Light as a feather. Part 1

From the familiar squeaking sounds of the old sliding doors, to the dangling swaying motion of the flickering light bulb above.

That, coupled with a nostalgic—yet unappealing odor, was all he needed, to know exactly where he was.

As he slowly regained consciousness, the soft cotton sheets pressing against his body, felt like they were weighing him down even further. It was evident to him, that he was badly wounded.

'Wait till they see the other guy.' Was a thought he wished could cross his mind, as he put up a slight grin.

It was a tough fight, and he gave it his all, but still got beat up anyway.

His reason for grinning however, was because he lasted three whole minutes longer, in a fight against one of the Gifted. That was a significant improvement from a month ago.

"I can't believe you're back here again Quill!" A feminine voice exclaimed.

It was a distinct voice he'd heard one time too many, over the past month. A voice filled with blissful, bittersweet memories.

"Doc? Is that you?" He asked, with a slightly croaky tone of voice.

The small, poorly lit--cramped room, soon echoed with the sound of loud approaching footsteps, as heels struck the tiled floor.

Sliding the doors open, a feisty looking, tall red-headed woman walked in. Soon after, the unappealing odor, was displaced by a more feminine fragrance.

"Six broken ribs, a cracked Jaw, a fractured femur, a dislocated arm—" She exclaimed, with a hint of annoyance. "Need I say more?!"

The look in her eyes, said it all. If one word was used to describe it; it would have to be 'rage!'

"Yeah…that is definitely you alright." He replied, wincing in pain slightly, as he tried to laugh.

He and the Doc, had been through that little dance of back and forth banter, dozens of times before. It was almost like a ritual if you may, in his words that is.

He felt her shadow blocking the flickering light, as she stood by his bed. Prompting him to open his scarlet-red eyes. Slowly, he adjusted to the amount of light in the room, then quickly drifted his gaze towards her.

He noticed she wore the usual mini-skirt with leggings, and a loose top--all covered up by a white doctor's coat. Her long red hair tied in a braid, exposing the tiny mole near her left eye.

The Doc, Charmy, 24, had been working as the Institute's resident doctor, for a little over a year. She was an adept healer, and her skills, were almost on par with a Hunter's.

"Looking good, Doc C!" He said, winking an eye.

She looked down at him. Her piercing-green eyes visibly unamused, as she put up a slight frown. This however, did no justice to dampening her beauty.

"Flattery won't do you any good!" She exclaimed. "Getting hurt, just because you know I'll heal you, isn't smart! I thought you knew better that to pick fights you can't win Quill!"

'Rejected again!' He thought. 'But I will not give up!'

Her tone of voice, suggested she was quite upset. And she had good reason to be.

It was the third time that week alone, he had been involved in a major scuffle, which left him half dead.

"I was not picking fights Doc." He replied, averting eye contact. "I was fighting back, and standing up for myself!"

She knew there were thousands of other kids going through the same thing as him.

But she felt even more sympathetic towards Quill, because he reminded her of her little brother.

Despite that however, she believed it was necessary for him to come to terms with his reality.

"So? Look at where fighting back has gotten you thus far!" She exclaimed. "The Hierarchy Scheme has been in effect long before you and I were even born! Do you think fighting a few of the Gifted within this Institute alone, will change anything?!"

Quill knew she was right. But he hated the fact that his life was predetermined at birth. Shackled by an inescapable fate.

"Not once, have I ever cursed being born Ungifted!" He exclaimed. "Aren't I entitled to lead my own life as I see fit, despite that?!"

She looked at him feeling empathetic, as she had seen the same thing happen to others, countless times before.

"I know its hard Quill." She said reassuringly. "But trust me, it gets better."

***

[A month earlier.]

A boy, seemingly 16-17 years old walked out of a cryptic looking room. And entered a large-hollow hallway.

His scarlet-red eyes were barely visible, as his neck-long brown locks covered most of his face.

A chill run down his spine, as his bare feet touched the cold-bristly metallic floor.

His gaze slowly drifted around the hallway, presumably searching for signs of life.

