The Darker Side of Me

Probing

I fell asleep casually sprawled across the ample backseat of the commander's sleek transport. When I awake, I am myself again.

Oh god. I'd lost it. I'd actually lost it. That hadn't been an act. I really wanted to kill him. A normal, quick, clean kill wouldn't have been too out of the ordinary for me. But when I remember the morbid fantasies that played in my head... Well, I feel like I'm going to be sick. It's like there's this whole other side of me that I always tried to keep down, but now I'm allowing her to emerge. And she is stronger than I'd bargained for.

I don't want to pretend any more, but I can no longer feign sleep. I need to figure out what's going on. So I sit up.

"You're awake, then."

Commander Teague reclines in the cushioned seat directly across from me, an arm thrown over the headrest next to him and his ankle resting on his opposite knee. It's a power pose if I've ever seen one. Even so, guilt flares at the sight of him. I shield the emotion before I betray myself.

His piercing blue eyes narrow and hold me rigidly in my seat. He's searching me, probing my emotions. I stare back, a blank canvas except for the slight smile toying with my mouth. Try as I might, though, I can't think anything besides, Don't let him see you're in there. Don't let the darkness take over. Be careful. Careful.

I thought I passed his little test, but all of a sudden, he starts laughing. And he doesn't stop. He doubles over with mirth, clutching his abdomen. Somehow, when he laughs, he looks... normal. Like a regular twenty-three-year-old, only four years my senior.

I don't understand that at all.

In a natural reaction, my lips twitch upwards toward a true smile. I kill it before it reaches the rest of my face, forcing my features to remain blank. It's all that I can handle right now.

Teague straightens, still chuckling, shaking his dark hair back. He runs a hand through it to smooth the tangles he's made.

"You really had me fooled!" he exclaims. "And I don't fool easily. I actually thought that you were broken. I thought your sanity was fractured, that you had thrown it to the winds. Yet... somehow, impossibly, you... you're not," he concludes thoughtfully, regarding me with more respect than he'd ever shown before.

He's still testing you. I remain silent, a creepy turn to my lips.

"You can stop pretending," Teague prods. "I can see right through you."

I maintain the expression, hoping against hope that he's bluffing. This is all I have left. As a soldier, a manic soldier, I would have enough authority to free the others. I would command enough fear to keep the rest of the government off my trail. They would've sent me to the rebel bases as an assassin, and in time, I might have obtained what I needed. I would take them down from the inside. But if he sends me back now, I will never get out. They will never be fooled again. And I can never save the others.

At the continuation of my detached, murderous expression, Teague grows cold again. He sweeps his chin-length hair behind his ears and secures it with an elastic pulled from a pocket of his officer's jacket. When he speaks, that odd note of familiarity has gone from his tone. I feel relieved. This version of Teague, I understand.

"If you insist on maintaining this facade, I will continue on our current course and relocate you to the rehabilitation center, which I promise you is far worse than anything you went through at the penitentiary." He pauses, searching my face. My only reaction is to smile wider.

"Their job is to train you as a killer," he continues. "And killers are only born through trauma."

Fear flickers in my heart, but I refuse to let it show. Then he delivers the worst blow.

"To play a role this well, you have to understand it. You have to embrace it." He pauses once again. "At least some small part of you has to enjoy it. I should know."

Those words contain such bitterness that I almost break character. I want to know what trauma he's been through, then use what I learn to convince him that being a stone-cold soldier wasn't a good way to cope with his past. He is a dangerous enemy, but there must be some trace of humanity left. I just saw it.

I want to let the role go, but I don't. I keep my eyes focused on the dividing wall between us and the driver. What a testament to Teague's superiority complex- we don't need drivers any more, not with automatic transports. It's a power play. One that I could destroy. That would show him. My smile becomes a grimace. I fantasize about smashing the glass, crawling through the shards, bashing the controls in, then bashing something else in... something living... I mentally slap myself. What am I thinking?!

Teague has noticed. He's seen it all, inside and out.

"You see, to play a role, you have to become it," he expresses, his sympathy making him human again. "I imagine, even now you are torn between who you once were and who you now appear to be. And wondering by the day if you are truly that individual."

I feel my composure crumbling and scramble to put it back up, to erect new walls of stone.

"The facility will turn you into the latter," he warns. "If you act like a sadist, I will make sure you become one."

A good mile races by before he speaks again.

"Alternatively, you could drop the theatre performance. You could fully return to yourself- and join us. I would advocate on your behalf, and you could, in time, through devoted service, call for the discontinuation of the penitentiary. That is what you want, correct? I've seen it in your eyes."

My mouth twitches. I could rethink my plan. I could trick them... but no, not with Commander Teague around. If what he said is true, and he would 'advocate' for me, I'd be assigned to him. And chillingly, he understood me too well.

"If you return to your former self, but refuse to work with me-" he catches himself. "Us... Well, you're too valuable to kill and too sly to return to the penitentiary. You'd be placed in solitary confinement until you did agree, did understand, and committed to what's right.

"I know our methods are harsh," he adds, "and I myself do not agree with some of them. But ultimately, they serve a greater goal: unification. All of us, under one ruler, following the same rules? There would finally be peace. Can you imagine how wonderful that would be? And if it comes at a price, it's a price we're willing to pay. Once you learn from us, you'll understand."

As he talks about those concepts, an impassioned fire blazes in his eyes. He truly believes in what he is saying. He almost makes me believe it too. And finally, I understand how the government, a small cult formed many years ago, has drawn people in and taken control. Teague studies me once more. I let no emotions surface on the contours of my face. But I get the feeling he sees them anyway.

"So, what will it be?" he asks. "Will you surrender yourself to the madness? Give up on all that you are because of your pride? Or... will you finally embrace the truth? It is not too late to change our course." He leans forward, intensity radiating from those bright blue eyes. "Come with me, work with me, and you will never lose yourself. You will never become all that you hate."

Those words pierce my heart. I hesitate. But I know that if I did go with him, I would still lose myself. Only, this time it would happen slowly, so slowly that I wouldn't even realize it. If I went with him, even in defiance, they would never stop trying to turn me. And one day, they might succeed.

I had overcome half a year in the penitentiary. No matter how long I spend in rehabilitation, I know I can overcome that too.

I take a deep breath, wondering if it will be the last I ever breathe outside of unrelenting torment. The last one I ever breathe in full possession of myself.

I lock eyes with the commander.

Open my mouth.

And laugh.