"The 'flupping' sound of thick soup coming to the simmer got me to my feet. I turned it out and filled two bowls. I put one in front of her. "Sorry, i...'s very hot. Don't burn your tongue." Thank you, Master Art. I will be careful." Just 'Art', Tiarna."Her only response was to cast her eyes down at her plate and lift a spoonful, blowing on it to cool it before sipping. I think it was only the heat that stopped the soup from disappearing as fast as the bread roll; I was only half-way down my own. There is a terrible pain in my gut, a wrenching, I know that there is something inside me that is moving, part of the experiment I had to escape from. I can not bear to remember what they have done, it causes me to retreat into a far away place, where they can not touch me or inject me with serums. This thing within me steals my strength, my energy, drains me of the nourishment I take in. It steals away into my mind at night, probing with its alien little hands, whispering words that make no. More

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