Until suddenly;

"Congratulations Quill." A voice said. "You have passed the test, and will now be integrated into the Hierarchy Scheme!"

Startled by the loud voice, he instinctively covered his ears, and attempted to back up--only, to his dismay, he noticed the entrance to the room was shut.

Or more precisely, it vanished! Leaving behind only a wall. As if, it was never there at all.

Recalling his earlier resolve, he took a deep breath, calmed his breathing, and then took a few steps forward.

A deafening silence engulfed the room, as the voice he heard earlier uttered no other words.

'Quill? The voice addressed me as Quill, right? Is that really my name? Isn't a quill nothing more than a feather?' He thought. 'Should I say something back? More importantly, what test?'

Riddled with uncertainty, he gulped, and attempted to initiate contact with the voice.

"Q-Quill? Is that my name?!" He asked aloud. "And what test? How am I to be integrated into the Hierarchy Scheme?!"

The urgency in his tone of voice was fairly evident. For so long--he was all alone; with only the voice in his head to talk to. But at that moment, for the first time in his life, someone had spoken to him, and possibly called him by his own name?

A few seconds passed, and he grew anxious at the silence befalling the room, as the voice still did not reply, until--

"Yes, that is correct. Your name is Quill West." The voice replied. "As for the latter part of your question, the answer is of no importance to you!"

As if overcome by emotion, Quill tilted his head upward, and faced the old rusty railings of the roof. Causing his long brown locks to fall backwards; exposing his fair face and scarlet-red eyes.

'Quill…West' He thought. 'That is my name…I have a name!'

An unfamiliar tinge could be felt as Quill's eyes went blurry with liquid forming in them and descending down his face.

'Huh? Are these…tears?' He thought 'Am I crying?'

He read once in a book, that humans cried when overcome by certain emotions. Pain, happiness, grief, anger--the lot.

'What emotion am I overcome with?' He thought. 'Anger? Grief? Happiness? Perhaps frustration?'

Yet, he also remembered how the same book mentioned one important principle; 'Men do not cry!'

He assumed that to be true, as never before that moment had he ever cried.

Suddenly he started laughing.

"Pfft…I suppose a woman wrote that book." Quill muttered, as if trying to distract himself from what he was feeling. 'Men cry too!'

***

*Click *Click *Tap *Tap

In a separate room somewhere, a man with sandy-blonde hair, and dark bags under his eyes, wearing a lab coat, was tying away hysterically at his keyboard.

He spun around excitedly, in his chair. For some reason, he couldn't contain the grin that formed on his face.

On the monitor before him, was live video feed, of a certain hallway. In the video, a boy with neck-long brown hair could be seen laughing, while wiping tears off of his face.

'Fascinating…Is it laughing?!' The man thought. 'Such fine mannerisms and individuality!'

"I haven't seen the evil grin in a while." A feminine voice said. "What's got my favorite genius all riled up?"

As the man looked back, a tall brunette with luscious looking lips and piercing dark brown eyes stared at him intently.

Humming to some incoherent tune, she had a slight smile on her face, as she randomly rolled her eyes around the room. Seemingly attempting to find out what piqued the man's interest—

"Oh…It's just you." The man replied, as he looked away. "I thought we went over this Racheal, remember why they invented doors? It's so people can knock!"

She was about to snap back at him, but then gasped, as she saw what was on his monitor.

"Is that him?!" She asked. "I've heard so much about him! I forgot the integration was today!"

The man looked back, still somewhat annoyed by her sudden intrusion, but he chose to ignore it. He was in such a great mood, that not even 'she' could ruin it.

"Yes Racheal." He replied, as he sighed. "It shall be integrated later today."

With a puzzled expression on her face, she looked at him as if caught unaware.

'It?' She thought.

However, she knew better than to ask why he referred to the boy that way.

'Out of 3,546 subjects, it was the only one to pass the test.' The man thought. 'I look forward to seeing how it progresses once integrated. Will it make it? Or will it not? Either way, this will be quite fascinating!'