Phaser

The neon sensors roared alive for the thirty-first time.

“Doc, hold on – it’s not moving.”

#20 panted. He pressed himself into the corner of the cage as tightly as he could, as though he could somehow push himself through to freedom. In his ears a symphony of blood sang in chorus with the racing of his little heart.

Footsteps crossed the room to throw open the door to his cage. “He’s in the corner again.” Rough hands grasped at his skinny limbs and #20 put on his best display of resistance, his paws skittering over metal as he tried for the corner again.

“We should knock it out.”

“No, the purpose of this is to test the conscious reaction of the subject.” Frustration edged the words of the invisible woman.

The hands forced a lead around his neck and tightened it to the skin. They fastened it to the roof with such short give that #20 was forced close to hanging in the centre of the cage. He whimpered.

The footsteps withdrew, and once more came the woman’s voice. “Again.”

Laser-blue electricity shot through #20 again and he howled from the pain, every nerve within him set afire. But this time was different. With the fire came strength, and with it, fury.

#20 strained against the lead. His neck bulged, eyes went wide. Barking, he slammed himself against the cage and as though it were paper, suddenly flew through the walls and onto the floor.

He stood as claxons began to blare. He looked back to the cage, where he’d been confined for so long, and found it intact.

#20 looked at his reflection.

He phased, in and out of view, flickering like a screen.

Hope surging, he leapt hard towards the doors, tearing his way through to freedom.