Our Soul Divided

15| I'm Sorry

Rain

Last night, a bag was shoved over my head and I was carried around like a thrashing sack of potatoes. If they think they will get anything out of me, they're dead fucking wrong. I'll die happily knowing that I've protected the resistance.

They strapped me to a chair hours ago, maybe days, I don't even know how long it's been. It's cold in this room, but I still can't see anything. The only warmth I feel is the bottom half of my face warmed by the breath coming from my mouth making it damp and warm around my mouth.

I can hear something dripping into a puddle behind me, but it doesn't sound like water. My stomach was queasy for a while at the thought of what it might be, but I have come accustomed to the sound. Which makes me wonder again, how long have I been down here?

I forced myself to stop thinking about Stetson hours ago. He has to be okay, if he isn't, there are so many people doomed to die, or worse. He made it back. I repeated it in my head over and over until I forced myself to think about something else.

I also stopped fighting the restraints hours ago. I wish they were rope or zip ties, or really anything normal. Stetson and I spent hours teaching each other to slip from any number of things. We had never prepared for whatever this high-tech cuff is holding my hands comfortably but firmly. I knew after the first few hours that they would never budge.

I hear a heavy door screech open and I freeze. My breathing becomes shallow and fear creeps up my bones from my toes to my brain as I hear footsteps nearing me.

Suddenly, the sack is snatched from my head and I can see for the first time where I am.

The bright light is blinding, reflecting off the light concrete walls. There are no windows, and only one door, the one that's blocked by a Red Suit. I am so fucked. The chair that I'm strapped too looks like a high tech dentist's chair. My eyes frantically dart around the room looking for any escape. My feet were freed when I was strapped to the chair, I could find a way to kill the cuff if I could just find a way out.

"Don't bother," the Red Suit's static voice rung around the otherwise empty room. "There's no way out."

Besides the one blocking the door, another Red Suit had made his way toward me and was now standing a mere three or four feet from me. Rage begins to build in my chest.

"Cowards," I spit at him but it doesn't reach.

He doesn't respond in any way. His mask remains in place, and the Red Suit standing guard seems to have calcified because he looks like a robot standing completely still. I know there are people in these suits, but they are monsters all the same.

"I need some information from you," the closest one says. He seems to be the one in charge. He's definitely larger.

The delirious cackle that rings out around the room is terrifying. Then I realized that it came from me.

"You won't get fuck all from me," I brave. "Bite me."

"It would be in your best interest to cooperate," his robotic voice has no emotion.

"Cooperate? Why? You won't let me go. You won't even go easy on me, and I damn sure won't be joining you monsters."

"You are correct, Ms. Olsen." I straighten at my last name. I haven't heard it in years, and yet he knows it. They know it.

He paces slowly around my chair, "You know, your ancestors were Vikings. Berserkers actually," he says casually.

"So?" This is a strange tactic. Why reveal all their information? He's assumed I won't make it out of here and we all know that the Elites have access to everyone's records anyway.