Science Fiction and Fantasy Box Set 1: The Squishies Series

by Claire Chilton

  The voice caused a shiver of fear to tremble down her spine. She was only twelve. She was too young to rot in prison forever. Someone would come to get her out. They just had to.

  She frowned as she sank onto the bed. They’re just trying to scare me, but what if I never get out? She shook her head. No, I just need to do my two weeks. If I’m good, I’ll get to go home.

  She narrowed her eyes. I just need to survive for two weeks and get out of this cell. She sat back on the bed, trying to ignore the very real fear that she could be stuck in here forever.

  She lay down and closed her eyes while contemplating the explosive properties of bleach. I’ll get out of here one way or another.

  At six a.m. the next morning—too bright and too early for Carla’s liking—she was led to the girls’ dormitory by Mr. Rancy.

  She yawned repeatedly while she walked through the drab corridors to a large room that contained approximately thirty beds and twenty-five girls.

  The girls stood uniformly to attention at the ends of their beds. Each dressed in matching gray smocks with matching blank expressions on their young faces. One gasped when Carla walked in. Obviously, purple was a new color around here.

  Mr. Rancy glanced sharply at the girl who’d gasped, and her blank expression quickly returned.

  Carla much preferred the shocked expression. It had contained more character. She dutifully followed the angry little guard to her new bed.

  The bed looked just as uncomfortable as her last one. As if to add insult to injury, this one also came equipped with an itchy gray blanket. There was a gray smock neatly folded up on it.

  She turned to Mr. Rancy and raised an eyebrow.

  He ignored the gesture. “Get changed into your uniform, make your bed, and then go to breakfast with the other girls. You will have an induction later today.” He walked away stiffly.

  “Oh, goody,” Carla muttered under her breath.

  She rolled her eyes and plonked herself down onto the bed. She scanned the room, exploring her new environment.

  Why, there are lots of things to break here!

  She glanced at the other girls, all of whom were green-skinned in varying shades and looked drab and lost. There was emptiness in their expressions, a lack of hope in their eyes.

  A short girl was the first to approach Carla. She was incredibly pretty and slightly plump. Judging by her face, Carla estimated she was a few years younger than herself, maybe ten or eleven.

  Carla smiled at her as she picked up the shapeless smock on her bed. It was an awful thing and probably made to be soul-destroying on purpose. What girl could wear this and feel like a girl?

  The short girl reached Carla and cautiously peered at her. “H-hi,” she said.

  Carla glanced up, flashing a bright smile. “Hiya, what do you do around here for fun?”

  “Oh, we don’t have that! It’s banned.” The girl’s eyes widened. “How come you’re purple?”

  “How does someone ban fun?” Carla asked. She waved away the second question with her hand. “If only I knew.” This was her standard response after years of being asked about her color. The color of her skin was just another mystery in her already unusual life.

  “I don’t know how they ban it. I just know that it’s banned.” The girl frowned.

  Carla raised her eyebrow again. “Well, what happens if you get caught breaking the rules?”

  The girl thought for a few seconds. “I don’t know,” she said eventually. “No one has ever broken the rules.”

  A huge smile spread across Carla’s face. “Well, in that case,” she said, taking the smock off the bed and a pair of scissors out of her rucksack. “I plan to have some fun.” She cut the top of the smock off.

  The younger girl sat on the bed, curiously watching Carla while she cut the smock up into pieces.

  “I’m Lilly,” the girl said. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m Carla, and I’m making this thing look wearable.” She held up the triangular piece of gray cloth she had cut from the smock’s top and tied it around her back and her neck, which instantly transformed it into a backless halter top. She then cut a strip off the remaining tube shape and made a belt for the skirt, which the leftover material had formed. She picked up the fallen sleeves and examined them.

  “They won’t make anything useful,” she said, throwing them in the nearby garbage can.

  Lilly looked overjoyed at the sight of interesting clothes. They were still gray, but they were now a girly-gray, not a drab shapeless lump of cloth.

