Beyond the Maze

Chapter 5: Revelation

My new companions decided to set up camp near some rocks that were in the area that was furthest to my left. imposing. dark. Some very sharp. They crowned a small gorge that sheltered more stones, even sharper and more imposing, which seemed to be warning that death was imminent in that place. The boys didn't seem to care at all that those stones were dangerous or sharp, they just wanted to rest and have dinner.

I could hear how the leader ordered the boys to put some tablecloths on the stones and use them as tables; in addition to the occasional discussion, especially between that blond boy and the boy with Asian features himself as a result of who should preside over the table; I could also hear the dark-haired boy, to whom the crowd would not stop yelling: "Frypan, don't do it." The young man, who used to prepare the food, also asked for help to make a small mound of stones to light a fire to cook and heat the food. He had no idea what he was cooking, but the smoke from the campfire carried with it a delicious smell, an impressive mixture that made me ride in glory, since it had been a long time since I had smelled anything similar.

Inside my being the roar of the lion invaded me again, my stomach was reminding me that I had to eat something, that I couldn't take it anymore. I was really hungry. He thought he could devour anything in front of him, although it had been almost a week or so since he had eaten decently.

My state of health was quite terrible, since hunger had already made an appearance, sapping my energy, my ability to react and my entire perception of reality which, added to the scorching heat of the desert, became a deadly mixture for me, a kind of agony that tormented me every day and that had already played me the occasional trick. However, I was eager to be able to eat something, although I was dying of shame to go to the cook's pot to ask him to put some food on me. I know it's stupid, but the first thing that occurred to me was to put my hand on my abdomen. It still hurt, but intermittently but very sharp, as if a small nail was being driven into that area.

He was a little apart from the group, about ten or fifteen meters from the camp. Only. Sitting on the sand, curled up between my legs, which I held with my own arms while resting my head on my knees. I was still hungry, although the fact that I was embarrassed to go anywhere near one of those boys to give me something to eat still gnawed at me. A part of my biomechanical material, which served as human skin, began to fade. Suddenly the area of my right eye socket turned a brilliant metallic and electric blue and the scar, which ran from the far-right area of the eye and ran along my cheekbone to merge with my neck, also took on that brilliant bluish hue.

It was not the first time that this bluish tone invaded the right area of my face, however, I knew that it was something intrinsic to me. My cell tissue was not regenerating as it should, further increasing the differences between what I was and normal human beings. It really hurt a lot, but he was aware that there would come a day when he could no longer repress or force that situation. That was my true face. That was my true condition. The thin line that separated me from normal boys, like the group of people who had rescued me, was fading little by little, and more so when the scorching heat of the sun ate away at my interior, the energy that led to said regeneration.

I tried to cry. I couldn't. I wanted to scream. I had no strength. I tried to sob. It had no value. My entire existence had been based on repressing emotions, on not being able to develop my own thoughts and on following the instructions of my superiors, as if I were a puppet whose strings just had to be pulled. Only one thought crossed my mind: crying. Cry inconsolably, get all the shit out of me. Take off the heavy ballast of guilt, that ballast that deprived me of having my own identity. He thought and rethought about it: «My name, Elian, is the only thing that separates me between being a laboratory rat and having some human dignity, even if I have to bear the atrocities committed by me, as a flag.