The Darker Side of Me

Bloodied

 I move to stretch when I wake, but find my arms bound to my side in at least ten different places. Each. I'd call this overkill, but it is me we're talking about. Gloriously dangerous.

I dimly note the pain at the base of my skull and the top of my head, then dismiss it. I've been through much worse. So I lazily blink my eyes open, only to find the blue-eyed commander from earlier sitting across from me in the backseat of his personal transport.

"Here we are again," I smirk.

"Here we are," he responds levelly.

"Where are all your guards?"

"I don't need them."

I cackle. "Yes. You do."

The backseat fills with an unnerving silence, for him at least. I quite like strange silences.

The miles pass by, and I grow bored. I use the time to attempt to discover his weakness. He's in perfect physical health. But there is always a weakness. There must be some attribute to his personality that makes him soft. I can't find it yet, but I will. So I start staring at him, pleased that he is always the first to look away. He betrays no emotion. Soon even unnerving him becomes dull. So all of a sudden, I lunge at the man, snapping my teeth. He falls back into the seat, apparently panicked.

But then he does something odd. He smiles. Smiles. And then he twists his hand. A painful screeching drowns my head in Sound, and I fall to the upholstered floor in agony, longing that my hands were free so I could cover my ears.

I thrash about as best as I can while covered in oldways rope until what feels like an eternity later, the horrible sound abates. I lie panting on the carpet, despising the tears tracking down my face.

"Do you see now?" the man whispers, placing a hand on my cheek in what could almost be an affectation. But his grip tightens until his fist is filled with my hollow flesh.

"I control you."

My wet eyes flick upward to meet his, hard as ice.

"Well?" he says.

I do the only thing I can.

"Yes, Commander," I say, already plotting how to take him down.

_____________________________________________

"Isn't she that girl we took?"

"Yeah, the 'useful' one."

"She'd be more useful in my bed."

The soldiers continue to discuss me as the commander marches me in, still bound. I turn my head to the whisperers, grinning at them. I feel the madness flash in my eyes. And I embrace it.

They all stumble back.

"Whoa, man. Her eyes. She... she's one of them!" someone yelps, whispering the last word. Confusion erupts in their ranks.

"He said he'd never take one! Called them unnatural!"

"I wouldn't suggest squeezing her rump now, Lou. She'd tear you apart!"

The clamoring only grows as the commander roughly guides me through the walls of men standing by their bunks, at attention, but still running their mouths. The man who had carried me on that long ago day shrinks back as I pass him by. I flash a larger grin for his benefit, chuckling when he trips over the plasma gun he's left carelessly on the ground and falls to his rear.

"Private Lou Gental, you should know by now to store your weapon properly," the commander scolds lightly, pausing by the man stretched out on the concrete floor. He gulps, eyes wide, lingering on my diabolical face.

I start laughing. The room falls silent. I don't care. I don't stop.

Not until the commander lifts his hand threateningly. I fall silent, afraid.

Fear.

Disgusting.

"S-sir?" A young soldier, likely a new recruit, raises his hand halfway. The commander inclines his head, granting the teenager permission to speak.

"W-with all due respect, Commander Teague... wh-why did you accept her? She'll kill us all!" He eyes me fearfully.

"Tell me, Jackson, have you heard of the failsafe?"

"N-no, sir."

"Observe."

With no other warning, he twists his right hand, making a strange shape with his fingers. The shrieking fills my ears again, boring deeper, evoking every terrible memory and dragging me into the darkest, most twisted regions of my mind.

I embrace pain. I welcome the chance to feel anything. But not this. Not this.

I don't even realize I'm writhing on the ground until he reverses his gesture and lifts the torture. My scream dies and I curl up as best I can covered in rope. I hate him. I hate him. And I will find a way to kill him for doing this to me.

"B-b-b-but what if you're not there?" I hear as if from miles away. "What if she attacks one of us?"

"I will always be there. On the minuscule chance that I am not, each of you have the ability to incapacitate her. You will not break her. Not as I can. But if the time comes, you will be able to send her to her knees long enough to escape."

"Or kill her?" a new voice asks.

"Absolutely not," the commander states firmly. "She is the most highly polished sociopath that the labs have created. Jen-" he stops himself. "Project Two-oh-Eight may very well help us crush the rebellion."

"If she doesn't crush us first," someone mutters.

Commander Teague finally loses his carefully cultivated patience.

"Enough!" he shouts. "Yes, she is dangerous! Yes, she could defeat all of you at once! But I am the most highly trained officer in the army. I will keep her under control. Do not doubt me!"

On the contrary, I think, please do. I am more powerful than him. You should all be afraid.

Because I, at long last, have found the commander's weakness. And I intend to exploit it.