Untold Deception

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Untold Deception Page 10

by William Staikos


  All I could do was peer out at the city through the leaves. It was lit up with oil lamps above the streets. Most were identically crammed brick buildings. The only way to tell location was from the signs. I could spot five signs facing the forest in the distance. They read Troyes General Store, Cheap Haircuts, Steakhouse Bar and Grill, Affordable Clothes, and Phil’s Furniture.

  Which building should I choose? I only had time to steal from one of them. The general store would be useful for supplies, but it was bigger. There might more people there. Furniture and haircuts were obviously useless. The Steakhouse bar and grill would be nice if I had money, but it could be useful later if I’m able to steal some food. The open window showed very few people inside. None of them were guards. Looking down, I realized that they knew me because of my clothing and, of course, my single arm stood out.

  I decided that disguising my appearance was of the utmost importance. Plus, the guards would expect a kid to run as far away possible anyway. I checked the clothing store from the clearing. The shopkeeper was closing the blinds for the windows. He was a Human and most importantly, he was alone. It was a perfect opportunity.

  I slowly climbed down the tree, keeping my eye on him. I cut across to the alley behind the clothing store. Scanning the area, the coast seemed clear. As soon as I heard the door open, I charged around the corner and punched the man in the chin, knocking him out. Quickly, I dragged him inside and shut the door behind me. My night vision kicked in. Finally, I had caught a break! I grabbed some clothes to tie the man up and gag him. I learned how to tie knots for hunting, so there was no way he was getting out of my hogtie.

  Sifting through the clothes, a black hoodie caught my attention. So, I put it on. I found some track pants. I changed my socks as they were soaked from the river. The black shoes would be covered up by my jeans anyway. I put the hood over my head. When I looked in the mirror, a regular person stared back at me through the reflection. Then I took my right hand and put it in my front hoodie pockets.

  The disguise I chose worked well. I grabbed some other clothes to cover up the wound on my arm. My battery was very low and being mortal in my situation made me vulnerable. I was lucky enough to knock out the clothing store clerk. I pulled out the bottom of the cash register with my aura. The machine gave in to the force, and the organizer popped out, revealing 400 gold coins. I found a pencil and, with difficulty, wrote out this note with my left hand:

  ‘Sorry, but I needed this and can’t pay up. I am forever in your debt.’

  I threw this on top of the tied-up man, who remained unconscious. I discarded all my other clothes in the garbage. Going to the back, I found a small bag for my mother’s flute, Mr. Finch’s knife, and the note. So now I had some options. I could risk the general store but it was now closed, and I couldn’t get in without smashing the glass.

  The bar was also good for food. I took the key and walked casually out the door, making sure to check both ways. I decided that I needed food desperately. That squirrel wasn’t filling. Passing by the bar, I gazed inside. I hid my invisible hand in my pocket. There was a bartender shining glasses, an old man with a beard in a suit, and a couple of girls. One of them was a Caltron; the other a Minyades. There were no guards, so it seemed like the coast was clear.

  I walked in and stared. The old man and the two girls seemed to be smiling. Both girls wore identical turtlenecks. Odd they would choose grey turtlenecks. Those were a style my mom had back when she was a kid. They were a weird group. I took a seat at the bar, reached into my pocket and pulled out 15 coins. I should start off with a drink despite my hunger.

  “Get me some milk please,” I said.

  The bartender smiled and passed me some milk. One of the girls walked over to me. She was the Caltron with white hair and bright blue eyes. A lot of Caltrons are extremely good looking. I glanced over at the Caltron..

  “Hey, what brings you here tonight?” she asked.

  She stumbled the nub I hid in my front pocket; it startled me. She seemed to have slipped accidentally. It was just an ordinary conversation so far.

  “I am...” I drifted off momentarily, trying to think of a lie for a name. I quickly surveyed the area and saw a Jonas Beer label on the shelf. “...Jonas.”

  “Nice to meet you, Jonas. Why are you here at 2:30 in the morning?”

  “I could ask you the same question.”

  She smiled smile and looked at the old man who was leaning closer to me. She turned back to me. The old man started to tap the desk for another glass.

  The Caltron gestured to him, “He’s my grandfather, and he likes to drink here.”

  Odd that he took care of a Caltron. A Caltron is part of the Axis Alliance though. The old man stood up and staggered over closer to me. My attention was entirely on him.

  “We should have a toast stranger,” he said

  I had to fit in, so I agreed.

  “Cheers!” I raised my glass, and it clinked with his whiskey. I downed the whole drink. The milk tasted bitter…it must have gone bad.

  “This milk doesn’t taste too good, bartender; could I please get another…”

  I dropped the glass from my left hand, and it smashed on the floor. My movements had become slower, and the room was spinning. My vision became blurry. I stood up to leave; I can’t pass out here. Not now.

  “You fell for it kid.” sneered the old man.

  When I turned around, the two girls avoided my gaze. The bartender had the same sickly smile as the old man. I activated my aura and tried to run, but I could barely move. It was a nightmare where the creature runs at you, but you can’t get away. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I fell to the ground. I saw the group of them glaring down at me.

