She Was Just A Child (PART 2)

CHAPTER 13: SHADOWS IN THE MIND

The KorTac base was unusually quiet in the early hours of the morning. The only sounds were the distant hum of machinery and the faint rustling of the wind against the walls. The team had settled into their routines, but the events of the past weeks still lingered in the back of everyone's minds. Tension simmered beneath the surface, an undercurrent that no one could ignore.

Dian's quarters were dimly lit, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting shadows on the walls. She lay in her bed, the sedatives still coursing through her veins, leaving her drowsy and disoriented. But beneath the haze of medication, her mind was far from at rest. Her dreams were plagued by flashes of memories she couldn't quite place, fragments of a past that eluded her grasp.

As she drifted between sleep and wakefulness, the memories began to take shape. She saw glimpses of her childhood, of a life before Konig had found her. There were flashes of a cold, sterile environment, of harsh voices and unfeeling faces. She remembered pain, both physical and emotional, and a constant sense of fear. These memories were the echoes of a past she had long tried to forget, but they resurfaced now, relentless and unforgiving.

In her dream, she was a child again, no more than six or seven years old. She was standing in a dimly lit room, her small hands clutching a ragged doll. The room was cold, the walls a dull gray, and the air heavy with the scent of antiseptic. She looked around, her wide eyes filled with fear as she searched for something—anything—that could offer her comfort.

But there was nothing. The room was empty, devoid of warmth or life. The only sound was the soft hum of machinery in the background, a constant, monotonous drone that only heightened her anxiety. She was alone, trapped in a place that felt more like a prison than a home.

Then, a door creaked open, and a figure stepped into the room. It was a man, tall and imposing, with a cold, calculating gaze. He wore a white lab coat, the fabric pristine and stark against the drab surroundings. His presence sent a shiver down her spine, and she instinctively took a step back, clutching her doll tighter.

"Fifteen," the man's voice was sharp, almost mechanical. "It's time for your test."

The name sent a jolt of fear through her. Fifteen. It wasn't her real name, but it was the only name they ever called her. She didn't know why they called her that, only that it meant she was different from the others. Different in a way that made her valuable to them.

The man stepped closer, his gaze never wavering. "Come with me," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for disobedience.

She hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn't want to go with him, didn't want to face whatever test he had in store for her. But she knew that refusal would only lead to punishment, and the fear of that was enough to propel her forward. With trembling steps, she followed him out of the room, leaving the safety of her corner behind.

The hallway they walked down was long and sterile, the walls lined with doors that all looked the same. She didn't know where they were going, only that it was somewhere she didn't want to be. The man's footsteps echoed against the hard floor, a steady rhythm that matched the beating of her heart.

They stopped in front of a door, and the man pressed a code into the keypad beside it. The door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a room that was even colder and more clinical than the one she had just left. In the center of the room was a chair, its metal surface gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights. Straps were attached to the arms and legs, and she knew without being told that they were meant for her.

"Sit," the man commanded, his voice devoid of any emotion.

She didn't move at first, her legs frozen in place. The sight of the chair filled her with a deep, primal fear, one that she couldn't fully understand. But the man's patience was thin, and he grabbed her arm, his grip bruising as he dragged her toward the chair.