Run With The Devil

Numb

Lyras pov

The light flickers on before the sun even rises. I'm used to waking up this early-it's always the same. A knock on the door, then they come in, cold and expressionless, carrying their needles. Ten more serums. Ten more doses of speed, pain, and whatever else they've decided to pump into me.

The needle pierces my skin, but I don't flinch. The sting has long since faded into something distant, something I've stopped reacting to. The liquid burns as it flows into my veins, spreading like wildfire, but I stay still. My body knows the drill.

The door closes, locking me in again.

"Time to run," the voice crackles over the speaker. It's always the same, always monotone, like I'm not a person, just a machine to them.

I stand, my legs aching as they always do after the injections, and walk to the center of the room. My chest tightens as the heart monitor sticks coldly to my skin. I take a deep breath and start running. Slow at first, but within seconds, the walls blur and the familiar rush of speed takes over.

Faster.

Faster.

Faster.

I'm a blur, moving so fast that the room becomes streaks of white, the walls disappearing as I push harder and harder. My heart pounds in my chest, but I ignore it. It's always like this. The pain starts in my legs first, then creeps into my chest, my lungs burning as they try to keep up with the speed. Every part of me feels like it's going to rip apart.

But today... today feels different.

I push harder, faster than I've ever run before. The walls blur past me, faster, until they almost disappear. But the pain-something's wrong. The pain doesn't come. I keep running, waiting for the familiar sting in my muscles, the ache in my bones, but... nothing.

No pain. No exhaustion.

Confused, I stop abruptly, my feet skidding on the floor as the room catches up with me, everything snapping back into place. I stand there, breathing hard, but my body feels... fine. My chest isn't tight. My legs don't burn. I don't feel like I'm about to collapse.

I raise a hand to my chest, pressing my palm against the place where the heart monitor is stuck. The rapid thud of my heartbeat is still there, but it feels calmer, like it's not fighting against me anymore.

"019, what's wrong?" the voice asks, breaking the silence.

I glance up at the glass wall where the scientists are watching me, their faces hidden behind the glare of the lights. For a second, I don't know what to say. What is wrong? Why does it feel so strange to not be in pain?

"I... I don't feel any pain," I say, my voice shaky. "Not anymore."

Through the glass, I see one of the scientists smile. It's not a kind smile. It's the kind they get when they think I'm doing something right, something they want. He scribbles something on his clipboard, then leans down, pressing a button to speak to the others. The sound cuts off suddenly, leaving me in silence as he talks to them, but I can see them nodding, agreeing on something I'm not part of. Like I'm not even here.

The smile on his face makes my skin crawl.

They've been pushing me for years-pushing me until my body was always on the edge of breaking, always teetering between pain and speed. But now... now I don't feel that edge anymore. Have I gone over it? Have I crossed some line?

I don't understand. And it scares me.

The scientists walk out, leaving the glass room empty except for me. I'm alone again, trapped in this white box with no answers. I try to calm my racing mind, but I can't shake the feeling that something's changed. Something they've been waiting for, and now that it's here, I don't know what it means.

I start running again, slower this time, but the speed comes naturally, like my body knows exactly what to do. There's no strain, no tension. Just movement. I pick up the pace, faster and faster, but it still feels... easy. Too easy. My heart beats steadily in my chest, not struggling like before.

I run and run, circling the room, and for the first time in as long as I can remember, I don't feel like I'm about to collapse. I don't feel like I'm going to shatter.

The walls blur around me, but instead of feeling trapped, something else fills me-a strange kind of freedom. Like I could run forever and never get tired. Never feel pain again.

I stop in the center of the room, breathing steady, my body calm. My mind, though, is far from calm. The way the scientist smiled at me, the way they just walked out without a word-it doesn't feel right. None of this feels right.

Why now? Why, after all these years, does it feel like the pain just... vanished?

I touch the number on my wrist-019-the only identity I've ever known. But for the first time, I feel like maybe I'm not just a number anymore. Maybe I'm something else now. Something they've been waiting for.

And I don't know if that's a good thing.

I walk to the corner of the room, sitting down on the floor, my back against the cold wall. I stare at the door, waiting, wondering what they're going to do next.

What happens when you're no longer just another broken subject?