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Inside Out
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The gray t-shirt clung to her body. Other than the poor stitching from it being worn down by age, sweat was what kept it from falling off. The old, scratchy collar rubbed against her neck, but she ignored it. Forcing her stretched and pained muscles, the girl pushed herself to carry on. She had to continue running, even though every breath she drew was like a slash upon her throat; the girl was determined to get out. Fresh beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Not helping but thinking that if she were to slip and slice herself open, she only thought of instead of a hideous mess of red on the walls would be the who knows what color of adrenaline. The thought of such a thing caused her to only want to slow down. The thought of blood sickened her.

She was then reminded of the horrible fate that awaited her if she slowed down.

Running even faster, she turned a corner and was now running down a dark hallway. No light bounced off the cold walls; not like it would have mattered, though, because there was very little light in the surrounding rooms. The only thing bouncing off the walls were her fast, horrified footsteps and painful gasps for air. Turning another corner, this one rather sharply, she almost slipped, causing her to let out a small shriek.

It echoed, bouncing off the walls, slowly melting into a soft, taunting laugh.

She cursed silently. Her heart was thumping so loudly now that she was amazed she didn’t hear it echoing in the cavernous hall. Still running, feet still slamming down onto the hall, lungs still screaming for air, and muscles still dying for a rest, the adrenaline still poured into her veins. She squinted, her watery-gray eyes making out the faint outline of a rectangle. It was the only door and she prayed with all her heart that it would open and not lead her to the one she was fleeing from.

Her stomach was beginning to ache. It felt like a burning pit and the only thing she could offer it was what little spit she swallowed, her throat like splintering wood. A pain seized her side. A grunt of pain leapt from her. She wanted to clutch it and make it better but that would slow her down. Dark tendrils began to creep into the edges of her vision. She was running out of energy, the flow of adrenaline was slowly reverting to a trickle. Her brain was screaming at the body to keep going, but the body refused to listen now. It knew when it was beat.

Just a little closer…

Her legs were like lead. She forced her left leg up and the right one down. Right up, left down, right up, left down. Each movement was a strain; her thready muscles threatening to tear. The door was only a few feet away now, she could even make out the metal handle. Knowing that almost of her strength was sweated out, she threw herself at the door. Calling on the last reserves of her adrenaline, she wrenched open the door to see a room that looked very much like a science classroom. Rows of tables that would seat two each, a blackboard, sinks, and a large tube filled with a blue liquid, which seemed to be what was filling the room with light.

She stumbled forward, shutting the heavy door behind her, her hand filled with too much fear to let go. It was only when the noise of the door shutting caused her to jump and let go. Taking another drunken step forward, she almost fell onto the counter. Her vision was beginning to clear. Her hair was plastered to her face. She didn’t have the energy to peel it off of her hot cheeks. She staggered a few more steps to then sink to the floor, her body finally giving up and her brain finally listening to it and giving it its final rest.

Gasping for air, no longer running, her lungs happily took the air, still in pain and in danger of hitting a rib, but she didn’t care now. It was over. The moment that hopeless thought hit her mind, she began to shake and her vision blurred. Tears began to spill from her eyes, rolling down her face and onto the metallic floor. Her body began to shake as sorrow and despair took over. She sobbed, she was victim number seven. She was going to die and it would be slowly and painfully. She knew this because of the other six previous victims.

This only caused her to cry harder.

Not for her, but for those six people.

She had known some of them. Clarissa Baker. She was so pretty. Clarissa had always had the most gorgeous hair; blonde, smooth, never a split end. Her eyes were the purest of green and her skin was always clear; she never needed make-up. She always had a smile on her face and was always surrounded by people. Then she went missing. She had been found a few days later. The memory of it caused the poor girl to sob harder. She was hardly recognizable, but that was rather obvious for when somebody was turned inside out. Even though Clarissa had been cruel to her many times, she still sobbed for Clarissa, victim number three, and believed that nobody deserved such a hideous fate.

Then there was Richard Smith. He was a very handsome young man, one she had a crush on. Victim number two, brilliantly intelligent, even a man to rival Clarissa’s boyfriend. She, victim number seven, had once approached him, asking him for some help on her homework in hopes of not only spending some time with him, but also to pass her physics test. He rudely rejected her saying he had no time for stupid filth like her.

Even though such people had abused her with their words and a few others, she still believed with every fiber that not one soul should have gone through what they did and what she was about to experience. Curling up, her heart shook with the thoughts of the other victims she had never known and their family and friends. She had few friends and lived in foster care, so why she had been taken was a mystery. Maybe it was just for the sadistic thief’s nature or because she was jut there and out in the open, walking home from volunteer work.

Either way, she was here, and just waiting for the end, hoping to be the last victim. “I’m just as lucky as can be; victim number seven! So very lucky!” Her voice cracking from tears but still able to put out some rare sarcasm.

She didn’t hear the door silently open but she felt a cold, strong hand wrap around her arm. “Found you, Natalie Absolon!”

A scream tore through her throat.

He laughed. It was a shame he was so cruel for he was a man smarter and more beautiful than his second victim had been. Was this what he wanted to do?  Exterminate all the beautiful people too? Natalie was at a further loss for why it was her he kidnapped. “C’mon,” he said yanking her up.

