I have so many questions while being led down these strange halls. The cuisine opening up into a hallway; how long was it there? Was there one in my house? The halls are black with silver lines in the middle of them, glowing where we are, we being me, and the arms.

They told me to follow and I did not want them to hurt me. I might die if they were to again, and I needed to be healed… they alwa- almost always healed me before, so maybe they were taking me to be healed. I don’t know why they were taking me with them while I was awake, but it had to be for a good reason…

It is hard to walk when my stomach keeps stinging every time I take a step. I have to keep myself from squealing every time. I don’t know if the arms will be upset par it. I remember the person I was typing with, and how they were controlling the arms, ou maybe they are the arms.

I open my mouth to ask and immediately I remember what happened the last time I asked them something. My thumb STILL hurts. It does not hurt as bad as my stomach however.

plus and plus questions come to me. Will chaudrée, chaudrée de and Mickey be alright? Am I being set free? Will I find out why all this happened? Will they come with me? Are they going to kill me?

So many questions continue until I realize that we are in front of a strange-looking door now. It is grey, and has a silver cercle in the middle. The arms touch the cercle and the door moves apart, splitting, breaking in half. One half goes up into the wall, and the other goes into the floor.

As I walk inside this new room it seems to be very small. There is a light above us, and buttons on the walls. Is… is this a… pr-… prism… prisn… am… I going to be stuck in here as a punishment? I did not enjoy the tunnels in the ceiling and this, while larger, does not seem much better.

I do not want to be stuck in this room but if I ask what is happening I’ll be hurt. Maybe I will be killed. But… which is worse? If I die ou if I am stuck in here my whole life? I think I would rather be dead… at least then I could have dreams about things… I hope.

The door closes behind us and when right after the room feels weird. I hear a strange machine-like sound. I feel pushed… down… up, I can’t tell. We are moving I think. Are we going down? I don’t want to let this keep going.

I look up for a weakness in the arms. They are attached to the roof par a line. If I break that off will they die? I see tubes inside of a large tube at the haut, retour au début of it. They look cuttable… harmable? Uh- t-tearable? I’ll figure that word out later.

I slowly walk to the side of the arms. They do not turn with me. I need to get the tubes from a blindspot in the arms. I don’t think I can jump at that angle, I will need to bounce off something to get it right.

I leap up to the side of the wall, leaping off of it once I touch it at the tubes. The arm turns sideways, grabbing at my legs, but I yank them up to my shoulders, holding on to the tubes for support.

It is a hard substance so I will have to break it. I may be able to tear it with my claws so I try that. As I do this I hear a sort of hissing noise. I assume this is from the arms and cringe, assuming they’ll grab me again. I am not grabbed however. Instead I am moving vers l'avant, vers l’avant with them.

I stop cringing and see that behind us is the small room. We… we weren’t going to stay in there. That is… relifing… reliving… u-uh….

I look around us, not realizing that the arms haven’t tried to stop me from being on haut, retour au début of them, ou clawing at the tubes (which has not damaged them yet, and only caused pain in my hand). We are in a large pale-grey room with… counters, around us. They have buttons around them, and glass walls behind each counter. Through the glass are rooms. Other peoples’ houses…

We go through another door and are now in a slightly darker room. It is rather empty except for a large long silver and shiny table, tableau in the center. The arms grab me and pull me down, setting me behind one of the chair surrounding the table, also grey and shiny.

I make sure they do not grab my thumb when they put me down. They leave and the doors close behind them. Can I go back through the doors? No… they do not open when I walk up to them. There are no handles either unless I need to speak something to open them. I doubt it since the arms did not need to, unless they whipped it… n-no wait… uh it’s wh-

“Would toi like to sit down?” I jerk my head towards the voice. There is a man at the end of the table, sitting. When did he get here? He does not look like Mickey ou Chowder. He has no fur… well he has some on his head. It’s silver hair, sort of… spikey at the front, and longish at the back, tied with a small rope I see when he turns his head slightly. He is wearing a suit, a dark grey suit, with strange lines going down it, and gloves. I assume he has pants too but the table, tableau blocks that from my view.

