furiously through a parking lot as drops of rain started to descend and dampen her skin. The dreary, overcast sky felt like proof that Lady Luck certainly was on her side, and she couldn't help but let out a relieved laugh once she made it through the parking lot and into a field of grass.

The gentle rainfall didn't last long; Mallory sound found herself being soaked by a substantial downpour, complete with occasional rumbles of thunder. With everything she endured to escape her prison, however, a thunderstorm felt like a mere mosquito bite to her, just a minor annoyance. When it finally felt safe to turn around, she got a good look at the facility she was held in. The three-story gray brick building was longer than it was tall, taking up a large amount of land. A sign near the fence was difficult to read in the rain, but Mallory could just make out the words "RESEARCH CENTER FOR HUMAN ADVANCEMENT (CRESTON BRANCH)" written in bold black letters. Learning that such a ghastly placed claimed to stand for human advancement sickened Mallory, but the sound of a screeching alarm prompted her to stop thinking about the name and resume fleeing.

I can't let them catch me. Her thoughts were traveling far faster than her feet. Who knows what they'll do to me, pr if they'll even let me live? All because I'm a vampire, this had to go and happen. Even if I go back home, they'll probably just try to kidnap me again! Tears were clouding her vision. All because of a stupid mirror... I'm being treated like cattle... people want to hunt me down, lock me up and do who knows what else just because I'm a vampire!

The rain, once a blessing, was now a reflection of her emotions. Her running didn't cease, she didn't look any direction but forward, and the alarm was pushed further and further out of her hearing range until only the sound of falling rain could be heard. That alone wasn't enough to tame her worry, thus she kept up her run even when she was panting, sweating, and wishing she would've sampled some blood from the attendant. Her sprint carried her to a fairly quiet freeway, and it was there that she finally came to a halt and caught her breath. Clutching her chest, she cooked up her latest spur of the moment plan, another one she was willing to try despite the risks coming with it. Stopping right in front of the freeway, praying nobody would grab her from behind, Mallory held up a thumb and hoped for the best.

Terror was overwhelming her, consuming her with an unbearable paranoia. She kept thinking she was hearing footsteps, giving her an urge to turn around that she furiously resisted. The struggle became more strenuous each time, with the fear that she would be captured again growing and growing. While a part of her wanted to give up on hitchhiking after a couple of minutes and keep running, another part knew she needed to travel faster and conserve energy. The run had her bloodlust through the roof to the point where a dark part of her mind entertained the idea of waiting for a car to pull over solely so she could feast. The dark notion had to be suppressed when a tan truck pulled over on the side of the road; an older man rolled the window down and gave Mallory a shocked look, as if he couldn't believe his eyes.

"Are you alright, miss?" He said over a clap of thunder that kept his words from reaching Mallory's ears. When she quickly shook her head to signal her lack of understanding, he looked her up and down for what felt like forever to a girl fleeing from demented scientists. "Did you come from a hospital?" His voice was louder so she could hear him. "If you need a lift I don't mind taking-"

"Butcher's shop!"

The words shot out of Mallory's mouth like cannon balls, fast and loud. Her body was cold and tired, making the vehicle in front of her seem like paradise. When the driver gave her a raised eyebrow, she immediately spat out "I have a relative in Fairfield, and they run a butcher's shop there. It's the direction you're headed in, so if you don't mind giving me a lift I would greatly appreciate it."

It felt the man was X-raying her, though it didn't take long for him to offer her another smile. "If it means gettin' you out of the rain when you barely have any clothes on," he said with a small chuckle, "hop in. I'm headin' to Bloomington, and I don't mind stoppin' at a place that's on the way."

Mallory hopped in swiftly like a rabbit, and soon she was feeling the comfort of a soothing heating system and the knowledge that she was rapidly moving away from her short-lived prison. A man had welcomed her into his vehicle with little hesitation, no rude mannerisms, and a comforting smile.

I guess lying wasn't the best idea, she thought, looking out the rain-covered window. Still, I've had far riskier ideas, and going back to Clarinda isn't a good idea. As much as I hate having to leave my home behind... she lowered her head, I think it's my best option. I just hope Fairfield actually does have a butcher's shop, because I don't know how much hungrier I'll be whenever we get there. If memory serves, Creston is between Clarinda and Fairfield, so I shouldn't have much trouble holding out.

"Somethin' on your mind?" The man asked, stroking his long, gray beard as he put on some country music. "If you feel up to sharin', my ears are open."

Dark thoughts were bugging Mallory again, telling her to reach over and fill her stomach with the driver's blood. To ignore those thoughts, she decided to entertain her host with conversation. "My car broke down," she began, "while I was on my way home from the hospital. I was visiting a relative in Clarinda when I got really bad food poisoning. It was bad enough for the paramedics to come, and I had to spend a few days at the hospital. When I got out, I tried to drive back to Fairfield, but my car broke down." She paused briefly before coming up with a way to extend her fib. "I didn't wanna be stuck out in the middle of nowhere, and I don't have a phone on me, so I tried walking to the nearest town. But then I got too tired and chose to risk hitchhiking."

"Interestin'." The man glanced at her with narrowed, brown, wrinkled eyes. "Any reason you left without a change of clothes?"

"Well..." Mallory put on a poker face to avoid suspicion, "I got a call from my father back home saying he fell down the stairs and broke his ankle, so I kinda rushed out of the hospital as soon as they discharged me. I was in too much of a hurry to change."

She didn't want to hear him respond, not if he was going to see through her lies. There was a silence sans rain hitting the car and windows, a short silence that didn't feel short at all to Mallory. When she saw the man open his mouth, she prepared herself to be called a liar, kicked out of the car, or even taken back to the research facility.

"Everyone does somethin' stupid," he said with a laugh. "With my busted old brain, I've left the house without zippin' my fly too many times to count. You won't believe how many people make fun of me at work, callin' me 'no-fly Norman' and whatnot..."

As the man called Norman rambled, Mallory looked at her non-existent reflection in the rear-view and side-view mirrors. As if I didn't already hate mirrors before what happened in class... she looked away from the mirrors and did her best to show interest in Norman's spiel about his workplace and fading memory. She wasn't really sure how to go about beginning a new life once she got to Fairfield, but her escape of the research facility had her believing she could find a way.

With a new home on the horizon, she thought the facility had become a mere memory. She didn't know how determined the scientists were to experiment on her. She didn't consider the possibility of them sending someone to bring her back.