  “That’s fantastic,” Lilly cried. “Make me one!” She dashed to her bedside, pulling out a spare smock. Then she ran back to Carla and handed it to her.

  “You’ll get into trouble!” a voice cried.

  Carla glanced up to see tall, thin girl with an immensely frightened expression on her face, gaping at them from the bed opposite.

  “Why?” Carla winked at her. “If there’s nothing in the rule book banning creativity, what can they do?” She knowingly smiled.

  At breakfast in the C.R.A.P. canteen, a group of fashion models sashayed into the huge hall wearing a variety of skimpy gray outfits, much to the annoyance of Nick Rancy.

  When the parade of happy, chattering girls passed his table, he burned with fury at the minimalist approach the girls had taken to their uniforms. He was certain it was the new purple inmate who was responsible for this, and she was going to regret it.

  Sneering with distaste, he attempted to jump up to roar for the guards to take Carla to solitary confinement, but he realized—too late—that all the tables were nailed to the floor. Because there was something bulky behind his chair, hemming him in, his knees crashed into the tabletop with quite some force. The dishes on the table clattered loudly and bounced with him.

  “Aaah—” He choked on a grape as it shot out of one of the unsteady bowls on the table and launched into his open mouth.

  He glanced back while choking to see the back end of an extremely wide kitchen assistant as she cleared away dishes on the long table behind him. She didn’t notice his plight as she ambled away.

  He continued choking on the grape, unable to speak at all, banging on the table with his fists. He scowled when Doctor Daisy Sloane—the Institute’s untrained therapist, whose only qualifications were a calming tone and a desire to do good—praised the girls for their ingenious use of materials and creativity, allowing them treats from the buffet car for innovation.

  Mr. Rancy staggered out of his chair and lurched toward Carla. He couldn’t breathe, but he was going to strangle that girl if it was the last thing he did.

  Hands wrapped around him and crushed his ribs, squeezing him and jerking him about like a ragdoll. He glanced back and groaned when he realized the kitchen assistant had him in her grasp. She was single and desperate. This day can’t get any worse.

  “Help! Someone, please help him!” she cried.

  One of the guards rushed over and stared blankly at Nick. All Nick could do was gag helplessly at the bulky man as the kitchen assistant shook him about, and his teeth rattled.

  “Punch him in the stomach.”

  Nick scowled when he heard Carla Mainston’s voice behind them.

  He tried to shake his head, but the stupid guard had already raised his fist. The guard launched a fist into Nick’s stomach, full-force. The blockage cleared in his throat as the grape shot out of his mouth and across the canteen.

  Nick gasped for air, clutching his stomach. I’m going to kill that girl!

  “You wonderful girl, you saved him.” He heard Doctor Daisey congratulate Carla.

  “I don’t think it’s out yet,” Carla said. “Now punch him in the face.” He heard her say to the guard.

  No, you fool! Nick reacted too slowly as the guard’s fist headed for his face at high-speed. The last thing he heard was a giggle. The last thing he saw were meaty knuckles, before the world faded away into inky darkness.

  “Oh, come on! I saved you from choking
, and this is how you repay me,” Carla cried as two thickset guards shoved her into a cell in solitary confinement. She stumbled into the room, reaching out for the wall for balance before spinning around.

  She tried not to smirk when Nick Rancy stepped into the cell, sporting a shiny black eye and a grim smile.

  “I was only trying to help.”

  “You’re in a dangerous position, Miss Mainston. Right now, I control everything that happens to you. You might want to begin with remorse because that’s the only thing that will get you out of this cell in your lifetime.” There was a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

  “You might want to kiss my a—” Carla paused as Rancy pulled a syringe full of blue liquid out of his pocket. “Er, what’s that?”

  “This?” He grinned as he held it up. “Oh, this is from Zoola. We’ve been hoping to find an inmate we can test it on, and I think you’re perfect.”

  Carla backed away into her cell. She hated needles. “Now, let’s not escalate the situation. There’s no need for whatever the hell that is, and you’re not trained to administer it.”