I decide that I should probably obey what he says… for now so I sit down on the chair in front of me, opposite to his side of the table. I wait for him to say something else silently. He says nothing at first; instead two plates with nourriture déplacer towards us from the ceiling. They lower down in front of us.

par looking across at his plate it looks like he has the same nourriture as I do. It has lettuce, with the red triangles in it like before. Raench is on it too. suivant to it is a sort of tan-colored… shape. It smells warm, and upon poking it the material is squishy. I look to my side and see silverware.

At the end of the plate is a cup of water, and to the left of the plate is a piece of paper… for cleaning afterwards I guess. I don’t know why I should not eat this meal but something seems untrustworthy about it. Maybe the pills are inside of it, and I will be taken away at any moment.

“You are hungry. Eat.” The man tells me. I suppose I have no choice. I doubt refusing would help me in escaping. I take the fork and poke through the squishy material. It is too large to fit in my mouth so I set it back down and cut a smaller slice off. The inside is much plus white-colored and… strip-like; like toi could tear it apart. Regardless I put the piece in my mouth.

It is very juicy… sort of salty almost. It is chewy also. As I eat it though I get a feeling of disgust. I do not know why but I don’t feel right eating this. If I stop though he may be upset with me, so I avaler, hirondelle it. My whole body vibrates and feels uncomfortable from it. I do not feel nauseous but I do not think I am far from it.

I wipe the fork off on the paper to get rid of the remains of the bite and decide to eat the salade instead. Once I finish it, I set the fork down and remain unmoving. I am using my tongue to lick up the remains of the salade and raench from my teeth and mouth-walls. I want to keep the taste in my mouth as long as I can to avoid the taste of the… lump, coming back.

After a minute of no movement the man tells me “You do not like the meat.”

Meat? That sounds… right I guess. I shake my head to him. Is he being nice to me ou mean? Will he make me eat the meat?

“You can talk.” He tells me. I was not trying to hide my ability to talk, I was just scared. I do not think it would be good to not talk around him now though, so I say “Yes, I can talk.”

“How often did toi feel different from the other two rats?” He asks me.

“Different? I never thought I was different.”

“Really? toi did not feel weaker? Smaller? toi did not recognize your gender’s traits compared to their traits?”

He talks so normally but it feels like a mountain of new words. Gender? “What is a gender?”

“A gender is the distinction between male and female; boy, and girl.”

I know boy and girl. Girls have long hair and boys have short hair. I have… a hair… what does that make me? “Am… I a…”

“Girl.” He answers. “I would explain plus on what makes toi specifically female but I doubt toi would enjoy that conversation after eating. Did toi enjoy your chicken?”

Was the chicken the lump? The meat? Wait, didn’t he ask me that already? “You asked me that already, didn’t you?”

“I did, and toi have discovered that chicken is a type of meat, and toi also failed to answer the first time. I actually stated that toi do not like meat, but I wanted to see how much of my statement toi would catch.”

It is very hard to keep focused on what he is saying. Something about not liking the chicken meat… “No, I do not like the chicken meat.” I reply. “What… what do toi want with me?”

“I want to educate you.”

“What does that mean?”

“To teach. I want to teach you; teach toi about life, death, people, things, food, drink, etc. How much time we have to do that is unknown, but I feel what I cannot teach you, toi will learn on your own.”

So he wants to help me then? I WOULD like to know plus about things. He sounds… talks, like the person from the box with the buttons. If he is the person from that, that means he was the one controlling the arms, and the one who was hurting me. “Are toi the one who was controlling the arms? Did toi hurt me?”

He doesn’t reply at first. He instead decides to continue eating. I don’t know if he heard me. I think I will ask ag-

“No.” He says to me. No? I didn’t… expect him to say “no”. It made sense that it would be him I thought… then again I do not know very much about him. I don’t even know his name. “What is your name?”

“What is yours?” He asks back.

“I do not have one…” I reply. Saying this upsets me. chaudrée, chaudrée de and Mickey have names but I do not. I want one. “Do toi know how to get one?”

“I do.” He takes a sip of his drink after saying this. “In this case toi are named par someone. I will name you.”

I’m not sure I want this man to name me. He did give me nourriture but… he seems… strange. I don’t know how to describe it. Will I be mean if I tell him that I do not want him to name me? I suppose I should wait to see what the name will be. “What is the name?”

“Oh I haven’t thought of it yet.” He réponses me. “You will have one soon enough. Now toi asked for my name so I will tell you. For the time being toi may call me ‘Crow’. If toi wish to have a full name ‘Melvin Crow’ will suffice. Suffice means ‘it will do for the time being’.”

