Chapter 15 - Wendigo Psychosis

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Participant Z-7-4


I've killed eight opponents successfully. I am injured, and if I let myself feel it, there's a creek in my ribs when I take a deep breath. However, I refuse to feel the extent of my injuries until I can lick my wounds and humility in private. I'm not completely sure why father let me kill them all, but I assume he wanted to see if I still had my edge. If I am still cold when it comes to taking another human's life with my bare hands.

The answer is yes.

I haven't felt this free in my brutality in so long. To let loose, and rob another man's last breath for no other reason other than victory. At last, it is my turn to take, and to take as much as I wish and how I wish.

I get to take the same way those men took from me. They took a part of me that I'll never get back, and I look forward to the day that I can finally take something from them. They robbed something from me, stripped me bare, and looted my humanity.

It's unfortunate that it took my father coming back from the dead for me to realize that this life has no room for humanity. No room for emotions.

My ninth opponent approached the sparring mat, he looked me up and down and it's obvious that he's taking stock of what injuries I must have by now. I have a split lip, and my mouth continues to fill with my blood after I bit my tongue with my sixth opponent, there is an obvious shake and rattle in my breathing, and I have struggled to hide a small limp after the fourth guy kicked my knee in. If it weren't for the numb, I'm sure I'd feel my bones screaming for mercy.

No room for humanity, no room for emotions.

However, that was true until I watched my new opponent roll his shoulders and neck back, and I'm struck with a memory of Dean.

I saw him in my dreams last night too, and I held him a little tighter because I knew when I would wake, he'd be gone. Of course moments like this make me feel like I have lost everything. This bunker, this training, my father... This is my new life. And my new life will cost me my old one.

"I'm Ilas. Also known as Participant Z-7-5, but you can call me Five." He stretches out a hand in greeting, and despite him being the first one to make an introduction, the fighter in me doesn't move. I don't shake his hand in response, instead, I collect the blood pooling in my mouth and I spit it right into the crook between his thumb and pointer finger. We both stare at it as it clings to his skin, but slowly drips onto the mat between us. The silence of the room is disrupted by the drip, drip, dripping.

"I've grown bored, Participants." My father's voice draws us from our hypnosis. "Say, how about some music? Participant Z-7-4, what do you say?"

I know the smile that contorts my face is nothing short of monstrous, I must be a sight to see. My face is pale and waxy with the lack of color in my cheeks, the wild in my eyes, and my teeth coated and dripping in crimson.

"Play 'Whore of Babylon' by Zheani." The song choice is simple, one that has been in my head for the days I've been stuck here.

"Begin." My father says just as the music begins to play in the speakers, loud and haunting.

The words wrap me in every syllable as I begin circling my prey.

The woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet color...

I rush behind Five, and I jump onto his back, again ignoring the fire burning behind my rib cage.

And decked with gold and precious stones and pearls...

I lock my ankles in front of Five's torso, and the crook of my elbow finds a nice spot to slip when I secure it in place at the front of his throat.

Having a golden cup in her hand, full of abominations and fitness of her fornication...

I use my free hand and press on the back of his head, foreign his throat to press harder against my elbow, ensuring he can't get another breath in. Five counteracts my attack from behind, and slams himself backwards letting his full body weight crush against my front, the air I try to breath in is hot and forced and so thin that I can't grasp a full inhale.

And upon her forehead was a name written...

I don't think, I just do. I let out an animalistic shriek and my teeth clamp onto his ear. I lock my jaw into place and I pull, and gnaw, and pull.

Mystery, Babylon the Great, The Mother of Harlots and Abominations of the Earth...

Finally the flesh releases from his body, and he's become a bloody mess of panic releasing his hold on me and frightfully clasping on the side of his head where his ear once was, but unfortunately his ear now resides in between my teeth. Without thinking, I release him from between my legs and crawl out from under him, in a feral stance I back away on my fingertips and toes, still not releasing his ear from my lips. I smile at him, and I can almost see deranged reflection in his fright filled eyes. And just as the terror comes full circle on his face... I chew.

"That's enough for today." Fathers voice comes through the speakers and the music is cut short. The grunt that leaves me is not human, but I've decided I'm done playing this weakling human girl. I am not a girl. I am not Zoe. I am Participant Z-7-4. The machine. The monster.

"Participant Z-7-4, spit out Z-7-5's ear please. It's gross." My fathers voice is loud and almost brings me back to earth.

Obeying out of better judgment, I spit out the ear, but choose not to wipe the blood now coating me from jaw to toes. Five has finally stood up and before he tries to rush me, I lift my chin in preparation, and he decides against it. He was the largest of the nine opponents today, and even though he was the easiest to disarm, he is the only one that father stopped me from killing.

"Z-7-5, go ahead and get cleaned up and wait for your escort to bring you to your cell." Five nods, and exits from the room. Once the room is empty, my two familiar orderlies enter the gym. I don't miss the shudder of disgust running through them; and this satisfies me.

To my surprise, my father enters the room after them.

"What the fuck was that?" Father asks. "That was actually fucking horrifying." He crosses his arms and signals for the orderlies to continue what they are meant to be doing. They both start to detain me the same way they have the last few days. Shock collar, cuffs, cattle prod.

"That's funny." I chuckle, a humorless laugh escaping me.

"What is?" Father asks.

"You're disgusted by my actions, but you are the one that taught me to feast on flesh." 

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