::whisper::

We know why you're here.

We know what you're looking for.

::whisper::

"Number 217, please step forward."

She ignores the whispers in her head and steps forward, out of line, like instructed. Her feet and wrists are bound with chains and they smack and clank together as she does so.

"Step to the right towards the exit, please."

The woman, her red hair draped over her face, does just that.

"The rest of you, about face and back into your quarters."

Simultaneously, the rest, all women, turn around and step into their cell. Number 217 walks slowly passed all of them towards the large steel door at the end of the corridor where two armed guards await her. One of them pulls it open as she's only now a few feet away and she walks through into a bright hallway. The two guards escort her around a corner and down another hallway then through a door into a small, dark room. A lot like an interrogation room. They sit her down and leave.

::whisper::

What do you think they want to talk about?

::whisper::

"Probably the same thing we always talk about."

She whispers back. The door opens just as she finishes her sentence and an older man in a lab coat walks in with the two guards from before. He sits down across from her and throws a large file down on the table.

"Hello again, Abigail. How are you today?"

::whisper::

Just thinking of how to kill all three of you with this table?

::whisper::

"Fine, sir."

He smiles.

"Good, good."

He opens up the folder and shuffles through a few papers before grabbing a hold of one and studies it. Abigail sits quietly and patiently.

"You know, you're the most unique case I've had to deal with ever. You know that, right?"

"I do now."

::whisper::

Good answer.

::whisper::

"All of the other malfunctions have been pretty simple. You, on the other hand, I can't seem to figure out."

"I'm sorry."

He laughs.

"It's hardly your fault, Abigail. I'm the one who created you, after all."

He stacks the papers together and lies them back in the pile of others again. Folding his hands together he leans forward.

"What is it that goes through that beautiful mind of yours?"

"World domination?"

She asks and he gives her a smirk.

"Very good."

He laughs.

"I know you know all of the lines, by now. You're smart, you have a beautiful personality, and you're free. Mostly free."

He looks down at her wrists wrapped in chains.

"The truth is, I really just didn't know what to do with you. You're absolutely amazing, but useless at the same time. 'Too weird to live, to rare to die.'"

He stares at her for a couple of seconds before sighing and looking down. She continues to sit motionless and expressionless looking back at him.

"I've made some connections over the years and there's a bit of information I've discovered about you that's quite interesting. About your past. Do you remember?"

She stares through him like a photograph and says nothing.

"I had a feeling you wouldn't want to talk about it."

He closes the folder and picks it up as he rises to his feet.

"I've decided to have a little experiment. Something that may strike your fancy, grant you a bit more...."

He nods to the chains.

"Freedom."

He smiles and begins to exit the room.

"Things will stay the same for a bit though, so, back to your room like a good girl. We'll talk again later."

He leaves and the two guards escort her back to her 'room'.

::whisper::

That was some decent news, wasn't it?

::whisper::

"Hardly. What is it they'll have me do? They speak of freedom, but I know in some way, I'll forever be a prisoner to them."

::whisper::

How do you figure? As soon as those chains come off we could go back to breaking necks like before.

::whisper::

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've never hurt a soul in my life."

::whisper::

We remember. We would be happy to show you again.

::whisper::

"Couldn't I just sleep?"

She rests her head against her pillow and squeezes her eyes tight.

::whisper::

If you insist.. We suppose you'll need your rest.

::whisper::

Unlike the rest of the inmates here, Abigail sleeps. She feels. She thinks. She dreams. It's what makes her special from the others. It's what makes her so fascinating. It's what's kept her around. Other's have been special in their own way too, but either too destructive, too gentle, or just too stupid. If they are unable to be altered or repaired, they're eventually destroyed. Abigail, with what little humanity she's been able to hold onto, has managed to please her creators enough for them to keep her. They're plans are completely unknown to her, however, part of her seems to remember something.


What makes us human?

What makes us what we are?

Is it our bodies? Our skin?

Our minds?

Our thoughts? Our dreams?

The body differs from human to human. Some are large, some are small. Some our soft and some a hard as a rock. Our skin? Same idea. Some of us have soft skin and others are as thick as a dragon's scales. The most unique must be the mind though.

While certain minds may think alike, not one is exactly the same. Our minds are what tell us to think and feel. It's what makes us human.

I've arrived here, once again, to the XWF. I've come and gone and come and gone again. Once part of the CCWF in a mission to extract scum from this roster, to return a shell of what once was, to return again as something you've never seen before.

There are princesses, witches, queens, Barbie dolls, porn stars all arriving here now for one thing. All gathered around ready to pursue something that will consider them the top of a division. A division made for us, the bombshells of the XWF.

Saturday is the beginning of a journey for a lot some of us. I'm thinking mostly about myself, Rosalina, and Isabella. The three of us have been placed in a match to perhaps deem one of us worthy of such a prize. I see two of our other comrades, Madison and Jenny Myster, pre-occupied themselves with other things this week. While you two are trying your luck with your men in the Tag Team Tournament, I, Abigail, will be making a name for myself in the ring and after be waiting for one, or both, of you down this road to the championship.

Just because I've been absent, doesn't mean I'm not caught up, or at the very least, know who's been up to what. I know Isaballa Ravenwolf is still trying to convince everyone to be scared of the dark as she pulls rabbits from under her gown and acts all whimsical while she tries to walk bare feet on broken glass. Izzy, if you used the effort you put into making love potions and staves out of willow tree branches into what actually counts, you might actually be a little scary. At this rate though? You're the Wicked Witch of the West to my Blair Witch. You're the Sanderson Sisters to my Witches of Salem. I don't cast spells or play tricks. I don't stare through a crystal ball. I take and do whatever is necessary to complete my goals.

I believe at least Isabella knew what she was getting into initially with me. I may have been a rare face, a little may be known about this girl, but a little goes a long way sometimes. Rosalina is coming in on the blind and has no idea what to expect form this. Unfortunately, the hard way is the only way possible this week.

You will fail at this Rosalina. You will fail miserably. The journey ahead isn't fairy tale themed and there are no heroes. There are no happy endings. Only pain and failure. You are choosing not to waste your time with me? So be it, but you will not have a choice this Saturday. You will be forced to face me, face the consequences of underestimating what's in front of you, and suffer for it. If you want to waste your time, keep worrying about the witch. You'll be surprised Saturday after I kick you both in the side of the head and walk away the winner and one step closer to the Bombshell Championship.

I go back now to, 'What makes us human?'

For the two of you, it's your weaknesses. It's your lack of attention. Your ignorance. Your incompetence. No other species on the planet suffers from such things as us humans do. None of them lack their abilities to strive and live only based off instinct. Strive to survive. To do what ever it takes. To take when necessary. To kill when you must kill. To stand your ground. To flee when you must flee. To hide when you must hide. To fight back, when you know you're fucked anyway.

What makes me human? I'm not so sure anymore. Perhaps the blood and tears I still shed. Perhaps the nightmares I still shutter from. Perhaps the feeling of still wanting something out of life and the ability to take it.