The Defective Soldier || Newt

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟖

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕠𝕪 𝕆𝕗 ℍ𝕚𝕤 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕖𝕤

✃✃✃✃✃✃✃✃✃

Nearly an hour ago, gunshots and cries had overtaken his hearing, but at that moment, the only persistent sounds were his sniffs and his hands fiddling with his right arm's sleeve.

"I killed," the words escaped his mouth as if his mind was no longer in control of itself. "I killed dad."

No one was there to listen to his remorse, much less share it. Test MCME1 had proved that only he could go against orders; something he was being punished for. Nonetheless, refusing them had served for nothing, since, in a fit of anger, the newly founded group's Commander shot his father.

The body disappeared just as quickly as he was grabbed by his arms, pulling and pushing him out of the Test's room to the one he was currently in; staring into the darkness with nothing else better to do than cower and cry in a corner. With no lights and the constant uneasiness, he wondered if that room was the so-promised Probation. Since Group S was formed, the Commander has done nothing but talk about it.

"A place so horrible that killing is the only way out," he said under his breath, raising his hands to his hair, following a pattern for no reason other than to appease part of his mind. "Locked and kept away."

Not much time had passed since his first kill, and he surely didn't want to repeat it anytime soon, even though it seemed that he would have no alternative. It was almost maddening; the tests, the missions. He was only nine years old. Back when he lived with his family, nine-year-olds didn't kill — not for survival, nor for amusement — yet he was being forced to.

The worst part for his conscience; his first kill had been a child. They were just like him, a little taller and paler of skin, but still a kid no older than seven or eight years old. Even if they were infected, even if they could become a potential threat later on, how could the grown-ups expect him to keep killing other kids like nothing was wrong? It was very much wrong in his opinion. Crank or not, adult or child, nobody deserved such violent ends.

He rubbed his eyes, getting the tears to flow down his cheeks instead of bottling up. No cries would help his situation, he knew that much, but somehow crying relaxed him. Only one thing was missing: the comforting hugs that his brother gave him back when they were still together. Back when they were happy in their home with their parents and the maddened people were their only worry.

Compared to those days, his current life felt like a nightmare. One which it would take years to wake up from.

"Soldier S5," said a man with a flashy suit and long face, like a rat's, standing tall under the frame of the room's only door to the outside. "Your punishment for disobeying orders has been set. We'll be lenient. Since you're still young, two days of solitary confinement should be enough. Repeat today's events, and the punishment will increase with every infraction."

Rat Man showed no compassion as he turned his heels swiftly, got out to the hallway, and closed the door behind him.

The room fell back into a dark abyss, enclosing him in it for the two promised days; with hardly twenty minutes of light per meal and a torch to access the bathroom at the side of the room. There was nothing for him to do, except supposedly reflect on his wrongdoings, which he was in no state of mind to acknowledge.

"My brother's next," he mumbled, almost digging his nails into his skin while hugging himself to sleep. "They'll make me kill him. He'll die. I can't kill him. I can't."