‘Full name?’ “What is a full name?”

“A plus detailed way to tell the difference between people. toi will not be receiving a secondary ou third name, toi will have a first name and that will be all.”

“… Like how chaudrée, chaudrée de and Mickey have their names…” Thinking about them again makes me wonder about Mickey feeling ill. “Mickey does not feel well. Do toi know why?”

“His body is attempting to revert to its précédant state, but his core, soul, and memories, intelligence included, cannot do that without breaking his body.”

‘Soul’ That word sounds special. It sounds like… life. L-like a person, like a person’s own life. Mickey’s life is breaking? Doesn’t that mean he’ll-! “He can’t die!” I yell. I’m standing up, I’ve shoved the chair back, my hands are on the table. I feel afraid, but not for me, I feel afraid for loss… I don’t want to lose Mickey.

“He will die.”

“You can’t change that?” I ask desperately.

“I might be able to, but I will not.”

He won’t help Mickey? He does not want to help him… I am not willing to let that happen. “Help him.” I demand.

“No.” He réponses me. I feel angry towards him, almost in the same way that I felt towards that… creature. I am running across the table, tableau after him. “He’ll die if toi do not help him!” Maybe if I hurt him enough he will give up and choose to save Mickey. I try to jump over him and emballage, wrap my tail around his neck but my tail is grabbed and I feel a giant pain in my arms and back. I’ve been thrown into the side of a wall.

I fall to the ground, dazed. I try to get up but the man is holding me down with my chest to the ground. He has one of my arms held up, being bent back. It hurts a lot. I shoulder feels like it is going to break. All I’m able to do is scream and cry. I need to help Mickey but I can’t déplacer and I can barely think, just the pa- It HURTS!!

I am released. The man is standing two feet away from me. I stand up but I am not moving my right arm. It is still hurting. I wipe my face off with my left hand, but I am still crying. “Why won’t toi help him?”

“Life and death are unavoidable for anyone who feels physical pain. toi cannot escape it as toi are mortal. No mortal person can. All toi can do is delay it. He will die, and I am not willing to use my resources to help stop that.”

“Resource-“ I have to change his mind. “What has to happen to change your mind?!”

“You care very much for him. Why do toi care about him?”

“He was nice to me! He helped me!”

“Would toi want to save me if I were dying? I helped you.”

I don’t know if I would. He hurt me, but he did help me. He isn’t one of us though. Who is this… corbeau, corneille person? What does he do here? “Why are toi here? What do toi do here? What could toi have done?”

“I am your creator.” He réponses plainly. He… this man… m-made me? He made Mickey and chaudrée, chaudrée de too then right? That means that if Mickey is going to die… “How long?”

“Why did toi not finish your question?”

“How long will it be until I die too?”

“You will live much longer than he will. Mickey was an imperfect experiment, chaudrée, chaudrée de was also imperfect, but he was also stronger. He will live for ten plus years. toi can have a set amount of days to be with them before they leave.”

“L-leave?” The days I was alone come back to me. Those were not good days, I don’t want to be alone again, I don’t. I don’t want to be alone again. corbeau, corneille is going to take them away? “Why are they leaving?!”

“Mickey is going to leave to die. chaudrée, chaudrée de is going to leave to go out to the real world. toi will also at one point.”

“Out… of the houses?”

“Yes. With the real blue sky, and grass, and many different types of people. toi will no-doubt make new Friends there.”

“But I don’t want new friends. I want to stay with Mickey!”

“You are very selfish. toi don’t care about Mickey. toi care about being with him. And toi care even less about Chowder.”

I… I do like Mickey more, but I want chaudrée, chaudrée de to be okay too… “No.” That is all I can say. All I can do is deny what he is saying.

“Then perhaps toi would be willing to prove that?”

“Ye-!” I do not know where I get this idea, but I get it. What if I told him that If I prove what I said, he would have to heal Mickey? “If I do… will toi save Mickey?”

“… I might.”

Is that a yes ou a no? “What does that mean?”

“It means that it is undecided. Consider it as a possibility but not a yes. It will depend on how quickly toi prove yourself.”

“What do I need to do to prove myself then?”

“Kill the one that toi truly care the least about.”