Sin: Path of Poison

Chapter 11 (Sin's Past)

Every day we practiced. We practiced martial arts mostly, but there was also history, poetry, writing, math, music, everything needed for us to blend in during any given situation. We were actors, masters of everything, yet hollow. The lessons were cruel, merciless. Make a mistake, the consequences were harsh. A broken bone, no meals for the week, blindfolded and left alone to find your way back. Sometimes we were tossed into a giant pit in the ground and forced to kill vicious animals with our bare hands.

We were periodically tortured, not only for making a mistake, just because we should have the ability to endure any torture. It became obvious who the top performers were, but rather than receiving a reward, the kids at the top were worse off. Pushed harder.

During our five years of training we witnessed our numbers dwindle, from the forty plus kids that arrived after the arduous hike, eighteen remained. We couldn't be considered close though. Other than all huddling under the same roof at night we shared no other cooperation.

Constantly pitted against each other, there were matches we preferred over others. I knew going up among the two I watched from the beginning would result in an injury of some sort, so I avoided them when possible. Seeking out easier prey guaranteed no injuries, for me at least.

Throughout the years we were forced to consume various poisons, but in small quantities. There appeared to be no rhyme or reason to it, as if they were blindly using us for experiments. A few of the children died from this alone.

By the time we turned twelve, nearly going onto thirteen, an entire team of adults rode in. We'd never seen them before. As we lined up in front of them they walked down the line and separated us into three groups. Doctors stood in front of us asking our teachers random questions. Based on the results we were directed to different tents.

Once inside a tent, we stood, waiting for the next orders. As we waited I could hear the sound of jogging in the distance, from my estimation another group of children like us had arrived. Adding to the six that were already in my tent another twelve were added.

The doctors came in, handing each of us a cup of a nearly black substance. We drank it as ordered and dropped to our knees as excruciating pain spread through our bodies. A handful of kids died as they dropped, the doctors grabbed them by the limbs and pulled them outside for someone else to deal with. After what seemed like hours of lying on the ground, I was finally able to pull myself up again. Half of the children in my tent were gone. Our eighteen went down to nine. Most of my fellow classmates were gone, only one other remained out of the six that I knew.

"How are the results?" A man I'd rarely seen came in to ask.

"Fifty percent fatality." A doctor replied.

"Not good," replied the other man. "The other tents were closer to twenty five percent. Any of the top remaining?"

"That one there and over there." The doctor pointed towards myself and one other girl I didn't know.

"Subject A3 didn't make it?" The man asked.

"No, he was one of the first to go." The doctor sounded disappointed in the boy. A proven waste of effort and resources. The conversation stopped there.

They'd never called us by names, always just looking at whomever they spoke to. It was odd to hear this for the first time. After a while the other kids started getting up, following my lead, they sat on the floor where they were.

The moon was high in the sky as the last kid sat up, finally the doctors told us to go to sleep. We went back to the shelter I'd been sleeping under for the last five years. It didn't seem right, allowing these invading kids to share our space. In the dark I could see mounds of bodies, the kids from the other groups had already returned. I found a spot along the perimeter and laid down, my body occasionally twitched from the toxins within.