Fighting Fate

"So you still won't eat."

…

"Alright."

On the first day I felt fine.

I felt a little hungry and thirsty but nothing I couldn't handle.

On the second day it felt as if my body was drying up.

Instead of being lined with saliva my mouth felt dry and gritty.

I could feel the chemical changes in my body but I didn't understand them.

On the third day… I understood.

Everywhere that had been dry the day before hardened and cracked, my skin looked shriveled and my mind drove me insane.

The fear I'd felt toward water was completely replaced by the desire to drink it.

Before I knew it my lips were touching glass and cool water slipped down my throat.

It's been weeks since then.

I used to be rather muscular.

Now my bones protrude through my skin, and I look like a skeleton with skin wrapped around it.

While I couldn't resist the urge to drink I was able to resist eating no matter what delicacies appeared in front of me.

I don't recognize my own body.

The smell of fried chicken makes me shiver and I grab my arms as if to hold myself in place.

I would eat but… No! I can't.

I have to die, I have to end this pain.

My caved in stomach fills my mind with pictures of food.

It lures me to the scent of fried chicken and cookies, a delicacy I can never have.

And yet...

It lies right in front of me.

It's smell fills the room and tries to force my instincts to overtake my consciousness.

I won't eat.

I'm this close to ending it all.

The door opens.

The door that's marked the beginning of the days torment so many times before.

I look up.

A person dressed up in a hazmat suit who appears to be an adult woman enters.

The suits are probably just to increase the effects of dehumanization, I've never been sick due to a lack of exposure to the elements.

My voice is weak and soft.

Normally it's strong and deep.

"So, have you finally come to put me down? Or are you here to forcefully feed me."

"You really don't learn do you. We tend to decide on whatever would give you the most misery. Right now death would be too merciful."

I clench my teeth.

I don't want to die! I never did.

I just want to stop feeling this pain.

I just want to get rid of this madness.

This burning, this tingling in my chest.

I feel it corroding my brain, corrupting my brain's biology.

I always thought I'd be out of here one day, it was a forced belief upon myself that allowed me to cope.

But that belief, that… hope is gone.

All that's left of me is madness.

Hatred for the only voices that have ever spoken to me.

Hatred to those who raise me, Hatred to those who have been my only relationships.

She takes a tool from her backpack and begins to walk towards me.

We're a foot apart but while she stands I sit, my body limp.

I don't need to guess what that tool is, I know what it is.

I used to believe I had options.

That each person decided their own fate.

I no longer believe that.

Even so, my mind presents me with two options.

One, to eat the food, avoid being force fed and continue to be tortured until the day I die.

Two, rebel.

Take this body which is weaker than a child's and murder her.

The word should carry more weight to me.

I've never killed anyone, or thought too heavily about how I would go about doing it.

Even so, I bet the word would roll lightly off the tongue for me.

I guess people really lose sentiment for other's suffering when they've suffered themselves.

I… want to be free.

I need all this to end.

"Wait, I'll eat. Don't force feed me."

I grab the plate and stand up.

She laughs,

"Did you really think I wouldn't? For once you actually brought something on yourself! You see us as sadists right? Well we are, why wouldn't I watch you suffer now that I've taken my valuable time to come here to save your life!"

I hate her voice, that obnoxious confidence.

I hate the sound of her footsteps, so loud.

her shape, disgustingly human.

her breath, putrid.

I despise her very being.

If she was gone, if only she was gone!

"You can't force feed me without food."

I throw the food onto her mask.

And as she wipes the food off her plastic face I throw the plate onto the ground with the thin part facing the ground and it shatters.

I dash across the floor ignoring the splinters shredding my feet into pieces.

I grab the sharpest looking piece and stare into her eyes.

The first real human face I've ever seen up close.

My eyes shift to her throat and I stab her carotid artery through the suit.

Without a moment's hesitation I search her bag as she falls to the ground gasping for air.

That's a pain I've felt twice.

Choking on my own blood.

An alarm sounds and the metal door shuts violently.

There are still two more people I have to kill.

I find a sub-machine gun and a key card.

I know exactly where it goes.

It unlocks the prison I've spent my entire life in.

It's the key to a world I've only read about.

I insert the key and the door opens.

The room is made of stainless steel and is the shape of a cube.

There's a table with three chairs in the middle of the room and a cabinet in a corner.

It's dark and the ceiling is much smaller than where I lived.

Where are the other two?

They're either hiding at a checkpoint and waiting for me to cross it, running away, or are coming for me right now

What's the best choice here, how can I beat them in their own base?

They're probably angry that I killed their comrade and believe they can easily overpower me because of my lack of experience, current physique, and lack of battle knowledge.

In addition I remember them being very confident and calculated in all that they do.

They're the people I know best in all of this world so… They're probably coming for me right now.

They might have cameras in the building, so it's possible that no matter where I run I'll be found and shot down.