  “Leave me alone,” I tried to say, but no words escaped my lips. My body went numb, and the room fell into darkness.

  7- My Struggle

  “Because to take away a man's freedom of choice, even his freedom to make the wrong choice, is to manipulate him as though he were a puppet and not a person.”

  ― Madeleine L'Engle

  My vision slowly queued into my surroundings. I felt a throbbing pain from the back of my head. The room and bed I was in were bright white. Was this a hospital? When I raised my arms up, I could see both hands. One hand was metallic and had small yellow marks around the fingertips. The arm could rotate and moved as fast the other one.

  The hand startled me. Who gave me this? Where am I?

  My right eye functioned as well as my left.

  Had my vision returned? How long was I unconscious?

  I slowly tried to get up, but there was a needle in my other arm. I ripped it out. Something wasn’t right. I stood up to walk around; there were three separate beds with closed curtains. The floor was tiled and cold to the touch. The room was lit up with electric lights that glowed white. I noticed I was in a hospital gown. When I looked up, there was a doctor with a clipboard. He seemed very serious. He had jet black hair and some space between his teeth. When he peered over his clipboard, he smiled.

  “Ah, Salan. Good for you to wake up. You've been unconscious for about four weeks now. I was getting tired of changing your IV bag.”

  “Four weeks?!”

  “That arm and eye took some time to fix, and I had to operate as quickly as possible,” explained the doctor.

  “Where are my clothes? Where am I?”

  “You are in the Mulciber facility. We specialize in Abundans like you reaching their full potential.”

  He walked over to a white desk and held up a mirror. My other eye had a scar on it and was bright blue. I glanced at my new hand. It had a skeletal-like structure with moving pistons. There was a metallic cap on the nub of my arm. The overall arm was enclosed to the cap. At the forearm, ‘01’ had been painted in black. Each time I moved a finger, I could see a spring move back on my wrist.

  The doctor looked into my eyes and began to speak. “Your right eye needed a new lens and the cornea needed to be replaced. Your Abundan ca
pabilities healed the tissue, but the cut you had was deep. The eye lens itself needed a synthetic replacement for sight. The lens is a light blue, and with your green eyes creates cyan. That’s why your eyes are different colors. Both are expensive prototypes, and you're lucky to have them. The arms interior is coated in Abundenium. It allows your aura to be trapped, so the arm can move. The knuckles and fingertips have small holes for your aura to escape. This is so you can attack with your right arm. You also have a barcode on your left forearm to access your room.”

  I didn’t want to be in debt to anyone but what choice did I have? I opened my mouth to argue but stopped myself. My mother instructed me to use my brain not my emotions in these situations. They have high-tech equipment here, who knows what they can do. Better play it safe.

  “Thank you. I was on the run for so long, and I didn’t know who to turn to.”

  “I’m glad you enjoy these gifts so much. This facility works on prosthetic prototypes, and I helped with the installation of your arm. I mostly crafted the eye lens,” he smirked with pride.

  “What now?”

  The doctor’s expression quickly became more serious. “This stuff doesn’t come free. I need you to be obedient. We can help you become an excellent Abundan.”

  I didn’t trust him, but I also don’t have enough information to rebel.

  I shrugged, “Seems fair.”

  The doctor smiled. I slowly stood back up and adjusted the patient gown.

  “Good. Then I’ll have you tour the facility. My name is Doctor Mengel, for future reference.”

  There were two rectangular-glass containers. One held a bunch of white mice; another had black insect creatures. They had two long antennas with many legs along the body. The glass tank was filled with water, and each of the insect’s legs had small fins. The bigger insects had smaller one’s cling to their upper back.

  “Why do you keep these animals in tanks?” I asked.

  “It’s better to experiment on animals for medical research than people.”

  Guess he was right, at least they were fed. Part of me believed that animals should be free, but I held my tongue for now.

  Right beside the exit was a black monitor with green writing. There was a keyboard that looked like the typewriters I had seen in the past. Also, there were some white boxes with blinking lights on them. Seraculus had called them ‘cameras.’ When we walked outside the room, the doctor went around the corner.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “I have tests to do, so Cassiella here will take you on the tour.”

  He touched a button near the wall. There were holes in the metal where a voice came out. The doctor’s voice echoed throughout the large white hallways to each one of these devices.

  “Cassiella, please report to the doctor’s office. Salan is awake.”

  He took his finger off the button, and we went back inside. Within a minute, a female with white hair and blue eyes walked through the door. It was the Caltron who talked to me at the bar.

  I pointed to her, “I remember you!”

  As I started to remember what happened with the glass of milk, I took a step back.

  An important question came to me. “Why did you drug me?”

  Cassiella looked at me with sympathy. “It’s not that we wanted to, but we had to take precautions that you would come quietly.”

  If they were so concerned, why resort to such measures? However, they gave me a hand, a working eye, and now I didn’t have to run away from guards. My thoughts were distracted by Cassiella’s collar that had a red blinking light attached.

  “What is that?” I asked, pointing to the device.

  “The same as the one inside your arm. It's at the base of the nub. There’s an electric receptor installed that will initiate if you use force,” Dr. Mengel joined the conversation.

