by Alex Fall
"A little?" Her voice barely said.
My god, was that sarcasm? From Sharon? "Either way, I'm still not going to hurt you. And you can touch my stuff, just...ask me first."
She peered from around the corner of the furniture to see me. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face tearstained.
"It’s still early. Do you want to sleep in here?" I asked.
Upon her slight nod, I returned to gather the things I had scattered from my pack and the food that Sharon desperately desired. I figured that I was now under watch by the guards. I also figured I couldn't really leave Sharon on her own now. However, on a more immediate note, I wasn't sure how or if I would be able to sleep tonight. If only I had sleep meds…
* * *
A drop of sweat collected on my forehead and ran down the side of my face. My breathing was deep and my body was trying to cool off. The rigorous training left me fatigued and their treatment kept me angry. THEY watched from behind the one way mirrors near the top of the large training room I was in. But today was different. Today, there was a visitor.
An older army man in uniform stepped in with a large escort of guards. The guards halted just upon entering the room, but the older man strode up to me. I brought my wide stance to a more normal standing position but refused to take up any formal military stance. I had stubbornly refused long enough that THEY knew it to be pointless to force me to try. Nonetheless, the man stood in front of me and slightly to my right. I stared straight ahead, avoiding eye contact. If I stared at him too long, THEY would see the hatred and vengeance that I've worked so hard to mask. Even still, I noted the decorated uniform befitting his rank, and the blocky face paired with graying brown hair. Wrinkles, wide eyes, sun seared skin, scar where a mole had been removed between his right eye and right ear, his face was already committed to memory.
"What are you?" The older man asked.
"Project De'mus, program extension Erin," I replied automatically.
The man looked down his nose at me out of curiosity. "What's your name?"
"Project De'mus, program extension Erin."
"What's your real name?"
"Project De'mus, program extension Erin." I left no delay in my answers.
The officer smirked with a sort of satisfaction. He patted me on the shoulder as he passed by with a simple reply. "Good girl."
A sneer of hatred tried to reveal itself on my face, but I forced it to be hidden. It was the twitch in my left eye that slipped out despite me masking myself. I kept facing forward, not moving until I was alone.
The officer met with his escort and began talking to some project De'mus overseers about the impressive results and progress he'd seen. He then commented that the burns on "the program" were very unsightly and concerning, and inquired if anything could be done about it. As he and the other soldiers left, his final remark that my ears picked up was the term "adjustments." I knew what that meant: more torture. My anger collected inside me until I felt close to being sick.
"Erin De'mus? That's where your name comes from?" Asked a familiar voice over the intercom.
I looked up at the one way mirrors and the rage took over my face. The only thing I saw in the reflection was "the program." The only thing I saw was myself. So hideous...
I turned away and looked back at the ground.
"Now I see why you're so angry..." Fake Arty's voice continued.
"Took you long enough..."
"So what ever happened to that officer?"
"His name was Kyle Davis. After the...THEY fell, I hunted him down for his crimes against humanity."
"And by crimes against humanity, you mean personal vengeance?"
I chose not to answer the question, even though it was true.
"How did it make you feel when you killed him?" Fake Arty asked.
Where was he going with this question? I just looked to the ground and breathed some anger from my nose. "Satisfied," I replied.
"No it didn't. You're still angry to this day."
"Yes it did! And that's just how they made me."
"Erin...may I come in?"
Sitting down on a mat, I shook my head and said "No."
"Please? I know how you don't like talking to mirrors."
Good point. I glanced up at the terrible mirrors. My reflection prompted to look away again, so I nodded slightly and wiped my brow. Fake Arty entered the room from the same door that the guards left, quietly came in, and sat next to me but still respected my personal distance.
After a moment of sobering silence, he continued. "So you forgot your real name, and now your automatic response is that you are Program Extension Erin?"
"Of Project De'mus."
"Then why did you start telling people here that you are Sapphire Eyes?"
I shook my head and shrugged. "Because I wanted to make myself kind of a legend. I didn't want my real name known. Why are you questioning me so much?"
"To get you to think. I know how much a smart girl like you likes to do that." His slight smirk irritated me. "Why Sapphire Eyes?"
"That's what Ellie called me the first time she saw me. I guess I liked it...oh, and in case you forgot, Ellie is your wife!"
Fake Arty held up his hands. "Geez, no need for sarcasm. Why not just call yourself Project De'mus?"
"Absolutely not."
"That's why you're angry. You’re appalled at the idea that you are program, not a person."
My anger that had been simmering down, woke back up. I sent the death stare at Fake Arty. His next statement set my anger aflame.
"Well they succeeded. You are a weapon."
"What?!"
"Why else would you hit and kill people without question? Isn't it because you've been programmed to think that way?"
Fury! So much anger but now I can't do anything about it! He's right, I hate the idea of being a program, but if I hit him then I prove that THEY succeeded. All I could do was keep my head down and seethe.
"I know that you aren't a weapon. You are human person." He scooted closer as he continued. "I can see past all the bad things and you know what I see?"
"...what?" I asked nearly inaudibly.
"That you are an interesting and beautiful young girl."
