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Psycho Cat

Trapped ◊ Accepting!

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((Oh butts to this. You guys can just start right now))

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When Tambika woke up, the first thing she noticed was that it was cold. The chill made the exposed skin on her feet, lower legs, arms, neck, collar, and face tingle, and when Tambika, eyes still closed, curled in on herself even tighter and experimentally tried rubbing her arms hugged round herself for warmth, she noticed that her muscles were achy and her face was tense. Tambika frowned at this discomfort, and carefully stretched one arm, then the rest of her body, despite the cold, and lay flat on her back, opening her eyes to the grey cement ceiling above her.

 

She was not in Kenya anymore.

 

The cold draft blowing against her made her shiver, and she hugged her arms, and finding that insufficient, pulled herself up to sit in a fetal position for a minute. Although the back of her neck was cold and her toes were cold, as well as the cold breeze up the back of her loose coarse shirt, the rest of her was slightly warmer, and Tambika tried not to let her teeth chatter.

 

Soon she felt comfortable and curious enough to move her head for looking around and noticing the bars in front of her, behind her, of more cells with children in some of them. This was obviously a slavery gig, although none like Tambika had expected. It was also much colder than she expected. What slavers were so rich that they could have AC, let alone turn it up so high that it would be like there was no sun outside? And why they would consider this a comfortable temperature was another question Tambika had, but maybe the cold would be better if one had been busy running around outside catching slave children, rather than spend many hours at a time in the cement building. Or truck. Or plane. Or train. Tambika did not know if there were vehicles this huge, and would have even laughed at it, but she knew that planes could be huge. Maybe smaller trucks were just cheaper? Eh.

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Finding children that she could take home with her without being caught. Since Marley's last heist, police monitoring had increased. She was lucky that she hadn't been arrested or sentenced to death. After all, some of the things she did were worse than the kidnapping she had been accused of. She had gotten off easy, much too easy. It set her on edge. Perhaps someone had been vouching for her behind the scenes. At least she had her lab again. It was heavily fortified and many more precautions had been taken. The facilities were excellent and she could perform several tests on the side along with what she had planned for the children.

 

So long as she was careful this time, she would succeed. Her time was now and all of her dreams and ambitions could come true. However, the problem of finding enough subjects to test on still remained. The later stages of the test were potentially deadly and she needed live bodies if she wanted to go through with this. Right now she had two children. One she had gotten from nearby but the other she had to resort to buying from a slaver somewhere over in Africa. Marley didn't ask how he got the child to her so cheaply but she wasn't one to object. Hopefully she wouldn't have to resort to them again.

 

She entered the storage room and rummaged through one of the crates within. It was filled with packages of dehydrated food enough to last someone several months. When her captives woke they would need food and water. She wouldn't be doing with vomiting in the cells, even if they did have drainage holes. Taking two packages in hand, Marley brought them and two plastic containers hastily filled with tap water to the children and set them inside.

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The click warned Tambika of the opening door, and she swiveled her head towards the sound. Strange that as the red-haired woman she thought she heard the whoosh of air being swept aside with the heavy door, and she just stared. This woman's skin was truly white, not simply Caucasian, it actually blended with the fluttering lab coat that she wore. Her hair was so bright she wondered if it was plastic, or a wig, or colored, or set aflame supernaturally. The ethereal woman simply hurried to toss a package into Tambika's cell, then the cell with a boy that Tambika had not noticed before, and then turned tail to rush back to the door from whence she came. That lady was in a hurry, Tambika thought wonderingly, it had seemed almost as if she were running from the two of them. Then her eyes set upon the simple brown package.

 

Relunctantly but egged by curiosity Tambika unwound her body from the tight warm crouch to reach for the lump. As soon as she felt her fingers gripping the brown paper she fumbled for the strings and untied them to find a small loaf of bread and a canteen. So... that lady was feeding the prisoners. Okay. At least Tambika knew what she did... it made the lady seem less scary, knowing that she had a job, and that she wasn't a Spirit. She was human, and humans Tambika knew.

 

Tambika looked over to the white boy's cell again and decided she had to contact him if he was awake. "Hello," she said in English, admittedly a bit loudly. She had not counted on the echoing of the room, and her throat crackled. Embarrassed, Tambika made sure to drink a bit of her water before calling again, quieter, "Hello?"

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