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Life in the facility isn’t all bad. Or so she tried to tell herself. She got three meals a day, a warm bed, and an hour to herself. She was allowed to color and play quietly in her room. Her stuffed chimera always kept her company.
She wasn’t allowed to interact with the other children or test subjects here, and sometimes the tests they made her take hurt her head and made her dizzy. Occasionally, she would throw up, only to get picked up roughly and returned to her chair to continue the tests. If she was lucky, someone would wipe her mouth. If they were in a good mood, she might get a glass of water and a ginger candy.
She didn’t know if she was lucky today though.
She had been in her little room (cell), lying in bed, listening to the screams and gunfire outside. She clung to her stuffed chimera, hiding and shaking under her thin blanket.
The door to her room opened with a creak, and she sat up, her eyes adjusting to the light filtering in.
Anya looked up at the man in front of her. Unlike the scientists who poked and prodded at her mind with their perfectly clean and crisp white coats, his green uniform was disheveled, and torn in places, with blood splatters across the fabric.
Despite his appearance, the smile on his face was warm as he crouched down in front of her, “Are you okay?”
She nodded silently.
“What’s your name?”
“Anya,” she answered after a moment.
“Well, Anya, you don’t have to stay here any longer.” He patted her head, “Why don’t we collect your things and go?”
“But what about-” There were so many things, she didn’t know where to start.
“You don’t have to worry about anything anymore. All right?”
His smile didn’t match the look in his eyes, but it didn’t seem like the anger was directed towards her. She stood up slowly, stuffed chimera in her arms, “Okay.”
He picked her up gently and carried her through the now empty test site. What she didn’t know was that he was careful to keep the dead bodies of her former keepers out of sight. When they finally reached the outside, she was surprised to see a completely dark sky with no moon in sight.
That explained why she couldn’t hear his thoughts.
That should have concerned her a little, but the kindness he’d already shown her was more than enough to convince her he was a hero.
Later, the man told her she could call him ‘Papa’ and that she would never have to go back to the facility. In fact, no one would ever do experiments on her ever again. She’d never have to take one of their tests again in her life.
“You can be a normal little girl now,” he said gently. His voice was surprisingly soft, as he patted her head. Part of her was convinced this was another trick, but the man’s (Papa’s) thoughts were so loud , so clear .
She’s just a child. A child. The government defunded Project Apple years ago, where did they even have the money to continue running experiments? I’ll track them all down and-
His thoughts turned scary , and Anya decided she had ‘heard’ enough.
This man was her Papa now. And she was Papa’s daughter now. Papa’s completely normal daughter.
Except she didn’t know how to be normal.
There was a small learning curve, in learning how to be Papa’s daughter and how to be a normal girl (she still didn’t really have this part down). Papa enrolled her in a fancy school, where the other students kept their distance, except for Becky. Becky didn’t care about the rumors about her or her papa.
And that’s how it was, just her and Papa and Bond. Just the three of them.
Well, and sometimes there was Uncle Winston. He apparently worked with Papa. Papa didn’t really like him (he never said that out loud though), but Uncle Winston was the only one Papa trusted to watch her when he was busy with work.
(Anya didn’t like to think about Papa’s work)
But tonight, Papa was on a date! Just like in Berlint in Love. She didn’t really understand what a date was or what being lovey-dovey meant, but that was just what Becky told her about dates.
Part of her wanted to ask Uncle Winston about dates, but he was being grumpy again. Not like he was ever not grumpy, but tonight, he was particularly grumpy as he sat on the couch and watched her run around with Bond chasing behind her.
“Be careful, kid,” he said gruffly. “Your Papa’ll get mad at me if you get hurt.”
“I won’t get hurt!” she protested. “Anya isn’t a baby.”
He rolled his eyes, the exasperation clear on his face, “All right, whatever you say, kid.” Forger really pulls rank to make me watch his brat.
He returned his attention to the television, and Anya ran around with Bond for a little longer, before getting tired. She and Bond sat in front of the door. She looked over at him, “How do you think Papa’s date went?” she asked the dog.
Bond didn’t answer (he was a dog, duh), but he sat up straighter, looking right at the door. Anya tilted her head to the side. She heard a familiar jingle of keys outside the door and she stood up excitedly, “Papa’s home!” she announced. She got up on her tiptoes, to try and open the door, but failed.
Uncle Winston let out a frustrated sigh and stood up, coming behind her to open the door, grumbling about how little girls weren’t supposed to be opening the door by themselves.
He opened the door, and Anya rushed outside, running into a pair of legs. A pair of legs that weren’t Papa’s.
She looked up with wide eyes, surprised to see a woman with Papa. A really pretty one. Like prettier than Princess Honey.
She then felt a pair of familiar arms go around her, and she beamed, as she was lifted off the ground.
“Yor, this is my daughter, Anya.”
That’s right. She was Papa’s daughter.
Nothing would ever change that.