Redemption

The cries and screams of the Being strapped to the table rang throughout the square Holding Lab.

Once again, Caleb Anderson clamped his hand over its mouth, effectively silencing the wails. Hot, moist breath coated his pale palm, but this was such a normal sensation that he hardly noticed it anymore. With a revealing yawn, he allowed himself to float away from the lab and its multiple steaming lead pipes. Splashes of color coated his grey mind as he thought back to his house, his study, the one place he could truly feel solace. The high keens of the Creature dulled against his oblivious ears and he was glad; in the rush he'd been in that morning, he'd forgotten to bring his ear plugs. This was the first time of the day that he'd managed to tune anything out.

After all, without your covers, it's nearly impossible to think straight.

A sharp pain in his hand shoved him back into the lab. The white walls were spattered with the crimson blood of the subject. Frowning, Caleb looked down to see his own life force running down the soft skin of his palm. In one last feeble attempt of defiance, the Creature must have sunken its broken teeth into the thin dam keeping the water in. Unamused, Caleb slowly shook his head, noting for some odd reason how the Being's long brown hair clung to its sweaty face. Barely managing to contain the sudden feeling of panic coursing through him, he casually ran his uninjured hand through his own midnight crop, testing it for signs of nervousness. If the Forman discovered any evidence of unease, he would be sent back to the Breeding Lab and God help the poor victims who were stuck there.

Finding no trace of sweat, Caleb tightened his surgical mask and directed his attention to his colleague, Brice Simmons. A burly man of about forty years of age, Brice was the head of the Holding Lab and the one person Caleb despised more than himself. A cold, brown stare was the signature mark of the older man, whose eyes could easily freeze a person's soul. These emotionless orbs were fixed on the Creature's naked body, specifically between its legs. Large metal restraints covered the more graphic parts, including the area that was stained with blood. A cold, sadistic smile slowly creeped on to Simmons' face and Caleb felt a knot twisting in his stomach.

He knew that look. Lord did he ever.

"Anderson," Simmons addressed and Caleb stood at attention. "Get me a scalpel. It appears to be a breach."

The knot pulsed inside of him, threatening to make everything he'd eaten that day surface. He visibly swallowed and crossed the room to the cabinets, hands shaking slightly as he pulled one open. He grabbed a scalpel and a few syringes filled with a clear liquid and reluctantly handed them to his boss.

"Not the morphine, you idiot!" He hissed and slapped the syringes to the floor. "We're already low on money and are not about to waste any of the funds we don't have!"

"But sir!" Caleb began to protest, but was immediately cut off by an angry bark.

"Do you want this company to go bankrupt son? Well? Didn't think so. Now put the damn morphine back!"

Without even bothering to see if Caleb did as he was told, Simmons plunged the scalpel into the Creature's abdomen, dragging it to the left to make a long, deep incision that stretched from one side to the other. The Creature arched its back and screamed, the metal restraints efficiently keeping it from thrashing about. Caleb flinched and made a mad dash for the morphine, the knot in his stomach seeming to burst through his flesh. He grabbed a needle and rushed to the Creature's side, completely ignoring Simmons' exclamations of protest. He jammed the syringe into its arm and immediately felt a sharp, prominent sting of white hot pain on his cheek. He cried out and dropped to floor, hand flying up to the smoldering burn on his face. He looked up at Simmons, astonished beyond belief and was terrified further by the crazed glee in the man's eyes.

He was gone. Simmons had lost his grip, as they all would some day. He pulled the thing out of the creature's stomach and practically threw it at Caleb, who barely had the time to catch it before it splattered to the ground.

"Female," Simmons said in disgust. "Must have missed it in the ultrasound."

Caleb frowned and peered down at the tiny squirming mass in his arms. Large, innocent blue eyes blinked up at him and he found himself almost smiling.

"Well what're you waiting for, you worthless trash?" Simmons wiped off his hands as he spoke and walked out the door, calling his last statement over his shoulder. "Throw the thing in the garbage."

Caleb once again looked down and felt his heart clench. Those eyes... they weren't ready for this world and they never would be. He glanced around at the now empty room and pulled his knees higher up on his body, forming a small cradle for the being. He wiped away the red, sticky liquid that was attached to its skin and wrapped a blanket around its tiny form.

He couldn't do it. All the months he'd worked in the Holding Lab flew out of his mind and he slowly rose to his feet. The creature on the table watched him with frightened, exhausted eyes and as Caleb walked by, it barely mustered up the strength to speak.

"Please," it whispered. "You can't... You have to save her. Save my baby. You're... you're not like the others. You feel remorse, I can see it. Remember what he did to you today. He hurt you, mister, just like he hurt me. Don't let him control you anymore..."

The only thing Caleb could do was nod his head and ask the question that was burning in his mind.

"What's your name?" He softly inquired and the creature smiled.

"Angelica," she whispered as the light faded from her eyes. "My name is Angelica."

He didn't hear the heart monitor utter its continuous sentence, couldn't bring himself to look at it. The being, the baby, he mentally corrected, seemed to sense the shift in the atmosphere and began to wail. Caleb jumped and quickly went about rocking it how he'd been shown in the training videos (of course, all babies in those recordings were pure bred males). The crying did not cease and Caleb could hear footsteps out in the hallway, signaling Simmons' return, for he and Caleb were currently the only two people who were authorized to access the Lab Floor, except for the Forman.

Moving quickly, he tore a small hole in the blanket with his thumb nail so that the baby would be able to breathe once he covered her face with the soft material.

"Shh, shh, sweetheart, you need to be quiet," he hissed in a sharp whisper as the footsteps grew and volume and, subsequently, proximity. "We're going to be with a very bad man and he does not like the sound of crying."

There was no response and Caleb's stomach dropped as if he'd actually been expecting one.

"I'll get you out of here... I promise."

Just as he gently covered her head with the blanket, Simmons walked in. He regarded the bundle in Caleb's arms with little surprise as he walked over to one of the filing cabinets.

"Why is that still here?" He asked and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. "Thought I told you to..."

"The trash cans are full," Caleb muttered as he tried to escape. "I need to go to the ones outside."

"And the blanket?"

"We wasted the last of the paper towels on the incisions."

He could see that Simmons was skeptical, so he dropped his demanding gaze and pushed his way out of the Holding Lab. The walk to the elevator seemed longer than he remembered and the weight in his arms nearly pulled him to the floor. He adjusted his grip on the bundle that had finally stopped sobbing and gingerly pressed a hand to the throbbing burn on his face. He wouldn't forget what happened to him that day, what Simmons did.

Not for as long as he lived.