The Darker Side of Me

Plots

I jolt awake in the commander's room, hands clapping to my ears. But the Sound, blessedly, is gone. My fingers wander towards a knot on my head, then slip down. I'm bleeding again. I must have hit my head when I fell. I track the blood down my neck, then furrow my brow as I feel a rectangular lump at the base of my skull. Odd. I trace the shape. A computer chip.

Wait.

That is what makes the Sound. It must be wired into my nervous system. It could probably kill me, if the commander saw fit. It could do... almost anything. Cruel surgeons. Even if I had access to sharp items, I wouldn't be able to remove it without dying of blood loss.

My twisted mind is racing. If the culprit is a chip, that means the soldiers have matching chips to activate the circuit. To do that, their chips must also be wired into their nervous systems. If it could be turned around, they would suffer instead. I can't do anything about it now, but I file the information away, saving it for... wait. Who am I saving it for? Who despises the government enough that they would use it? Only the rebellion, but why would I help them? Again, I have the frustrating sense that I should know something, but I don't. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to remember.

To survive, I need to know everything I can. To win, I need to use it all against the commander.

My eyes fly open when I hear the heavy door creak.

"I never would have expected it from you," he says sharply, leaping straight to the heart of the matter..

"That's literally my purpose," I snap.

"You did not let me finish."

I regard him coldly, but keep my mouth shut, intent on not provoking him enough that he uses the Sound. That is, the chip that makes the Sound. It is no longer an entity on its own.

"Others, yes," the commander says angrily. "But not you. I thought you had more control!"

"I lose control when people try to hold me down," I shoot back.

He looms over me where I sit, cross-legged on the carpeted stone floor, trapping me in his frigid gaze. I imagine lava radiating from my chest all the way to the tips of my fingers, setting me on fire long enough to melt his ice.

There. I can move again. The ritual took no longer than a few seconds. I lazily lift my head to stare him directly in the eyes. I change my approach. Maybe if I get him angry enough, he'll reveal a weakness I can exploit. When I sarcastically yawn, he loses it.

"I will not have you attacking my men!" he shouts. "And I will not stand idly by while you do!"

Good, but not good enough. I need him so angry that when I attack, he will lose all self-preservation skills, and I can kill him without evoking the Sound. I smirk cruelly. His sudden anger reminds me of a young toddler. He breathes deeply through his nose and regains composure.

"You will not attend the mission tomorrow, nor any this week."

A detached growl edges into hearing. It takes me a moment to realize that the rumbling comes from my throat. I bare my teeth at him, increasing the creepiness of it all, but he continues unfazed.

"You will remain here, under lock and under guard. Behave, and you can come next week. We'll be taking down the main rebel base. And I will let you kill as many of them as your heart desires."

The growl softens, and I curve my lips around my bared teeth.

"I have a scouting mission," he states suddenly. He throws a heavy blanket at me. It smacks me in the face and I let it, too caught up in my morbid fantasies to catch the stiff wool.

"Get some sleep," the commander says shortly, before heading out the door. It swings shut, and I hear an auto-lock engage. I curl up on the floor, aware of the camera trained on me, a single burning eye staring into my soul. But I don't sleep. I plan.

The second they put a weapon in my hand, I will destroy all the rebels in my path. Then, I will whip around, and before he can stop me, I will end Commander Teague.