There's a very particular emotion you feel when you get stripped away from where you're comfortable. I've pretty much lived in one place my entire life. My safe zone.

It was the clichéd, old-fashioned house with a garden of rosebushes and apple trees, but there comes a point when the trees fall down, and home just isn't what it used to be.

That wasn't what mattered anyway.

What made the place so special was the people who lived inside it. The people who promised me that they'd never leave.

So what happens when you get stripped away from your safe zone? Let me fill you in. Suddenly you're placed in cold-hearted unknown and you're expected to function in a place that you know nothing about.

Waking up was the hardest part.

It was so dark, and I couldn't see much. There was a strong light shining directly into my eyes. The air was too thin and the world was too different.

What's happening to me?

That's when I knew, without a doubt, that there was no going back.

It took a while before I was actually able to move. I couldn't understand why it was so hard. My brain was screaming at my body to get up, but it wasn't listening.

When my eyes finally adjusted, I soon became aware of the shadows hovering above me. The eyes watched me like I was a high school science experiment. There was no stopping them.

"She's gaining consciousness," A dark silhouette announced.

I felt a sharp jolt of pain (which I later realized was a needle sticking into me). All I could do was flinch. I couldn't even let out a whimper since my voice wasn't working either. I admit, a tear did stray onto my cheek, not only from the pain, but from the sheer shock of the situation.

In truth, I had never felt so desperately alone until that moment. It reminded me of the nightmares that I used to have repeatedly as a little girl. The same every night.

I would walk through the passageway of my home, with the cruel sensation that I was alone. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't speak or call out to anyone for help. No matter how much I opened my mouth, I had no voice...

Chills ran through my spine, from both the cold draft escaping through the thin sheets onto my skin, and the simple memory of a dream.

What if this wasn't just a dream? I thought. What if I was living through a nightmare?

They waited for me to regain movement before they started wheeling my bed to another venue. It was a slow process, but eventually my fingers started to twitch and after what seemed like hours later, my arms and legs were bending and shifting.

I was so afraid that I had been in some kind of accident and I was paralysed. I was in those terrible plastic hospital robes. You must know them; the gowns that cover nothing but the basic private areas and are held together by a feeble ribbon at your back.

I felt so... violated.

But if I really was in a hospital; where are my parents? They wouldn't just leave me alone. I couldn't even muster up the words to ask what was going on.

I had no voice.

I was oblivious to where they were taking me, and blinded from the bright-lighted room that we had moved into.

I waited impatiently.

We ventured from corridor to corridor with no explanation and no sympathy. Suddenly I felt the sensation of falling and I realised that we were in some kind of elevator .

Finally, it stopped and two shadows grabbed me by the arms and legs. I tried to struggle but it was pathetic and before I knew it, I was tossed onto the hard ground like an animal.

It was the most painful thing that I'd experienced in my entire life.
The cold breeze easily pushed its way through my gown and I shivered in response. At first, I tried to get up, but soon I realized that I was alone again and I really just didn't see the point.

The room was similar to my perception of a dungeon in those period films; dark and empty.

The kind of places that the prisoners would be tortured in.

I could feel the dirt of the damp floor that hadn't been cleaned in years. Rats roamed around it comfortably, acting as my only companions.

A shadow on the other side of the room, looked like a corpse lying motionless on it's side. I managed to convince myself that it was just a combination of shadows forming in the darkness and paranoia.

The most agonising part was the leak in the low roof, that barely extended high enough for me to stand properly.

The slash of the water seemed to become louder and louder by the second.

Drip, drip, drip-

That's when I heard a rustle from behind.

Maybe that shadow, hadn't been a shadow after all...

At first I remained still, by convincing myself that it was my imagination. Then I heard it again. My immediate reaction was to open my mouth, to ask who was there.

All that came out was a weird vowel sound.

"You don't have to be afraid." A male voice called out in the darkness. An eerie laugh of a lunatic soon followed in the silence. "Not of me anyway."

His accent was different to mine. I couldn't decipher it. It sounded like a combination of things, but it was definitely foreign.

So what?
I'd woken up in a foreign country? None of this made any sense.

I heard footsteps as he made his way closer to me and I finally was able to get a good look at him.

He had wild red hair falling in all sorts of directions, and freckles concealing most of his face and arms. His clothes were too big for him and hung off his body in rips and shreds. On his face were two prominent scars. But what really caught my attention were his eyes. They shone a fiery golden-yellow colour in the darkness.

