Fe'ran// Flawed Nature

Promise// Pänu

Silence. It drove her insane; she searched for anything. She hated this silence. The only thing that was of interest to her was the blood that dripped from her skin. 

It was no longer a puddle but a large sea. The cuts were slowly healing, but that was not of concern to her. 

The stitches inside her arms and legs were. They hurt so much that she thought she was going to vomit again. But she didn't; her stomach was too empty. 

She felt them on her stomach and back, too. And that scared her. She was scared. So scared that she tried to get out of the metal that kept her captive. 

She was nauseous, like she was going to pass out, and she barely felt the tears streaming down her face.

She didn't want to know what her face looked like. 

Everything was a blur as she heard the door open again. A man in black and red came through the door and loosened the metal cuffs around her arms and legs.

She thought about running, but she was far too weak to even do that. A part of her just wanted to sleep and never wake up. 

She didn't look up as they dragged her through the hall and then another hallway. She didn't even bother counting. 

But all of a sudden, she did not feel dizzy anymore; her mind became clearer, and she could hear again. She could hear the door open, and she saw that she was in a large, white room. It was not like her room. No, Cell...

Everything was empty except the TV screen. In the middle was a huge white chair. Everything is white. It needs color. 

The man was there. The one with the brown, lifeless eyes is sitting on a chair at the end of the table. 

The guards moved again, sitting her down on the chair right in front of him. Their touch felt wrong, perverse, and rough, like stone. She wanted to move, scream, and kill him. Stain her fingers with his blood and end his fucked-up life. She wanted to run, leave this fucking hell behind.

But to where? Her house—that wasn't even a proper one? Back to her shitty job that couldn't even save her from starvation and death? Why was she needed here? As much as she hated it, she was just a number. 

She knew she had talent; her linguistic and mathematical abilities were more than promising, but what would that bring her? She couldn't afford a scholarship or even pay the debt she already had. She dropped out of school after it got too expensive and learned everything either from her dad when he still lived or from books. Real books, not the digital ones. 

"How are you?" His voice was like sandpaper against her ears, and she could barely hear it. She didn't answer; she doubted she could even speak or make a sound. 

Her eyes searched for something—someone to tell her where and why she was here. But there was no one. Her gaze fell on a piece of paper. A paper made of recycled plastic. A Contract. 

Humani GenX. Guide humanity forward and be there when we become something greater.

Was she really greater than before? She didn't feel like it. She was in pain, scared, but still unable to move or do anything. The other words were just a bunch of stupid words without meaning to her. Her scattered brain couldn't contain any information. 

"Why am I here?" Her voice felt wrong, monotone, and detached. 

A laugh came to her ears, amusement laced in it. He laughed at her. 

"To help us, Moreno. We helped you heal. You can help us. That Was the Deal" 

"And what do I do?" 

Silence. There was silence before he spoke again. She didn't like it. Didn't like his look; it made her cringe. It was like she wasn't even a person to him. No less than a dog or a robot

"You fought. You were in the army program at your school. You were one of the best before you quit. Why? Why leave a position others would kill for?" 

That made her freeze. Her memories of the school program and the training they put her through were locked away in the deepest parts of her brain.

 She quit before she could be enlisted. It didn't fit her; she wasn't made for it. Liar. They made you quit. You weren't good enough. They hated you. Just like everyone in your pathetic, miserable life. 

She couldn't move, couldn't speak at first. 

"I didn't like it." Another lie. She had nothing to fight for. For what? A country that was supposedly the greatest of them all? The country that couldn't even go a single week without a school shooting? They were dying anyway; why would it matter?  

She heard horror stories of kids with diabetes and other illnesses. They died because they couldn't afford health insurance. She almost died because she couldn't afford simple medication. The rich could.  

"You did. You just had nothing that was worth it. I can change that" 

She looked back at the contract, a pen next to her. Her hands were on fire; she had the feeling her skin was peeled off as she moved her hand and grabbed the pencil. She had nothing to lose anyway. 

It felt weird to write, like she didn't know how to move her fingers correctly. They trembled, like that of a baby trying to take its first steps. But after a few minutes, her name stood on the paper. 

"That's good. Welcome by Humani GenX, Subject 3895." 

*