Chapter 6: Phantom Bride
Agent 36, wake up.
She stirred, the piercing sound of a siren formerly lost in a medicated sleep now enough of a problem to make her curl further into herself to escape it. Her hands over her ears did nothing to ease the volume.
The sound was so permeating that her teeth ached, and she could feel the vibrations of it in her head and over her skin as she stared down at the twisting folds in her sheets. They had finally given her more, when she’d let slip that she was cold some time after her first trip to the practice range. Still, she did not feel warmth. Everything was cold; even the water they used to bathe her felt like melted snow. It didn’t quite occur to her that it was strange when her breaths stopped clouding her visor, plumes of warmth formerly obvious signs of the frigid conditions. She figured that she had developed some form of tolerance to it.
That aside, she was considering the idea of wrapping the cloth around her head to make another layer of protection against the siren’s screeching when the door opened. It wasn’t a controlled motion, swinging open more forcefully than usual. Everything, for a while now, had become an exercise in perception, and strengthening that sense. Little differences stood out.