Shattered Innocence

Echoes of the Past

I stare at Nikolay, extremely turned on by that display. I shouldn't be, since it was angry and chaotic, but I hear the man scream, and damn, it has my pulse racing as I look at his bulging muscles. It's only when another soldier clears his throat as the others leave to fetch their comrade that I turn back around. I shake my head, reminding myself that there's no time for flirting or even figuring out if Nikolay would throw me like that. My steps are slow as I make my way down the corridor. I can feel their eyes on my hunched back, their worry radiating towards me, and it fills me with shame. They think I'm weak and foolish—No! It's my father's voice and insecurities resurfacing, so I push them away, knowing they are only concerned about me. There's something about shared trauma that bonds people. I trust them more than I ever thought possible because we are the same—same wounds, scars, fears, and hopes. They would never judge me, only support me, and that level of trust and support has me standing up taller, knowing I can do this. I have to so I can find peace, not just for me, but for them. We also need to finish this and put an end to what my father did, so it can end with us.

My steps become steadier, my hand dragging down the wall as I walk. The shakiness disappears once I realize their strength is my strength and that I'm not alone anymore. My father's ghost can't hurt me here. They won't let it. The hallway turns darker the deeper we go, and memories assault me from every corner, but I grit my teeth and force myself through them. They cling to me like the cobwebs in this house. Those silky strands wrap tighter around me until each step is heavy and dragging.

His grip tightens on my too young hand, pulling me down the corridor. I dig my feet in, not wanting to go, a wordless whine on my lips. My eyes dart around behind the blindfold desperately, seeking help. Seeking something that won't come. Someone to save me. He throws my hand down like a petulant child, and I feel his fingers on my face as he moves closer. The heat of his body makes me shiver, and the faint smell of whisky on his breath as he spits his words makes me recoil as far as I can. Pain already racks my body, but it is nothing compared to what is to come now that I have tried to defy him. A useless rebellion. In the long run, it will only hurt me longer if I fight.

"Now behave, Nora," he says. "You know why I do this. It's to help you and to better mankind. It will expand the human mind..."

Panting, I lean into the wall, pushing through the memory. It fades away with a mocking laugh. For a moment, I'm still that young, scared, pained girl who's lost in the dark, reaching out desperately for someone to save me, only for my hand to be taken by the monster. Betterment of mankind? It's all bullshit. All of his research was utter bullshit. All he did was scar children and force them to become wounded adults. Yes, we are stronger and faster, and we have higher IQs and survival skills. That part of his research might have succeeded, but everything else? It failed. We aren't supersoldiers. We are too broken for that.

"Nora?" I hear Zack's soft voice pierce the haze of anger and resentment, reaching out to me in the darkness. They aren't coming to save me from my father, but they are here now. They are here, and they aren't leaving. I grip Zack's hand tightly, letting his presence anchor me in reality.

I'm fine," I mutter gruffly, pushing away from the wall, shaking yet again. It's just a place, Nora, just a fucking place. Get over it and woman the fuck up. With that thought repeating in my head, I lift my foot and take one step, and then another. The world around me is a blur, my racing heartbeat roaring in my ears as I focus on my feet and nothing else, like that will stop the memories from reaching for me again.

Flashes of them move past my eyes, but I ignore them as best as I can as I lead them to the lab. "No, Daddy, please, I'll be good. I swear!" My young self struggles to walk as he pulls me down the corridor, sighing in disgust before slinging me into his arms and carrying me into the lab. It's the only time he ever carries me. Next, I silently walk down it. I'm older and not even reaching out anymore. I'm just silently and numbly walking after him. The years pass through those memories, from a sobbing, begging child to a stern, dead-inside teenager. My understanding of the world evolved alongside my understanding of the father who only saw me as an experiment, and never a child.