Nothing Ever Lasts (Rewrite Demo)

Chapter 6: Rise of the Fallen

November 21st
1900 hours

If this was what being sick felt like, EM-37 never wanted to experience this ever again. For the next few days he felt like all of the life was drained out of him, and that everything he did was for nothing. It was as if his soul was sucked out of him and all of his hope in life was diminished. He had never been sick in his life, or at least the last time he remembered. However, EM just felt absolutely abysmal and sollen about everything.

He felt hallow, lifeless, like nothing else mattered to him. EM-37 had became a shell of a man just like all of the other soldiers. Was he supposed to become a killing machine for the rest of his life with nothing else to gain?

Getting up was a chore, training was exhausting, eating was nauseating, and even trying to listen to his music was unenjoyable. Nothing was liberating with this feeling of emptiness that washed inside of him. It didn't help as the days were leading up for Project Vector.

Not even seeing EM-17's bruised up and bandaged face made him feel better. Who avoided EM-37 at all costs now and would avoid his gaze every time he looked at him.

He didn't want to talk to anyone since then. Not even to Derek or even Commander Eisenhower who brought EM-37 to his office and finally got him a drink. It was Rye Whiskey, and the alcohol burned the back of his throat with every sip he took. He only had a few sips while Eisenhower enjoyed himself a nice few drinks. He then sat up and admired that he liked this version of EM-37 now, his face flushed.

"Whatever they did to you in there, they did a good job. You're finally learning how to behave."

On second thought, alcohol was overrated, and EM-37 could live without another drink.

He figured that maybe he could take the risk of acting out so that way he didn't have to feel like death all of the time. Perhaps it was the only escape from this hellhole . . .

No. He needed to be better than that. He needed to be strong and not let this place crack him. EM-37 didn't fight this long just to cave under what that vile woman did to him. He needed to stay alive, so he will play the quiet and obedient soldier for now.

On the day of his experimentation, Doctor Simmons came over with an escort of soldiers in her wake. He didn't know why there needed to be an escort, but whatever made her comfortable in her high superiority wasn't his to deal with. However, as they came closer and closer to the laboratory, his stomach started to churn into knots. The churning rose to his chest, and he had to will himself to keep control of not immediately bolting.

Maybe that's why there's an escort.

They went down several sub levels where all of the technical testing took place. Turning right to a doorway that lead to a small laboratory with a large control panel and dozens of computer screens. Doctor Howard, and an Asian doctor were inside already, poking at a few of the buttons. The smell of antiseptic burned in EM-37's nostrils and he tried to breathe out of his mouth for the remaining time.

The left of the lab faced a thick glass window that looked into a large white room with a circular metal table and metal clamps. It looked like a modernized medieval torture device or something from a history book. He wondered just exactly what kind of experiment was this before Doctor Simmons interrupted his thoughts.

"This is Project Vector," she said to him. There was a gleam in her eyes as if she was proud of her creation. "This is what will make you a perfect soldier, EM-37. Years of precision and hard work has lead you to this very moment."

EM grunted at that and he placed a hand on the window as he looked into the testing area. There was nothing else but that metal table. For something that took years to make, you'd think that they'd make the table look a little more nicer. An uncertain feeling ran up and down his spine, like he had a suspicion that this wasn't going to end well. His instincts telling him to get the hell out while he still could, but if he did he would be shot and die anyways. There was nowhere left to go but here if he wanted to survive.