cookies and tea

Anthony was led through the long, seemingly endless halls. Every few minutes, identical iron doors appeared, creating an unsettling atmosphere. All the doors were locked except for one, and as Anthony passed it, he understood why.

A corpse lay on the floor—a little boy around nine years old. His blond hair was overgrown and messy, but his hands were the most disturbing part. Anthony looked away, noticing something missing from the boy's hands and fresh blood pouring out. He had an idea of what had happened. The boy was emaciated, his mouth bloody, but Anthony chose not to dwell on it. Maybe it wasn’t even the boy—perhaps it was something else.

Suddenly, two men threw Anthony to the ground and clamped something cold and scratchy against his neck. It felt like leather, but a small blue light emanated from its center. Despite the discomfort, he was dragged into a room before he could protest.

The room looked familiar yet different. Inside were several operating tables and beakers filled with various chemicals. A few cages held different creatures, though it was hard to tell what they originally were. The large table that used to be in the center was now at the back, and a new clock, which looked like a drawing, hung on the wall, ticking away and reading 2:30.

"Dr. Rain, are you in here?" he called out with little concern. He knew she hated noise, but they had gotten along quite well before, even if he disliked her.

Before he realized it, he had walked to the large built-in bookshelf. Despite the many books, most were dull in color and either about biology or chemistry. He reached for a rather new book with a light brown cover. Just as his fingertips touched the spine, he heard footsteps.

Someone cleared their throat—a scratchy sound he recognized as Dr. Rain’s. She always sounded like that in her lab, as if sandpaper were stuck in her throat.

"Evening, Dr. Rain. Mind if I borrow your book for a while?" His voice was half-joking, but he hoped she would say yes. She liked him enough to keep him alive, so what harm could it do to lend him a book?

She remained silent but playful, running her hand through her ink-black hair, which was shoulder-length and didn’t need tidying. Her blue eyes were like the sky, and a mole under her right eye stood out, as did the bandages around her neck.

Anthony pulled the book out before she could say anything, and she just left him. Instead, she moved to a corner of the room with a different atmosphere—a circular blue rug with two comfortable white armchairs facing a coffee table. It was much more comfortable than the rest of the room, which made him uneasy.

She took off her lab coat, revealing a black dress that reached just above her knees. It hugged her form but kept everything but her arms hidden. She signaled for him to move closer, then took a seat in one of the chairs, expecting him to do the same.

He did so but felt her eyes studying him, observing him like a wild animal. She had control of the situation but chose not to force it on him. She had when he was younger, but that had changed one day.

"So, do you like my little gift, Owly?" Her voice was honeyed, her head resting comfortably on the chair's back.

Anthony tolerated the nickname as if it were his true name. From her, it felt respectable, but from anyone else, it was insulting. He looked at her confused, then it hit him. His hand moved to fiddle with the collar or choker around his neck. Curiosity took over.

"Yes, I noticed. What is it for? Did I do something wrong again?" he asked, half-annoyed, as the idea of him stealing medicine was on everyone's minds. He didn’t, but who would trust a prisoner?

She smiled and shook her head. Despite taking off her coat, she reached into its pocket and pulled out a packet of tiny cookies. Each one was a different color and possibly a different flavor. "No, Owlie, I know you wouldn't steal medicine. If you did, I would know." She opened the packet and ate a red cookie before offering him a blue one. "And as for my gift, it’s a tracker. I’ve been working on something that you might like."

Anthony declined the cookie. Despite knowing he hadn't eaten since the previous night, he knew she couldn’t be trusted. She was evil in his eyes, and nothing she could offer would change that.

"Really, Dr. Rain? What could a tracker be needed for if I’m always here?" he asked while pulling the book against his chest. He didn’t want to get his hopes up but didn’t trust her.

She laughed and dropped the blue cookie on the table before moving to eat a green one. Was something wrong with the blue cookie?

"Don't worry about it too much. The commander wanted us to force you and the others to participate in the war, but I had a better solution. One that is far more... interesting."

Her smile unsettled him, but he chose to hide his discomfort by reading the book's title instead. "Mysteries of the Mind," he read aloud, finding the irony funny. He kept his eyes on the book. "Mind sharing this plan of yours, Dr. Rain?"

She laughed heartily, as if he had told her the best joke of her life. After a full minute, she exaggeratedly wiped a fake tear from her eye. "Patience, Owlie. I still have a coffee date to get to. Changing the law takes time right? Besides I like to suprise people ,don't I?"

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