Janis and the Machine

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This story is from 2010, when I challenged myself to write something dark. While I am generally happy with the writing, I have been reticent to publish it. However, having shown it to a few friends, they have encouraged me to proceed, but have urged me to include a content warning.

Content Warning: While not graphic, animal testing is one of the main themes. It is also bleak throughout. This is adult, but SFW. If you prefer more positive content, then please check out my other stories.


Janis glanced at the reflection on the surface in front of her. She didn't suit make-up. She never had done. But that was irrelevant now. Money is more than just a cosmetic beauty so she was reduced to being dolled up like a whore for the sake of a buck. Or should that be several bucks?

Her eyes reflected the pain of her spirit, screaming in anger, tattooed in a redness that came from the depths of hell itself. Tears dragged themselves through her matted fur, coagulating to form a sludgy morass of eyeliner and dirt that smeared itself across her emaciated face. Wearily, she circled before planting herself down on the concrete floor beneath her paws. She used to be beautiful once.

Above her, a strip-light hummed, infecting her brain with a sense of aching numbness. The light flickered, dancing doleful steps across the synapses of her brain, massaging all feeling until it was sedated. She just let it happen. It was easier not to feel, she reasoned. And anyway, she had become sick of feeling sorry for herself, particularly when there was no-one left to feel sorry for her.

She tried to close her eyes, blinking violently in an attempt to wash the pain away. For several minutes she tried, attempting to claw the thick tar from her face, but she only succeeded in sluicing rivers of red deep into her skin. Blood and black soon dissolved like molten metal dripping from a furnace, solidifying into dark flecks on the cold floor below. Sighing and stinging, she gave up and squinted herself to sleep.

It was tranquil in her dreams. She was in a verdant meadow bathed in the warming rays of the Sun. To her left was a field of wheat, dancing merrily in the breeze. In the glorious light, it was as gold and as regal as an heiress. She felt like royalty just by being there.

She inhaled deeply. The analgesia of warm summer air filled her lungs, making her heart beat rhythms of joy. She looked up at the birds, mere tadpoles in the sea of sky, and wondered what it would be like to swim with them. They truly were noble, she thought. On days like this, everything was.

In front of her lay a stream. The water was as pure as her heart, glistening invitingly in the sunshine. In the distance she could hear it giggling as it trickled over some rocks. To a thirsty hare, the sound was that of temptation. It was as if it was urging her to let her guard down and imbibe its sweetness. She bent down to take a drink, gulping greedily in the heat.

Suddenly she heard a sound. She listened intently, her heart now playing a faster tune, warning her to escape while she still had the chance. She listened for a further few seconds. Nothing. She continued drinking, lapping up the elixir as the heat cloyed at her fur, trapping her within its thick blanket and suffocating her slowly.

The next time she heard something, it was considerably closer and this time her instincts urged her to run. She darted drunkenly forward, paws and mind racing in tandem, knowing that she had to escape from her mystery assailant.

She didn't know what it was but she knew she had to dash. Her paws pounded the hard ground, parched and gasping in the August heat. Her throat was dry and prickly, wheezing against the oppression, crying out for another lap of the bittersweet honey. She listened, hoping to discover where her aggressor may be, but all she could hear was the stream's mocking laughter.

She kept running dizzily forward, the fear and heat combining to form a noxious cocktail that tainted her brain with an acute sense of futility. But she had to succeed - there was no other option. She had heard what they do to young hares and she knew that her current desperation would be nothing compared to what it would be if she got caught.

The arid field and the pain became one as Janis careered her way through both, but air soon became fire as she stumbled closer towards oblivion. She was tiring and the more exhausted she became, the more she fumed at her own stupidity. Why had she let her guard down? Why hadn't she escaped earlier? How could she have been so reckless? But now wasn't the time for recriminations - now was the time to escape.

Warily, she glanced behind her, scared at what she might see. There was nothing. Perplexed, she skidded to a halt, churning up a storm of choking fumes that soon folded their way back down to earth in a heavy shower of dirt. Breathlessly, she looked around, expecting something to jump out at any moment. But again, there was nothing.

She sniffed the air tentatively, hoping for a sign. Nothing. She scoured the land, hoping for a clue, but all she could see was the innocence of summer. Unsteady and unsure, she sat down on the scorched earth and rested.

