Bitter-Sweet Legacy

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Dec 23, 2009, 2:40am

Bitter-Sweet Legacy :: Open Mike :: Stories :: Epsilion

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Topic: Epsilion (Read 45 times)

Whisper
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Breath in. Breath out. Simple.

Joined: Jan 2008
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Epsilion
« Thread Started on Feb 23, 2008, 2:37pm »

Heres the beginning of a story i'm working on presently.

Critique is encouraged.

"Promise? I'm not letting go until you promise."

Laughter.

"Okay, Okay!!! We promise!"

"Good." A petite figure said, as she clung to the back of a broad shouldered boy, and another girl laughed at them.

"You guys are family. Why do we have to promise, when theres no way anything will ever get between us."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Those happy voices. They were so carefree. They were all she had left. She was an empty shell. They were her last memories, her last fragments of what she used to be. The last two years of her life, had been hell. Nameless guards and faceless scientists. Chemicals, alterations, experimentation. They had all stripped her of her humanity, her identity. Her past.

If those voices went away, she would lose. She would become exactly what they wanted her to be.

A weapon. A heartless, nameless tool for them to use, and discard. Not human, just another number in a book, another experiment.

All she could remember of her past self, was her name, a memory here and there, a voice. And art. When she dreamed, she dreamed of pieces of a life long destroyed. The life of a girl who live in a house, who drew, who loved, who was human.

She used to carve things into the metal walls of this grey, metal cell. The pleasure it had brought hadn't been worth the lashing, that left perfect white lines on her back

She was no longer human. She was both more and less than a human could ever be.

Her perfectly shaped hand slammed into the wall she leaned against, head resting on her knees. The skin split. It didn't matter. The nanites THEY had put in her body would heal it fast enough.

THEY were more of a monster than she was. THEY had taken everything from her. Her life, her joy her humanity, her identity.

THEY had only given her a number. They chopped off her thigh length hair, shaved her scalp. They took her body, and modified it.

She was a new breed now. Her bones stronger and harder than diamonds. Sensors, chips, networks of new enhanced muscles, replaced her once normal body.

She shifted. The rough blanket rubbed against over sensitive skin.

She hated this place. This place with no sunlight, only artificial lighting, where there was no taste of fresh air to be found, even with her heightened senses.

Where her life had been stripped away.

Where exactly 4499 other lives had been destroyed. "For the good of the country"

Bull shit. The "Great US of A." Nothing but a group of murderers. She used to have a cell mate. She never knew the girls name. Her number was 4459. She became a mistake in an experiment. They "culled" her. Because she had been a mistake.

Names. No one could remember them. Names made things human. Names distracted from a target. Names gave personality. Names could give you power. So they took the names away. They were only numbers.

That way, when they said "Kill that" It wasn't a human. It wasn't a life. It was a target. Numbers were reusable. Names were special. Names were not allowed.

There were only Targets. There were Those who gave you the Targets. They were the ones she wanted to turn into targets.

But THEY were smart. THEY had learned from the last time, that we were stronger. That we COULD kill them. That THEY weren't as powerful as they thought.

It was when 4472 broke his cuffs, and killed every guard stationed around him. Everyone else had followed suit. She had been there. The rush of adrenaline she had felt, the rush of pure, undiluted power.

To watch the life of the guard that whipped her, slowly squeezed out, as the foggy glaze of death slid over his eyes as she slowly strangled him, with the muscled hands THEY had given her. The feeling of the claws that THEY gave her, rip through THEIR flesh.

Yes, THEY had learned. THEY had finally understood, that THEY had created monsters.

The cell door opened.

One of THEM stood there with the sleepy gas, and 6 men to catch her.

She was one of the few left. She was a success in their experiments.

She would win, one day. She would take everything they had forced into her, and turn it on them. Bring it on She sometimes thought. The more they gave her, the more she had to turn back on them when the time came.

I will win, one way or another. I will find the people that belong to those voices, and faces. I will win. Because I remember my name.

I am one of the Military projects, Epsilon. I am not human any longer.

I am Epsilion #78. I am Number 4478, and my name is Allie.

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