What's the solution then? I have to make a decision quickly, there's no telling when they'll reach me.

I hear footsteps in a tunnel to my left and turn towards it.

I see a head and fire.

The safety wasn't on, luckily for me, and the recoil is extremely minimal contrary to what I'd expect from a machine gun.

The bullets travel in an instant like light.

As soon as I fire them they reach their destination. The man is dead.

There's one more person.

I walk backwards keeping my bullets aimed down the tunnel.

I hear a clicking sound.

There's a gun aimed behind me.

"Don't move. You killed my parents, now you'll die."

Her voice is light and innocent.

A lie.

I whip around and fire at her, only an idiot speaks before shooting.

I feel something burning on my cheek and wince.

She missed.

If she was a touch more accurate I wouldn't even know I was dead.

I sigh, It's finally over.

For once in my life, I changed something.

Something catches my eye on the table in the middle of the room.

Files.

I stare at them blankly.

My legs walk towards them without my permission and my arms pick them up without my thinking.

Each folder has a capital CLASSIFIED and a name on it.

Name.

What was my name again?

It seemed so irrelevant, do I even have a name?

I open the folder with a picture of me on it.

Name: ______ "Patient No. 81 laboratory 06.

Displays an irregular will to live.

Longest living subject in laboratory 06.

Above average intelligence.

Exceptional physique.

Average height.

Above average weight.

Parents: Belle Xeran; Par Xeran.

Members of an extinct clan.

Clan traits: None. Unique traits of parents: intelligence: Average. physique: Average. Abilities: None Height: below average. Weight: average. Cause of death: Murder: Weapon: knife. KIller: Ronald Ipplo. (Assassin)

Experiment type: Effect of genetics on behavior. Laboratory 06 Objective: Cause a mental break. Current day 6032. Family: Sibling, Jackson Xeran Cause of death: Termination. Reason: Mental break. Survived until day 1876.

I close the folder.

They're collaborating with other people.

There could be more people in this building

Even if there isn't, there could be people coming later.

My objective is to be free. Knowing my ancestry or any data collected on me is extra. I need to find food then leave this place as soon as possible.

As the adrenalin fades the glass stuck in my feet begin to hurt more.

Ignoring them has caused them to dig deeply into my feet.

I pick out the larger pieces out then continue walking.

I search the cabinet in the corner of the room.

No food.

I travel down the hallway opposite to where the man came out of.

The walls and ceiling are a dusty, gloomy brick

It's so dark.

Maybe I just perceive it that way since I'm used to bright lights being shined on me constantly.

The tunnel gives way to a room and I search everything that can be opened for food or a clue about how to escape the laboratory.

Nothing.

It feels as though there are holes in my feet that grow deeper with each step I take.

Now that my life's not in immediate danger I can feel it.

The gaping void inside my stomach.

I barely have the strength to keep walking.

It's like I'm half of a person.

I feel less, I think less, and most of my thoughts are occupied by food.

Food, where is it?

Is there really none in this place?

My feet burn more intensely then they did at first.

I begin crawling.

There's another hallway.

I crawl through it and find a kitchen.

I open the refrigerator and grab the first thing I see.

I gorge on cheese.

The first real food I've ever had.

I can't describe the flavour, I've never experienced what it's like to taste.

All I know is that it's delicious.

I go back to the fridge and search for anything I can quickly eat.

I see raw fish, eggs, baloney, spinach, and assorted fruits.

Drool escapes my mouth and I eat everything except the baloney and eggs.

A full stomach.

Something I haven't had for a while now.

I gather any food I haven't eaten and look for a bag to store them in.

There's a whitish-grayish see through bag in a corner next to the refrigerator.

That will have to do.

I store anything that looks edible and preservable inside the bag.

What's my next move. Despite everything going well so far, I'm really in a terrible situation.

There probably aren't other people in this building.

The alarm that sounded likely would've alerted them and I'd already have been shot.

The real problem is that I know the people I killed work for somebody.

The question now is whether they will come for me, how far they are from this place, and how long I have to stay here.

Provided I even find the way out of this place, I would probably die in this state.

I'm shoeless with rags for clothing.

I have the strength of someone half my age.

The cuts in my soles will attract viruses like flies to a lantern.

But the largest problem, larger than any of these other obstacles is the fact that I've never been sick.

My exposure is less than that of an infant.

It's a given that I will experience my first sickness upon leaving this place and I need to make sure my body is ready.

As it is now… I grimace. I can't even guess the chances of my survival. I need more information before I make a decision.

If I can just find out some crucial information it may save my life.

Despite being in such a hopeless situation I don't feel any dread.

I don't feel anything at all towards it.

I've always been in a seemingly hopeless situation and now I find myself here.

Compared to what I've been through this is nothing.

I'll definitely find a way to survive.

Because if I die here.

All my suffering was truly for nothing. Not for data or research, not for a brighter future, For nothing at all.

If that were to become the case… I just might break.