She yelped. Her body had been holding out on her, apparently, because a new wave of adrenaline washed over her. She thrashed around, clawing, screaming, and biting. She must have made at least a few connections because she heard a grunt or two of pain. He then grabbed her by the hair and yanked. Another yelp of pain escaped her. “Stop fussing,” he said, his voice anything but cruel, “You’ll be different, Natalie Absolon!”

This only caused her to thrash about more. Of course she would be different! You don’t get thrown into a tube with mysterious gasses pouring into it and come out the same. He dragged her to the other side of the room and opened another door. She was still thrashing, no longer carrying about her hair, which he didn’t count on it seemed. A ripping noise was heard and Natalie felt pain explode on the bottom left of her scalp. Her kidnapper’s eyes widened as he looked at the handful of split-ended hair. Like he could make her look any more hideous as he did to victims one through six.

She was going to try to fight back now that she was face-to-face with this man. Her pain filled arm pulled back for a punch but it seemed that the spurt of adrenaline wasn’t enough. The kidnapper’s arm shot out and grabbed her by the neck, applying enough pressure to slow the passage of air to her panicking brain. “Calm yourself, Natalie Absolon!” He yelled, his sepia eyes widening. He began to drag her with much ease down another hall through a door she had not seen. “You will be different,” he said again, “You will emerge as something completely different, Natalie Absolon.”

Natalie let out choking noises, hoping that he would loosen his grip and give her a chance to escape (as pointless as that would be for her) or at the very least demand why he ended almost every sentence with her name. All her choking noises did for her was cause him to just barely loosen his grip, for he feared he might suffocate her.

They reached the end of the hall. He reached out to open another door and Natalie couldn’t help but feel slightly sickened that he was still clutching her hair. He threw open the door and Natalie let out a strangled cry when she saw the many tubes and tables and experimental tools about the monochromatic room. The handsome-evil looked around before a smile came onto his face. Since his fingers had been wrapped around her neck, cutting off enough air to disable movements requiring plans, her tongue felt thick and vision was becoming a thing of wishful thoughts. Natalie staggered after him as he opened something up. She couldn’t see what it was due to her vision but she didn’t need to see what it was when he threw her in. She painfully hit the glass. Her sight started to fix itself just as his laughter filled the room. He shut the door and locked it before running a few feet away to a computer.

Fresh blood rushed to Natalie’s brain and sharp smells of chemicals alerted her. She looked up. Small holes were at the top of the tube she was in. She screamed when she saw the thick, pearly white smoke pour in.

The young madman only heard the sounds of change.

~*~*~*~

She stirred. Her whole body was filled with a vague ache. Her fingers twitched and she heard something crinkle. It was paper, the kind the doctors made you lay on when they wanted to examine you.

She sat up and looked around. The room was rather messy. A giant picture in its frame with its back to her rested against the wall. Books on their shelves lay open or had fallen over, very few standing up straight. A globe by the door rested on a chipped table and she could see papers with notes and other things written on them littered about the place. The hardwood floors looked worn and its brown color was faded, much like the walls. Light came in from a window, causing her to believe it to be somewhere in the morning.

Sitting up and rubbing her arms, she jumped. Her skin was never this soft. Her chest felt tight and almost choked. She looked down. Nothing looked different than a few hours ago, so why did it feel like her shirt was just a little too small? It took her a moment.

She was sitting up perfectly straight.

Slowly feeling her face, her nose felt smaller and her skin perfectly smooth. Cautiously, she ran a hand through her hair. The bald spot that should have been there was gone. Not only that, her hair felt healthy, silken, and full. Her heartbeat began to pick up a few paces when she heard a knock on the door. She yelped.

“Ah!” The man let out a pleasantly surprised cry. “So you are up! I hope you don’t mind if I come in,” the knob turned and in came the handsome man.

She screamed and recoiled back, brining her legs in from over the edge of the table and scooting back as far as possible to only bump into the wall.

“Nonono!” He held his hands up, a rather scared look on his face. “I’m not going to do anything,” he said turning his hands to show her he had nothing in them.

Her clear gray eyes narrowed suspiciously.

He coughed with some embarrassment, “I always have a reason to my madness.” He walked towards the giant framed picture that had its back to her.  With some difficulty he lifted it up. Regardless of her kind heart, she didn’t make a move to help him. He knew this and didn’t mind. Staggering and stepping backwards, he turned around to reveal it was a giant mirror he held.

A surprised girl stared back at her but she couldn’t recognize her. Her luscious black hair hung down, wavy and clean. Her eyes large and crystal-like. Skin perfectly clean and soft. Not only that, this girl stood up straight as if she meant business. Her gray shirt fit her body nicely, not shapelessly as it had on the girl who slouched in it.

He had a warm smile on his face. “Just wanting to show you and the world that there are some who are gorgeous on the outside but cruel and rotting inside. Then there are those, like you, who are beautiful inside but not so appealing outside. So, world, I would like you to meet one who is beautiful from the inside out. Natalie Absolon.”

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End
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