The eyes of a wild animal.

My head caved in and dropped to the direction of the ground.

I felt his cold hands touch my shoulders. For some reason, I wasn't afraid while he lifted me up and held me into a sitting position, against the wall.

He proceeded to kneel down in front of me and observe curiously.

"Did they give you any water?"

I shook my head.

He cackled again like hyena and I tried to conceal the startled expression on my face.

"They never do," he said.

I watched, paralysed, as he got up and turned towards the elevator doors.
Before I knew it, he was banging his arm against them, like a maniac.

"Hello!" He shouted. "Your next victim needs some water! Or would you like her to die of dehydration before you can get what you want out of her?"

"V...victim?" I mumbled feebly.

He paused on his exposition and turned back around to look at me.

"In a manner of speaking, yes. Do you not feel as if you are a victim? Or would you prefer the word," he turned back to the door, "PRISONER!"

"I-"

"You don't understand?" He butted in. "I don't suppose you would. You were one of the earlier cases. I have an eye for these things.".

"I can finish my own ss..s...sentences." My scratchy voice retorted. Although my stutter didn't really help prove my point.

I noticed his eyes glow again and he smiled to himself. Then he turned back to the door and banged on it again.

I was so frustrated. I looked so weak and pathetic. That wasn't me. All I really wanted to do was punch something. In fact, I was envious of this guy's fight with the door, (weird as it may be).

After about five minutes of this insanity, he span back around to me.

"I'm sorry, I've been completely rude. I haven't told you my name. I'm Malvin."

He hunched back down again and held out his hand to shake. When I failed to return the gesture, he retracted his hand and frowned.

"You really are a weak one, aren't you? When are you from?"

"When?" My voice was rickety.

"I recognize the accent. You're South African. Am I correct?"

I nodded and he sat down beside me.

"So 'when' is my question, because I have a feeling, "when" is not when you think." His words were followed by a monstrous giggle.

"You're... crazy." I huffed.

"I suppose I am." That seemed to amuse him even more. "Have you ever heard of cryonics?"

I stared blankly.

"It is considered the preservation process of dead bodies in cold temperatures, in order to harvest the terminally ill for future technologies."

He paused and then repeated the word, "terminally ill" before laughing to himself.

He obviously was a nutcase, but he did have a sophisticated way about him. It was weirdly compelling. He continued speaking and I tried my best to focus on his gibberish.

"At the time, you could only do it on patients who were considered 'legally dead' but of course, they found a way around that. There's always a way."

"I have no idea what you're saying." My voice came out a husky whisper. "I'm an art student."

He grinned.

How was any of this possible? Everything had felt so normal a second ago. All I wanted to do was call my mom. I wanted to ask her for help. To give her a hug and never let go. But something sickening told me, that nobody was going to help me through this journey. I was all alone.

I swallowed and I felt the pain from the dry sensation in my throat. Mr Crazy had continued to launch into the rest of his ridiculous speech, and I'd missed half of it because I'd been so wrapped up in my thoughts. I quickly tuned back in.

"There were several issues concerning the process at the time. How do they preserve the tissue? Would the process affect brain activity? But your kidnappers don't really care about ethics."

"You're not making sense!" I pushed past the pain in my throat. Now was not the time for silence, and Mr Crazy was trying my patience.

"I resent that, I think I'm making perfect sense. Have you been listening? Perhaps I should start again-"

"Just shut up! I need a second to think." I let out a deep sigh in frustration. My heavy breathing quickly turned into a mini-panic attack. I used to get these a lot in school. According my educators (and peers), I was a very 'uptight' individual.

"Are you quite alright?"

I ignored him, taking the time to clear my thoughts, and steady my breathing. I need to play this guy, like he was playing me. I needed to show him that I wasn't easily intimidated.

Eventually, I looked the creature in the eye.

"You're one of those double agents, aren't you? I watch TV. You're sent in here to make friends with me to get information. Well, guess what? I don't buy it." I tried to sound as harsh as possible.

Unfortunately, he didn't seem threatened by me at all. He just looked genuinely shocked.

"You think I'm a spy? That's an interesting theory."

He looked like he was would have gladly continued on his endless rant, but the door opened.

A man with a huge scowl on his face, entered the room, carrying a glass of water. In contrast to Malvin, he was well groomed and dressed in elegant black attire, which worked well with his dark features. He was older than the both of us, (maybe late-forties). But it was possible that he had just aged badly because wrinkles plagued his face, along with large frown lines.