A knot formed in my stomach. I had so much anger! But now it was mixing with confusion, and even a tinge of gladness. What the *cuss* is my mind trying to tell me? "I'm not beautiful..."
"You're going to wake up soon....how is Sharon?"
"...I yelled at her."
Arty looked at me from under his brow, with that slight smirk on his face. "Why'd you do that?"
Why was I embarrassed to admit this? "Because she gave my drugs away for food and..I'm kind of addicted to them."
"Has she been eating enough?"
"I don't know. Apparently not..."
"It's ok Erin. Keep in mind that they tricked her into getting your stuff. Try to take better-"
My eyes opened, adding a little more blue to the world. I got little over an hour's worth of sleep, which by the way, I spent tossing and turning. As my senses returned, only one thing was on my mind.
I feel terrible...
Because I needed medicine to sleep, the only thing I could find was a small bottle of benadryl from a first aid kit. The half a bottle was enough to let me sleep, though the nightmares followed me all the way, and now my body feels terrible for taking way too much benadryl. Not having enough sleep wasn't helping me feel better either. I need water, a lot of water.
Sharon slept in the bed with me, but this time she wasn't nestled like she usually was. I imagine she was still afraid. I need to get up, I have to keep training regardless of how I feel....but I feel terrible.
The next few days dragged on, training in the morning, exploring and scrounging for food the rest of the days, and meeting Fake Arty every night in my dreams. I began to get accustomed to having him in my dreams, because for whatever reason as long as he was there, I wouldn't have night terrors. Through the days I also worked on
gaining back Sharon's trust, because it served as a protection for her to be with me. Often I would spend time observing other ring fighters, the guards, the medics and so on. Apparently the gang is referred to as The Feeders. Where the name comes from I don't yet know. I realized they were feeding me less than I need, and more so for Sharon, so after much threatening and a few carried out threats, the cooks learned to give me the food I want. Also, I snuck a new bottle of sleep pills after trailing an inexperienced nurse for a bit. And because the first nurse insisted on not giving me some form of sleep medicine, I struck her in the other eye.
I discovered that Rod and his cronies were very curious about the things I kept in my pack. They had tried to steal my things the day they took my sedatives, but Sharon mustered the bravery to steal it back. That was why she was holding my pack when she came running to me that morning. Now I have to bring both my pack and Sharon with me pretty much everywhere I go.
No doubt my insubordinate nature was brewing some disdain among those that viewed themselves to be in charge. I needed to practice here on my seventh day of healing, but to track progress, I needed to do something that would only make the disdain grow (and also remind everyone else to back off.)
In the morning, I wandered in and out of hallways and through the main halls. People eyed me curiously, but no one really addressed me beyond that. Good for them. After wandering for a bit, Sharon close behind me, I found myself enter a smaller room with a pool table near the main gambling hall. There were four young people, two guys and two girls, hanging out here, and again, they eyed me curiously when I entered. However, this time one of them decided to address me.
"You Sapphire Eyes?" Asked guy one. He was the shorter of the males, though more broad. He wore mostly black, a lazy combination of slimmer jeans and an oversized black hoodie. His power wasn't discernable as of yet.
"Of course she is, look at her." The girl that responded was slim and fit, though she wore loose sweatpants and a sweater type shirt colored with a horrible combination of blue and pink stripes. Unknown power also...
"Hey, what do you want?" The other guy spoke. Taller and less built, though underneath his strange canvas material green jacket, there was some unnatural bulk. This one was a Bolt.
"Get out of my way," I replied, forcefully bumping shoulders with the girl who had yet to speak. I made it look as if I was headed to a nearby bar. Sharon stopped with my pack at the doorway, afraid to mix company with everyone.
"Whoa, who you think you are?" The blue and pink girl said. She grabbed my arm with unnatural strength. She was a Brute.
I hid a smile. Yes, keep the aggression coming. Give me an excuse to practice on you all...
"You said it yourself. I'm Sapphire Eyes."
"That's supposed to mean something?"
"Yes. That means I'm better than you."
The four of them chuckled and the Bolt stood up to me. "You think that just cause you're a burn that you're better than us?"
"And you imagine that just because you're some haughty, stubby nosed kids that managed to get into a gang that you're better than me?"
"You know there's four of us," the quiet girl finally said. "You actually looking for trouble?"
I glared at her. She seemed to be the most intelligent one in the room. "Are you offering?"
"Sapphire?" Sharon asked nervously. I held up a finger to silence her.
"You're just one-" Guy one began to say.
Challenge accepted.
Quite frankly, I didn't care if they intended to fight or act tough. I needed to practice, and I started by raising the arm that the Brute girl was still holding onto and landed my heel into her side. Unfortunately, my wounded leg wasn't ready yet and it gave in when I landed the kick, so both me and the Brute hit the ground, though with distance between us now.
"What the?" One of them shouted.
