Chapter 3

What a formidable duo, she laughed to herself. Captain heartbreak and Lieutenant legbreak to the rescue! Still she listened.

“So if you just keep growing your nail - no, ye...yes that one - in a few more days, it’ll definitely be long enough to unpick this lock.”

“And you’re sure this’ll work? And when we get to the human door, what then?” questioned Nails.

“Oh, I’m sure that’ll be the same idea. Must have a lock like this hidden somewhere. Maybe there by that red light. Dunno, we’ll figure out. And look, if it starts kicking off, you know I’ll happily take care of it.” But the wicked grin on Sunny’s face did little to reassure Nails.

Whatever it takes, he reminded himself.

From the far side of the lab two large eyes continued to watch on silently. Lurking in the shadows, observing, scrutinising. These eyes saw everything. 

They’d seen Nails fall hopelessly in love with that god-awful creature. They’d tracked his testosterone-fuelled response, and regarded each and every one of the dim-witted actions that followed. And now here he was, about to get himself killed. 

It was entertaining to a degree, Nails certainly wouldn’t be the first to make the misguided assumption that brute force was the answer. And who was she to stop him. 

They weren’t friends. They’d never spoken. They were on completely different existential planes. 

But a recurrent vision was troubling her. 

She took a long inward breath and eased her giant eyes shut. Fuelled by the books she’d read, the stories she’d heard and the vast knowledge she’d acquired, she quietly slipped into another world. A world where she could wander far and wide, away from her physical confines. Away from her tiresome reality.

But there it was again. The vision. Intercepting her neural pathways, disorientating her mind. 

Without choice, she found herself abruptly back in the present.

Fuck. 

Frustration and anger grew. She did not fail at things. It had taken years to establish this kind of self control. To master her emotions, to harness these powers. It was the only thing that separated her from the primitive animals around her.

But these powers were finally faltering. And if they failed, if she failed, then there really would be no escape. Ever.

She had considered a lack of stimulus to be the cause. An overactive mind has an insatiable appetite after all. But this vision. Goddammit. There it was again.

She shot a quick look back across to Nails, then tapped her cage bars. Once, then three times more. 

With impatience, she tapped again. Faster. Louder.

“Ruth, it’s ok. I’m here,” a voice finally squeaked in response. “How can I help?”