  ‘This must be a precaution against me going rogue,’ I thought.

  Cassiella seemed to be impatient; she started tapping her foot to change the subject. “Follow me,” she said.

  She seemed a bit older, maybe 18 or 19. She wore a black military outfit with holes in the back for her wings. I stuck close to her, walking through the white hallways. They had black lines with numbers beside each doorframe. There were also several of those announcement devices the doctor used. A white camera was at the corner of each long hallway. They were always watching. I felt uneasy.

  “Where are my clothes?” I asked.

  “You mean the ones you stole from the clothing store?”

  “You saw me do that?”

  “No, we just knew there was no way after you escaped the hanging that you owned those clothes. We untied the store clerk, who was unconscious. We were looking for you. The leader of this facility picks out young kids and trains them to become stronger. Kids who have the gift, and he teaches us like a parent.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “To strengthen our natural power.”

  “But what does he gain from this?”

  “The satisfaction of helping others.”

  This statement didn’t seem very plausible, but at least I wasn’t fighting for my life.

  “Just so you know, any attacks against this facility, verbal or physical, is a violation. These speakers are here for people to contact higher authorities,” said Cassiella.

  “A very annoying classmate I had would love this technology.”

  We both kept walking through the hallways. Everything was painted white, and many labeled corridors branched off every corner.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “To your room: A-7. It has all the things you need. All your items are there from when they stripped you of your clothes.”

  The thought of my clothes being stripped hadn’t occurred to me. It made me feel violated, so I made a joke to mask my emotions.

  “Wait! What kind of perverts are you people?”

  She shot me a cold stare that could cut stone.

  “Lighten up; I was just joking.”

  Cassiella walked up to a metallic door. It had similar material to the golden swords that the royal guards used to kill Abundans. Bold black lettering was on the wall with A-7 marked above it. How much money was put into this place?

  “Here is your room,” said Cassiella. She swiped her barcode, and the light above the door went from red to green.

  “Why do you have access to my room?” I asked.

  “In case you decide to skip practice.”

  Inside the room everything was white. ‘A-7’ was written on the wall above the bed. Mr. Finch’s knife, wooden throwing knives, and my mother’s flute were on the bedsheets. I ran up and grabbed the flute. I took comfort in knowing it was safe. The note she left me was also on the bed. There was a giant window beside the door, allowing me to see out into the hallway from inside my room. There was a drawer for clothes and a clock beside the bed. Everything was tidy and spacious, but it gave off a feeling of hollowness.

  “What’s with all of the white anyway?” I asked.

  “It’s the mark of purity and innocence,” recited Cassiella.

  “This place looks like a hospital to me.” Mr. Finch’s knife raised a question, “Why return my weapons? How do you know to trust me with them?”

  “I’m glad you mentioned that. There are scanners on each item. If they leave the room, the facility will go to red alert. They are just for keepsakes. They must stay in your room.”

  “How much does this place cost? Who funds this facility?”

  “The Leader is a very wealthy man and stated that children don’t need to know about a parent’s finances. They should worry about bettering themselves as a soldier.”

  “Who is the Leader? What’s his name?”

  “He doesn’t say his name; we only know him as Leader. He was the man you drank with at the bar.”

  A nice way of phrasing drugged. This wasn’t exactly what I wanted for a home. I saw an adjacent bathroom. It had a sink, toilet, and a shower. Al
l of it was, of course, white. I came back from inspecting the washroom.

  Cassiella grimaced, “Get dressed and meet me outside.”

  I opened the white drawer to find a black military uniform, the same as Cassiella’s. There were seven pairs of clothes. I put on the shirt with pouches, the pants, along with gloves and socks. I found military shoes inside the drawer as well. After I suited up, I glanced in the mirror. It had leather padding and was flexible, not a bad style. While I was there I inspected my eye; it was bright blue. It even dilated differently. One pupil had a downward slit while the new one stayed circular. The iris itself was more colorful at the center and had a golden tinge. Lifting my shirt, I stared at the 20 lashes. They had healed but left massive scars. I looked out the window, Cassiella stared back at me.

  Her arms were crossed, “It’s almost time for our daily meeting. You don’t want to be late for that.”

  As I left the room, I turned around and noticed a white blinking box. The cameras watched us, even in our rooms. My body shivered as I realized what that meant. It wasn’t just the hallways. Why would they need constant surveillance? There was a small square ventilation hole beside each camera. I found this odd, for what purpose do they serve? We walked for a bit in silence. The light on Cassiella’s collar drew my attention.

  “Is that collar the reason you wore that dorky turtleneck?” I asked.

  Cassiella seemed a bit embarrassed by that comment. “It wasn’t my decision to wear it! The collar on my neck is for disciplinary actions for an Abundan.”

  “Why did he choose to put it in my arm?”

  “When I asked him why, he said, ‘A metallic arm can do more damage than a knife, it’s important that the electricity deactivates the arm first.’”

  That answers one of my questions, but I still had many to take its place.

  “If you trust this Leader like a parent, why would we need shock collars?”

  “He’s Human; it’s just a precaution. What if someone threw a tantrum? He would be defenseless.”

 

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