I read somewhere that the sun give you wrinkles.

See how important it is to put on sunscreen?

"Well you're only fifteen minutes late." Malvin stood up to face him."Obviously you're not familiar with quick service."

"I don't take orders from you, beast." The man spat at Malvin, and his saliva got Malvin right in the eye.

"Then why is there a glass of water in your hands?" Malvin casually wiped the goo off his face.

The man glared again and then walked over abruptly to where I was sitting. He placed the water on the ground beside me and made sure it was far enough away to be out of my reach. He also left a bundle of grey clothes similar to the ones Malvin was wearing.

I obviously wasn't strong enough to put them on, but I was grateful that they were there, this skimpy robe was making me incredibly uncomfortable.

Once he was gone, Malvin came to my aid and carefully placed the cup of water in my hands.

"Drink. It'll help the pain in your throat. I have a lot of questions to ask and talking will be necessary."

I watched him for a moment before forcing my hand to painfully reach my mouth. The water felt like the cure to all my problems and I gulped it down violently. When it was finished, I licked my lips and forced myself to open my eyes.

"Listen," I began, "I don't understand why the hell I'm here, but I want to get out. Now."

He gave me a funny look.

"The first cryonics patient to be successfully revived was in 2430, fourteen years ago, by a company called L.F.L (Lost Future Labs). They had been freezing live test subjects illegally. You are the third subject to be successfully resuscitated."

The logical side of me knew that the paranoid words of a madman simply weren't worth even listening to. Maybe he had been a prisoner for so long that he'd just...cracked. His theory was that I'd gone to sleep and woken up 300 years later in another country? That was just ridiculous.

But deep down, the nonsensical artist in me, sent an uneasy feeling to my gut.
Where were my parents? They would be here for me, no matter what. Unless... unless we were three hundred years in the future and they were...dead. I flinched at the thought. Were my parents dead?

"That process you're talking about; wasn't it just for rich people dying of cancer? I'm just some kid."

"As I highlighted in the previous conversation; the entire process was illegally instigated. They were looking for certain people to experiment on and you fit the criteria."

"So what makes me so special?"

He frowned. "When are you from?"

I rolled my eyes in frustration. This question again.

Why not humour the crazy?

"2025."

Malvin's jaw dropped. "Was that when you were born, or the last year you remember?"

"I was born in 2007."

"You're the oldest so far." He nodded.
"You can't know much about the project."

My brain was malfunctioning. All I wanted to do was crawl up into a little ball and cry. How could I have woken up in a world that I didn't know? This guy was right; I was probably being used as a government experiment. They were probably doing testing or something.

The saddest part was, the only person I had for comfort, was Crazy over there.

Tears blurred my vision and my bottom lip began to shake. I didn't deserve any of this. I mean, I wasn't a particularly nice person, but I didn't deserve to be punished. Suddenly I began to feel anger boil up inside of me. I clenched my weak fists.

"I don't know anything about the project!" I tried to get up, but only ended up collapsing. "I have no idea what the hell's going on! The last thing I remember, I was in school, and I was waiting in some line to get tested for a virus."

"It was no virus." He said in annoying, "I-know-everything" kind of way.

"Well then what the hell were they testing me for?" My voice came out like a growl. Suddenly I was the one in the room resembling the animal. I couldn't help it. I was so angry.

Malvin stared at me for a long time. Eventually, he sighed and sat down next to me, leaning against the wall. For the first time since I met him, he revealed something that resembled sanity.

"Pacem, you and I are special. No matter what they tell you, we are not the animal that they think we are. We're just better and stronger and that scares the hell out of them."

I shook my head. "I don't understand-"

"You will, Miss Creed." He said vaguely. "You will."

I swallowed and stared into the darkness of the room.

He had to have the wrong person.

I mean, I was definitely special but in the normal sense. I could paint. I was an A student. I never broke the rules. I mean, the one time in fourth grade I copied off someones test, but I was pretty subtle about it.

Why would they want me?

"Listen to me, Pacem." He was developing a habit of interrupting my thoughts. "In about an hour, they are going to come back in here to run some more tests. They'll take you to the fitness regime and psychological training. Do your best in fitness. The quicker you regain your strength, the quicker we can break out of here."

"You know how to break out?"

"Of course I do. But I have no intention of doing it alone. That would just be boring."

And that's when I realized how screwed I really was.

What makes Pacem and Malvin so special?

(Besides Malvin's crazy side of course)

And why are Malvin eye's glowing???