She didn't know what to do. Her heart was heavy but her soul was light - fear and joy melding to form a cordial of ambivalence that infected her brain with confusion. It was as if she was waiting for an inevitability that refused to arrive.

She was sure she had heard something, positive even, so why could she no longer sense it? Had she been hearing things? Did she have any evidence to back up her instincts? She just wasn't sure. It was as if everything had been numbed, stripped away by the excoriating light of the Sun.

She closed her eyes and lethargically flopped on the ground beside a bush. She needed the shade, she needed to rest, despite the birds circling and squawking their warnings. She knew the soft breeze may be the eye of the storm, but the grip of the summer was asphyxiating her senses.

As she lazily lay in the warmth, seconds turned into minutes, then into hours. She couldn't remember how much time had elapsed, but what happened next would stay with her for the rest of her days.

She didn't know from where it came, she just knew that it did. Leaves were torn asunder as the creature bore its claws towards her, arcing gracefully through the air like a ballerina with a knife.

Instinctively, she rolled to one side to avoid the sharp razors. She then jumped up and darted into another parched field. Behind her she could hear a heavy thud as she choked on the pestilent fumes of her assailant's failure. She smiled but she knew now wasn't the time to gloat - it was the time to abscond.

She heard him pick up his rattled bones and give chase, with cavernous growls and vengeance on his mind. She didn't dare risk a glance for fear of being paralyzed - knowing that being stuck in the same place would result in being stuck forever - so she kept fleeing, running as fast as she could.

Her mind was racing as the snarls behind her magnified into tidal waves which threatened to engulf her spirit and drown her soul. But she battled on, survival's instinct her guiding light, the glinting dagger that had been unsheathed from its scabbard. She knew that this was a battle she must win and she was determined to fight to the death.

She could sense he was getting closer. The warm air on her pelt felt like the hot breath of her assailant as the typhoon that surrounded her became increasingly strong. Yet she didn't feel in danger. The power of proclivity had numbed all rationale and the more she kept running, the more anaesthetized she became. Her paws were like pistons and her heart was humming desire, but instinct was the only thing that was driving her now.

She strained to escape but the heat was sapping her strength. As the fields zipped past, her mind had already started to fold to destiny's hand. Fight and flight were dissolving into futility.

She caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye. His eyes were transfixed, hypnotized by her bobbing white tail, shackled to her form in intense dedication. Drool descended down his mouth as he ran, watering the arid earth beneath his harsh paws. His goal was singular and she was it.

In a last-ditch attempt, she quickly shifted direction, hoping to confuse him. It didn't work. It only made things worse. Ahead of her she spied another, its muzzle cascading rivers of poison over pointed jagged rocks. She shuddered and quickly changed direction again, hoping that there weren't more of these creatures lying in wait.

Her hopes were in vain. No matter which way she turned, all she could see was legs, as tall and imposing as a midnight forest. Tired and in trouble, she knew the battle was lost.

As they moved closer, tightening the noose, she prayed into submission. She could feel the trees closing in, forming dark shadows over her frame, forcing her to become a shadow of the creature she once was. And as the light quickly faded, the shadow swallowed her soul and she became fully ensnared in their trap.

Then there was nothing left but darkness.

***

It must have been several hours before she woke up. Her eyes lethargically opened, struggling their way to freedom, poking pathetically out of the gunge that surrounded them. They quivered in the artificial light, becoming accustomed to the pain once more.

Her ears pricked up. In the distance she heard voices coming towards her. She also heard the sound of hard paws against the thick lacquered floor. Her heart sank. They were coming. They were coming for her.

She then heard the sound of laughter. She sighed. She had experienced laughter - long, long ago - before she had been sent to this prison, miles away from her home. Those were distant memories now, partly due to time and partly due to the torture, but they were still there, humming in the background of her mind.

249/34G looked up as the laboratory door swung open. On the other side, the hare spied one of its captors - a grizzled old fox in a crisp white coat. The garment's virginity betrayed the cruelty of the creature it contained as he smirked a greeting in the hare's direction. In one paw, he held a syringe, which he flicked hypnotically, methodically, calculatingly.

Like a dying fox, the hare retreated into the depths of its den and waited for destiny. Morality followed. It shuddered, knowing it wouldn't be long before the next test began.