Befriending Pinkamena (Revamped)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5...
>You begin to count the spots on the speckled concrete wall again.
6, 7..
>You should not have spoken up. You should have just been an obedient guard and followed your orders.
11, 12, 13..
>You knew the rules about containment procedure. No subjects are allowed out of their cells unless it is given access by someone with higher authority.

57, 58..
>You get it. Anything here should be treated with caution. Ethics and morals do not merge well with science and experimentation. Emotion is the hindrance of scientific progress.
>.. but still..

64, 65..
>Lowly guards should just be on hand to make sure everything goes smoothly, and to prevent any possible outbreaks. They should think what is best for the safety of the association, not for any individual.

66, 67..
>You were going to die soon.
..


>You are awakened by the sound of banging metal.
>"Prisoner A-734! Hands behind your back, and do not make sudden movements."
>You comply with the orders and place your hands on your lower back, pressing the backs against the orange fabric of your orange coveralls.
>A sharp metallic click is heard, and the door slides open. The figure blocks most of the light from the hallway, but a little escapes past its form and shines into your bare, tiny cell.
>The guard was wearing the uniform required by all armed personnel. The boots were thick and resilient, and the fabric of the uniform was tough and spotless. A helmet covered the head, with a chin strap for support.

>The most jarring about the man was he was completely white from head to toe. Even the barrel of the gun pointed at your head was the color of snow.
>He pushed you to your knees, and cuffed your hands behind your back.
>"Prisoner A-734, you are under orders to come into cell D-86."
>The guard speaks harshly, and with gruffness in his voice.
>He throws you into the lit hallway, and orders your to follow. Another guard follows up behind you, weapon in arm.
What is in --
>"You do not have permission to speak 734! Shut up and keep your head level!"
>You close your mouth and do as you are told.
>The death march continues through the turns of the hallways, passing through rooms that felt familiar, and winding paths that were not.
>Eventually, they stopped you next to a large bolted door. The red hazard sign on it was plastered on the front.
>..Oh no..

>You don't think that you want to know what was in there.
>"Prisoner A-734 is present and at the gate. The door is clear and ready to be opened."
>The guard in rear spoke into his headset.
>You started to break into a sweat. The beads of water rolled down your back, making the white undershirt cling to your skin, and your palms became damp, which you curled into fists.
>You saw the lock on the gate slowly turn and unclamp the two halves, letting them slowly roll open.
>A kick from behind sent your face flying into the polished floor and you felt your head crack against the hard surface.
Son of a..
>You saw stars dance inside of your shut eyes, and shook your head to recollect your self. The sound of metal clanging behind you combined with the decrease in lighting told you that the door was shut behind you. Another gate was in front of you.

>Your heart rate started to increase at an alarming rate. You kneel over and put your hands on your knees trying to calm yourself down.
>A double gate. There is something serious inside of that cell.
>The crackling of an intercom gets your attention.
>"Prisoner A-734. You have been ordered to come into this cell. Your task is to calm and accompany subject # P-413. You are not to aggravate or harm the subject. You are not allowed to leave the room until authorized to do so. Do NOT provoke the subject for it can, and will, kill.
>You feel sick. You have officially been demoted to the lowest rank.
>You hear the turnover rate is high in these positions.

Why the hell should I go in there? And what is this subject?
>"734, this is not an option. You will go into the cell, and calm and accompany subject P-413. The information on the subject is classified."

>The metal gate is unclamped, and the halves are slowly rolled open. You force yourself to breathe deeply, and turn towards the cell, the metal on your cuffs cutting into your skin.
>The room was completely white, with no windows or any noticeable light source. It was hard to make out the depth and shape of the room with how monochromatic the place was.

>There is no one in here.
>You walk into the center of the cell and look around.
>Is this some kind of joke? Some trick?
>The rolling gate snaps shut behind you, which causes you to turn around.

>There is someone in here.

>It was a girl.
>Not just any girl. She was the most beautiful girl you've ever met.
>her eyes were a bright sky blue, and she had long, pink hair that hung down all the way to her thighs. She was wearing a t-shirt that cut off a little above her waist, which exposed her soft white stomach. It looked like her bust was attempting to explode out of her tight shirt, which was mostly hidden by her folded arms. Her short shorts where covering her lower half, with her slender legs sprouting out.
>You felt the blood in your cheeks making your face warm, trying to compose yourself.
>The only unsettling part about her was the death glare that she was directing at you since you first noticed her.

>You clear your throat, your brain trying to find words to form a cohesive sentence.
H-hey.
>Your vocal chords refused to stay steady.
>You feel a wave of rationality come to you.
>This girl looked like she wanted to slit your throat.
>You take a few steps back, gaining some distance between the two of you.
>Why was she in here? Why is she in such a secure cell?
>..what is she capable of?

>You decide to take the initiative. You need to try To calm her down. You start over.
Hey, my name is Anonymous, Anon for short. I was kind of.. thrown in here. I don't want any trouble, and I am just here to talk. What's your name?

>She grabs the collar of your coveralls and looks you dead in the eye. You didn't even see her move close to you, she was just there directly in front of you. She was a head shorter than you, which forced you to kneel down to meet her glare.
>"Listen "Anon". I don't like you. I really, really HATE you. We are not going to be friends. I hate everyone here, especially you. I HATE you."

>She lets go of your collar and you stagger back. You keep taking steps away from her until you feel your cuffs making contact with the wall. You slide your back down and sit down pulling your knees up to your chest, not looking away from the girl.
>You were locked in a room with a girl that wishes you were dead. You were sleeping with your eyes open from now on.