  “Well, that’s true.” He shrugged. “It’s a serum for making a patient more grounded. It’ll help you deal with all that anger in a more productive way.” He stepped into the cell grinning. “It’ll make you into a doe-eyed little cow, who’ll do everything you’re told to.”

  Carla shivered. Judging by the look in his eyes, it’d make her into a vegetable. “I want to call my mother.” She’ll get me out of here.

  Rancy flashed a nasty smile. “If wishes were moonbeams.” He backed out of the cell and slammed the door shut, locking her inside.

  She ran to the door. “You can’t keep me in here!” she cried through the hole in the door.

  His face appeared on the other side of the grill. “I can keep you in here as long as I want.” He flashed a nasty smile. “In fact, I think tomorrow we’ll start you on some medication to make you calm down since you’re a danger to yourself.” A crazy light appeared in his eyes as he turned on his heel and walked away.

  Carla widened her eyes at the door. “But all I did was speak… you can’t drug me!” Her voice echoed down the hall, but no one replied.

  She turned and slid down the door until she was sitting on the floor, staring at the barred window. Crap.

  With no concept of time in the dark cell, it seemed like a lifetime later when she heard footsteps hurrying down the hall. She frowned when she heard them stop outside her cell door.

  “Psst! Carla?” a young female voice asked.

  She stood up and turned to face the grill. “Yeah?” She peered through the grill.

  Lilly smiled up at her. “Hey, I brought you some food.” The younger girl squashed a blueberry muffin through the bars in the grill.

  Carla took the mashed up muffin with a smile. “Thanks, Lilly. How did you get in here?” She frowned, not wanting her new friend to get into any trouble.

  “I got Jerry in the boy’s block to swap jobs with me. Actually, that’s kinda why I’m here. Everyone wanted to know what you’re going to do to Nick next,” Lilly said.

  Carla’s frown deepened. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, since the thing in the canteen, there’s been a lot of talk about you being here to set us free. There’s a rumor going around that you’re some kind of messiah. Some of the guys reckon you’re here to slay the beast on the fourth floor, and since there’s a prophesy that reckons the person who slays the beast will bring about the rebellion, we were all wondering if, like, that was you?” Lilly said as she swept a broom across the corridor a few times. “You know, cos you took on Mr. Rancy. You’re kinda getting a reputation, so all the kids are kinda hoping you are.”

  “What?” Carla blinked. “I’m not a messiah.” She laughed. “What beast on the fourth floor?”

  “Oh, then it’s not time for the rebellion yet.” Lilly sighed.

  Carla tried to fight the urge to rebel. Here it was, a rebellion on a platter that was just waiting for a leader. Even though she’d promised her mother that she’d be good, this place wasn’t going to play fair. She narrowed her eyes. There wasn’t a peaceful resolution to this. It was fight back or end up incarcerated for a lifetime.

  “I didn’t say that,” Carla said. “Tell me more about this rebellion.”

  Lilly peered up with hopeful eyes. “It started a few years ago. One of the kids here is a seer. She see’s things, like the future all the time. Anyway, she saw that someone would slay the beast on the fourth floor, and it would make this place crumble to the ground.”

  “And people believe that?” Carla asked, feeling a little bit skeptical.

  “Well, she’s been right about everything so far, so we started preparing.” Lilly nodded.

  “Preparing how?”

  “Well, we have weapons, an army, and a plan. We’re just waiting for the right time.”

  Carla smiled. “Can you get me out of this cell?”

  “Oh yeah, sure.” She pulled a wonky wooden key out of her pocket and waved it at Carla. “I made this ages ago. It’s a master key for all the cells on this level.”

  Carla widened her eyes. “What are you waiting for?”

  Lilly frowned. “If I let you out, you have to slay the beast.”

  “Okay, tell me about the beast.” Carla shrugged. She didn’t know what to expect on the fourth floor, but it couldn’t be worse than rotting away in a cell for the rest of her life.

  “No one’s seen it, but we hear it. It wails all night long.”