The other three Greaters jumped to their feet. I spun and took out the Bolt’s feet, catching him with a propped elbow as he came down. Now they see that I'm not joking, but do not yet discern that I'm just toying with them. I rolled underneath the pool table to avoid being stomped by the shorter male (who was also a Brute.) Upon getting to my feet, I ducked a swinging pool cue that the quiet girl wielded. I came up, elbow bashed her head, grabbed the stick she still held and yanked her close enough to open palm her face, leaving her on the ground and the pool cue in my hands. I spun the stick around and cracked the Bolt's hand before he could act. This stick doesn't work well for a staff, due to its lack of balance. The female brute jumped the table to get me, but I broke the pool stick over her back and sidestepped as I shoved her into the wall.
Great, the quiet girl is a Tank. As she scrambled to her feet, I shattered another section of the stick across her face, giving me at least 2.3 seconds to act on the male brute. I simply chucked the remaining part of the handle at him, but he had the finesse to dodge. We lunged at each other, and to my surprise he put me in a lock. Before he had time to relish in his success though, I pressure pointed him, broke free, and carried him to the floor. He hit first, I landed on top of him, and now he was in a chokehold. The Tank ran to save her friend, but I stood and stomped the back of his head into the ground in time to be ready for her attack. Strike, dodge, counter, floor. Again, I was on top of her, choking her out.
Sharon was no longer in view. I might have heard her scream in fright when I started fighting but I ignored it. Now the only person left standing was the Bolt, who just stared at me and rubbed his smarting hand.
"Not going to help your friends?" I asked.
"Ain't no way..." He replied.
With a nod, I held onto the Tank until she collapsed. The female Brute moaned against the wall, and the male Brute struggled to his feet, holding his bloodied face. He stepped to the side and kicked the pool table across the room at me. I vaulted it easily, but the pain of the stomach burn ruined my landing. He persisted in his attack. Think, quickly! My fingers felt a wooden handle, so I chucked the remains of the pool cue into the male brute. The pointed, splintered end stuck into his gut, halting his stampede.
Sharon let out a quick screech of shock. When did she come back? I stood confidently, and grabbed the handle sticking out of his body. I know there would be a lot of flack for these actions, but at least I stay in practice.
"Don't pull that handle out unless you want to die. Bolt! Go get a medic..."
By the time the medic arrived, Sharon and I were gone. There was now more respect and fear among the gang for me and even Sharon kept her distance. Ultimately, I need to get her out of here before anything crazy happens. Not much longer now before the fights begin, and I can begin working on making it out. In the meantime, I will work hard to make sure that I can do as much damage to the Feeders as I possibly can.
* * *
The dream world greeted me yet again, but this time was something I never could have imagined. I was sitting in the shade of an oak tree, overlooking vast rolling hills covered in grass and purple, white, and orange flowers. In the distance were tiny snowcapped mountains, and the sky was a medley of pure blue and brilliant white puffy clouds. There were no buildings, roads, or poles; nothing man made. A gentle wind skipped across the hills, causing the grass to ripple like a green ocean and my hair to quickly get messy.
I know for a certainty that I have never been to this location. In fact...I wasn't sure if such a place like this even existed on this planet.
I've never experienced breathtaking in a good way before, but this landscape was just that. My eyes have never seen so many plants thriving in one vast area. Nearby, Fake Arty napped on the grass in the sunlight, his head resting on a rolled up jacket. Frankly, I didn't want to wake him. I'd rather enjoy the scenery without his presence.
The variety of life was astounding. At my feet, there was an unfamiliar, small, orange flower with a dark center. I was curious if it had a smell, and because of the wind I had to lean down and put my nose into it to pick up a scent. It was sweet, like perfume.
"That's a poppy."
I jerked up and saw Fake Arty peering at me out of one eye. He smiled warmly and closed his eyes again.
"Where are we?" I asked.
"I call this place Ilavoan. Do you like it?"
Nodding slightly, I continued to take in the scenery.
"How would you describe it?" He asked.
"Devoid of mankind...beautiful. Perfect." I glanced over at Fake Arty after a moment of silence. He had that look in his eye. "Don't you even think about linking me to that description!"
He chuckled and closed his eyes again. "I didn't say anything..."
"You were going to!"
"Maybe...Do you like it though?"
"Yeah..." I said distantly.
"If it were my choice, I would have you live somewhere like this place. It's fitting for you, and I would give you all the best things."
"I don't like living large like-"
"Such as a warm shower," he interrupted. "And huge, soft bed. Beautiful clothes. Delicious food too..."
Botches...that DOES sound good...
"Can you imagine yourself living here?"
"Not really," I replied.
"Why not?" He asked as he sat up.
"I don't know, I guess cause I don't belong. All I am is a program..."
Fake Arty's face went pensive. "Well I think you would fit in. All you need to do to stop being a program is have a respect for life."
"A what?"
"You heard me."
"Why would that change anything? I'm a source of destruction, it's what I do. And the people I kill deserve it!"
"Life is too precious to snuff out that easily. Erin, I know you're a good person because bad things anger you. THEY taught you not to discern death as bad, but you know better."
"Stop playing my conscience!" I snapped. My irritation was rising.
Fake Arty wore a face of disappointment. About that time, a small fox kit bounded into his lap. It was unusually playful with him and he enjoyed petting on it. "How can you not value life?"
