One by one, fluorescent lights lit up all around the room.
The creature twitched slightly. Its whitish-gray arms were stretched out to the sides, exposing the chest as it weakly inhaled and exhaled. Its long, bony legs were pulled downwards, preventing it from moving. Its head hung limply down.
On the other side of the invisible wall of secured glass, a door opened. The creature looked up with difficulty as a man in a white coat and a human girl stepped inside; then it dropped its head again, too weak to keep it up.
“Wow!” the girl exclaimed. “Is that Mewtwo?”
Her childish voice echoed in the creature’s head. It twitched again.
“Not so loud, Mary,” her father whispered.
“All right,” she responded in the same tone. The girl looked up at the creature for a while. It raised its head again, its blank, colorless eyes meeting her big, deep green ones.
“He’s kinda cute,” the girl announced after a few seconds, breaking her eye contact with the creature and looking back up at the man. The creature twitched slightly yet again.
“Cute?” asked the man strangely, looking at the creature through the glass. He couldn’t see anything cute about it – in fact, he found it very unattractive. The skeletal look of the starved body, the bulgy fingers and toes, the ghostly gray, bloodstained color of the skin – it was hideous.
“Yeah, he’s cute,” said the girl decisively, looking at the creature again. She pointed at its ribs one at a time, counting them slowly to herself. A few seconds passed before she turned around again and made another comment:
“Daddy, I think he’s hungry.”
The creature stared emptily at the flood of whitish-blond hair that flowed down her back.
“I know, Mary,” said her father, cringing slightly as he glanced at the disgusting, hanging skin. “If we fed it, it would become too powerful to keep it here. It would escape.”
The girl nodded absent-mindedly, satisfied with the explanation despite not fully understanding it. She pressed her face against the glass and ran her eyes across the strong, black chains that held the creature in place. It looked up into her eyes again.
“Daddy, why is he hanging in those chains?” she asked without looking away. The creature’s wrists and ankles bled near the shackles, matting them with dark red.
“Just further security,” said the father with an attempted smile. “We don’t want it to physically break out, and even though technically it should be too weak to do anything, there’s no knowing when those Psychic Pokémon will surprise you. It’s always best to be safe.”
The girl and the creature looked into each other’s eyes for a while. The father was starting to stir impatiently, looking around.
“You know,” the girl started slowly, still staring into the creature’s eyes, “I don’t think it’s fun, hanging like that.”
The man forced himself to look at the creature. It was still trying to manage eye contact with the girl; just from straining against the weight of its head, its whole body was sweating, smearing the blood stains around. He looked away in disgust, puzzled by his daughter’s sympathy.
“It’s not supposed to be fun, Mary,” he said finally, his voice trembling. “Mewtwo is dangerous. We have to do this.”
“I don’t think he’s dangerous,” the girl said. “I think he’s cute.”
Her father looked away. He couldn’t tell her that Mewtwo had attempted to wipe out mankind to free Pokémon. It would scare her. Or even get crazy ideas into her head.
Yes, he told himself, the world was better when Mewtwo was chained in a secured chamber to die.
“Mewtwo…” the girl sang slowly, smiling to the creature in a friendly manner. Her father started; for a crazy moment he thought he saw it smile weakly back.
“You’re not dangerous, no matter what anybody says,” she stated. “You’re just my cute little Mewtwo. I’ll take care of you.”
Her father shivered as she said those words. “We… we’d better get going,” he muttered, grabbing his daughter’s shoulder and pulling her away from the glass. The creature’s eyes followed the girl’s as the man took his daughter’s hand and led her hurriedly towards the door. She lifted a hand and waved doubtfully to the creature as she stood in the doorway; all it could do in return was staring into her eyes until the door slammed shut, separating the two.
The lights shut off one after another. As the last one flickered, the creature’s head dropped down again, its forehead sweating from the sheer effort of keeping it up.
The chains rattled in the darkness.