  “Do we have any more information than that?” Carla frowned.

  “One of the guys in the B-wing said that is was so evil it had destroyed a whole colony.”

  “Right, so how do I slay it?” Carla asked.

  Lilly shrugged. “I dunno.”

  Carla narrowed her eyes. “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to get me out of here, and then rally the troops for a full-blown rebellion. I’m going to take on the beast on the fourth floor, and the signal for the rebellion to begin is when you hear its death cry. It’ll be a big roar, okay?”

  “Okay.” Lilly nodded with a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “What weapons will you need?”

  Carla pondered for a moment. “A flashlight and a megaphone.”

  “What?”

  “Trust me. The only way to destroy something dark is with loud light.” Carla lied. She felt a little bit guilty, but Rancy’s near death experiment wasn’t something she planned to experience.

  She breathed when she heard Lilly unlocking the door. After it was open, the girl patted her on the shoulder. “Good luck, brave warrior.”

  “I’m guided by a force much stronger than luck,” Carla muttered. Yeah, survival.

  Carla made her way down the dark hall toward the staircase that led up to the fourth floor. She gripped the megaphone in one hand while her flashlight shook in the other.

  Lilly had supplied her with everything she needed. All she had to do was signal the other kids that it was time to riot by making a loud roar. However, to make it believable, she needed to be on the fourth floor when she did it. There probably isn’t a monster up there anyway.

  She inhaled a shaky breath as she tiptoed down the long corridor toward the main staircase. Her flashlight was shaking so much that the hallway was lit up like a nightclub, with beams flying around it like strobe lighting. This is for the good of everyone. They need their freedom. She tried to convince herself that pretending to be their messiah was good for them, but it made her feel dirty on the inside.

  She shook off the feeling. They’ve been waiting for this for a long time. It’s about time someone took down Nick Rancy and his evil imprisonment.

  She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized there were no guards at the foot of the stairs. Okay, I just have to get upstairs, and then the revolution will begin.

  The flashlight beam shook violently as she climbed the staircase, eager to get to the top unnoticed.

 
When she reached the third floor, she bumped into a post and yelped so loudly that it was a small miracle nobody heard her. Shaking off the feeling of terror, she closed her eyes for a moment and slowly exhaled. Okay, get a grip.

  She tried to shake off the goosebumps that had popped up on her arms and crept slowly and silently up to the fourth floor.

  She stopped outside the massive steel door at the top of the staircase. It was sealed shut with no obvious way in. She flashed her light around the area. It was depressingly gray and sparse. There was a big ominous door with a strong lock on it and a welcome mat in front of it.

  She ventured curiously toward the door and tried the door handle, which didn’t budge. She muttered swear words under her breath. Great, how am I supposed to get in?

  She peered down at the welcome mat. It seemed like a silly place for a doormat. Instinctively, she reached down and peered underneath it. Her eyes widened when she found a shiny key.

  She snatched up the key and put it in the lock. There are no such things as monsters. She turned the key. There was a loud thunk as the door unlocked.

  She exhaled a shaky breath as she opened the door and stepped into a dark room, leaving her flashlight on the floor near the welcome mat. She turned to check that no one had followed her.

  Her throat closed up in a silent scream as the door banged shut in her face. She heard three automatic locks click loudly into place, locking her on the fourth-floor. Oh crap.

  She winced at her predicament and peered down dark corridor behind her. There wasn’t much to see. It was dark and unlit. She felt the walls. They were smooth and cold like metal. Up ahead in the distance was a dim glow of light.

  Okay, I’m here. Let’s do this. She gripped the microphone, trying to summon a roar rather than a whimper from her vocal chords.

  She jumped when she heard an alien screaming noise in the distance. It sounded like a monster. Closing her eyes for a moment, she tried to overcome her own fear. Great, there is a monster.

  She frowned, knowing that she was meant to kill it. But, I don’t want to kill anything. Maybe it’s a nice monster. She shuddered when another wail came from the corridor ahead of her.