She sits there, naked, staring at the wall. Her hair is stringy around her face, covering her eyes. They approach cautiously: she has already taken off two fingers of two guards. Each. She didn't mean to, it was just the urge….the urge to bite, to wrench it off, to lock her teeth on it and scream until the visions stopped.
But the thoughts kept bouncing around her head like pinballs, flying arrows that never finding their mark. It made her sick, which made her angry, which made her a terrible prisoner.
Of course, somewhere out there was another planet fully inhabited with creatures with the same tentacles on the back (for movement), forearms that sprouted razor-sharp thorns (oh these? For self-protection only, I assure you…) and a third eye, but these pampered lizards had never left their home planet.
“Well? What did you see this time?” he asks impatiently. He’s frightened by her slight smile, but what kind of parole officer would he be if he let her know that?
“What?” he shouts, and would probably have continued yelling, had the physician not walked in at that moment.
“No venom. It’s my natural saliva. And probably my charm. They were speechless?” she asks, with wide innocent eyes.
She sighs. “A weapon that will destroy the planet. Smaller than the renegades themselves, possibly still at a metamorphosis stage, which would explain why I could not focus on it but it will grow much more powerful.”
“The dark guards cannot destroy it. The renegades will defend it to their last breath, and the dark guards will fail. I have seen it,” she says, closing her eyes. The flames….