Immortal

27. Bloodstained hands

(Eliam's POV)

-Flash back-

Our world was a war zone. The wars my little brother grew up hearing about had never ended. Others were made to believe the fight was over. The only thing that had stopped is that the fighting had become less obvious. The oppressive system only expanded as the fights continued. I remembered growing up next to sector thirteen which was at the heart of most the outer sectors. That sector was were most Avians like me came from. I would walk through white corridors with my mother's assistant in training. She was different than the woman Sam knew. I wasn't under her care, she had long rich chocolate brown hair. Her wings were an ashen grey and dragged behind her when she walked. The only thing that would remind me she was beside me was the clicking sound of her heels. With her presence, I could roam and go wherever I wanted. I passed wire lined windows full of machines, and other beings. Some looked nothing like me, and with many of them it had been the first time ever seeing someone unlike me. I didn't think much of our differences. I figured they were working, since almost everyone was always working. Adults would sometimes greet me as I walked past. No one got in my way or pushed me around.

I would stop inside of rooms overlooking massive maze like areas. Beings where in different sections of the room behind glass doors. A loud buzzer would go off and the doors would unseal. From that point onward they would have to navigate the obstacles of the maze to find an exit. If they came across each other they would have to fight and or incapacitate each other because there was only one winner. The rules of the arena were simple. It was an easy game.

I would root for my favorite to win. Usually it was because they wore a color I liked, which was a marker that set them apart, not really for their skill. I was a kid, I didn't understand the point of those tests. I would be upset or mad when they lost. The assistant always plugged in the stats into her tablet. She would tell me to settle down or be quiet. She never let go of her tablet or went anywhere without it, she ignored me when tests were taking place. It made me wonder what was on it that made it so important to her.

My mother would sometimes join us and watch them race, I would annoy her with pointing out who my favorite was. She would kneel and watch the match at my level listening to my childish rants. When they lost she would look at me upset again with tears in my eyes and say. "should we get someone better to try again?" The question was so innocently phrased. "Yes." I would answer.

I didn't know that each losing candidate I had asked to be replaced was killed if it was an art form. If it was one of our kind my mother reinstated them to a different section of her facility to be tested on and used for different experiments of her choice. She would grab the tablet from the assistant and show me a list of names and photos. "Pick who you want to run next." She would smile so sweetly. I would get a peek at the information the assistant had in her hands at all times. Scrolling the the list of faces and names like toys, I would select those who looked cool to me. My mother would submit the order and they would appear at the glass door wearing the color I chose.

"Let him choose." My mother would tell the woman with the tablet and I would smile proudly. My opinion mattered, she let me choose who would race. I thought the tests were harmless not feats for survival. I thought of it like a television show and I saw the assistant bow and nod to my mothers command. She looked at me like I was a little monster when she left. I would press my hands to the glass and watch as another match began. I didn't know what they were doing to the racers behind the scenes.

I had absolutely no idea what was happening until the day I became one of them. It was an unusual period when it happened the assistant I knew had given me a black shirt to put on. I thought it was a gift of sorts in spirit of the races. I put it on willingly but I was taken to one of the rooms and shoved into it. I recognized the glass door because I had seen it from above. The door to the room where I'd come in had been locked. Another adult came in from a different area and grabbed my arm roughly and clamped a bracelet down on my arm. I winced and yanked my arm away and glared.