EVIL WOMAN / ben parish

chapter five

DR. PAM TRANSFERRED me to the Convalescent Wing that night because she said she wasn't entirely confident to throw me into the "lion's den". Not kidding, those were her actual words. She explained that I had some underlying issues to the other nurses and I can't help but realize she probably means my lack of ability when it comes to talking.

I actually thank god she made that choice because last night was the best sleep I've ever had since the Waves. I don't think that would've been the same had I been with other people.

When I wake up, I'm a little annoyed. I know what's to come next and I don't really care for it. A couple nurses come in to run my diagnostics before they usher themselves out and leave me confused.

A couple minutes go by and then the door finally opens. I'm actually relieved by this because the boredom was beginning to drive me insane.

The man catches me off guard. He is tall—very tall, actually—and he is radiating a dominance that makes my confidence crumble. His eyes are a deep ocean blue and seem intimidating to stare at for too long. I know he's important. His stance and his shiny boots give me the hunch that he may have been the leader of this base.

Not to mention the officer insignia on his collar.

"Do you know who I am?"

Does it look like I do?

I don't want to be sarcastic toward him with the fear that he might kick me out. But, it was a natural instinct. Thankfully, my throat closes in on myself and I'm deeply reminded of Eve. How could I forget that she possessed my body the night she died and forced me to never speak again?

"It's okay, you don't need to speak," he says like he knows my trouble with it. Maybe he does; Dr. Pam is probably obliged to tell him everything about the kids they're sheltering. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Vosch, the commander of this base."

So I was right. But, then I furrow my brows. I know I'm one of the new kids around here but I doubt he visits every room of every kid being placed here. So why is he visiting me out of everyone? Unless he does and it leads me to another question: Why?

I can't tell much of him. Usually I'm pretty good at reading people and it seems like there isn't much of him to know. I can feel this sense of respect, though. He's standing a couple feet away from me with his back straight and his hands clasped behind his back. It seems like the position one would do when giving someone of importance their attention.

I stare blankly at him. I'm obviously not going to respond so I'm waiting for him to continue. I feel like he can see through my thoughts because a hint of a smile shadows his lips while he walks over to the window.

"I don't mean to scare you," he tells me with a breathy chuckle following after. "I got to take a look at your Wonderland profile, and I have to say, you are one tough cookie. You're special, Marlowe. It's rare nowadays."

Now he's calling me that. It's bad enough I've got Dr. Pam doing it, I don't think I can handle one more.

"To rinse themselves from all that pain is not something most people can do. I admire you, in a way. When I look into your eyes, I don't see sadness but I see acceptance. It's admirable," he tells me proudly. I look away from him because I don't understand and he notices. "Is there someone worth fighting for to you?"

Yes. There's actually too many people on that list. I would kill for them—and I have. I just don't feel entirely sure that it would ever be enough for me. Even after seeing the man that had killed my brother stop breathing felt more like a loss than a victory. None of it felt as relieving as it should have. I go back to yesterday when I ended that poor boy's life and still don't feel the justice yet.

I guess that's where I let the answer go because I could kill every last alien in this universe and it still wouldn't be enough to avenge their deaths. They shouldn't have died at all.

"I don't want you to be afraid, Marlowe." Vosch takes a step toward me and kneels, forcing his deep blue eyes into my own. "I know hidden underneath that strength is several weaknesses. I know the family that you lost is one of them, or maybe all of them. But you don't have to hold on to this guilt forever."

I scoff and I don't feel any ounce of care that I may have offended him. It's easy for him to spew this nonsense to me when he has no way of understanding. My mind feels like it's throbbing and I want to shut it all off.

Vosch doesn't ridicule me for my action, or give me an upset expression; he smiles. "Can I offer a way that may make it easier?" he offers a second after.

My gaze flits back to him slowly, not wanting to give him the thought that his words mean anything to me. I have the strongest feeling of what is about to come out of his mouth and I swear to God, if he says something stupid like I think, I will...well, there's actually not much that I can do. I just hope it's worth my sanity.

"I lost someone. Well, two," he shares with me and I suddenly feel guilty, the annoyance in my eyes dispersing awkwardly. "But I don't let it bring me down. Instead, it lifts me up. It fills me with anger and I use it as motivation to help you kids fulfill your potential. What I'm asking of you is to accept my help. To let me help you make it easier."

There it is. As much as it's effortless of him to offer, no help could ever make it easier. I don't think there is one thing in this world that exists anymore that would help me recover from the loss of my family except them, and they're the thing that doesn't exist. It still feels like a fever dream to me at how fast I lost them in such little time but I know it's real as much as it hurts to admit.

For a long time, I couldn't ever see myself without the presence of my parents. I was always afraid of growing up alone especially without them by my side. Just knowing if I needed anything and they'd be one call away made me feel safe. But, then they were gone. The moment I realized that became the time I forced myself to grow up as much it frightened me.

I look down at my hands and fidget with them. I can't bear to look him in the eye. Not only does it intimidate me but I don't want him thinking I value his message.

"What are you afraid of?"

My lips purse as I gaze at him softly. He can see the answer written in my eyes.

"It's your sister, isn't it?" His words cut like a knife and the knife cuts through me. "Your brother? Your parents?"

The room feels like it's closing in on me. As my lips get dry and my eyes start to burn, I'm wishing for this interaction to come to an end.

"Would you fight for them?" is his next question.

I nod even though I have lost my energy.

"Then, that's it." He raises his brows in satisfaction. "That's all that matters in this final battle. It's this"—he points to my heart—"that'll fight for you. Eventually, everything that used to hurt won't hurt you anymore."

I fight back tears. Don't cry, idiot. I haven't cried since my siblings death and I don't intend on doing it anytime soon. But, the thought of letting them go is scary. Letting them go meant moving on and no matter how many aliens I manage to take out, it will never fill the hole they left behind.

Their deaths, their memories, their life will be glued to me forever.

"And, you may be wondering: How may you do that?" he asks the question for me. I'm thankful for it because I've ran out of the audacity to open my mouth. "Today, you'll be reporting to Squad Fifty-Three."