HUMAN-LESS

Prelude

Abandoned warehouse with an underground facility built in 1871, main entrance.

January 4th, 1991.

'No Trespassing.'

Like the rain and the mud aren't bad enough.

I slow my pace down, not wanting to reach my destination, but there's no avoiding it.

I hold on to my own temper.

To be honest I never liked it here. I'd be happy to forget all of it because some things are better left buried, like my father.

He means nothing in my life now.

Think about something else. Anything, but him.

As a child, this was home. It wasn't comfortable or warm, but it was all I knew.

I put one foot in front of the other. The warehouse holds the same distinctive, sickly-sweet odor and the small building looks like it's ready to give up and fall down. Every window is broken and the frames are all rotten; roof tiles are still missing and several rooms have no floor at all.

I walk in. Home sweet home.

I do not like things which remind me that I have been here before.

As soon as I reach the last step I see the metal framed bunk-beds and stainless steel toilets in the corner.

This is where my story began, where my innocence died because monsters were made right here. This was home for I-no-longer-wish-to-parent-this-child. We developed survival behavior. That's the kind of thing that kids teach each other.

I close my eyes and think back. Each morning at six thirty a nurse would come and tell us to form a straight line. She used to write something on her small notebook and leave.

I know I was stupid to hope for anything.

I force myself to shove aside those worries.

On the other side of the warehouse is a pantry full of food, obviously out of date. We were allowed to have a bowl of cabbage both every day if we were good; if we did what we were told to do; most of us were.

The organization father worked for demanded a way to make soldiers stronger, faster and hard to kill. No one noticed when children went missing.

One hour later I am able to find the last two parallel passageways. Each one runs through the length of the building.

The first passageway is empty. No trail of dead animals; no humans; nada; not even insects. Silence; the last thing I need now. And it may already be too late. They might be gone.

Male voices erupt from behind me, one soft and low, the other very angry.

I take a step forward but turn around to look at them. Three of them are here: Thomas, Charlotte, and Edward.

We're all silent for a minute.

They all look exactly the same: flaky skin, black veins, open wounds which are unmistakably infected. All are fully blind and barely breathing. They still wear hospital gowns yet they aren't patients waiting to be saved.

"You look so pretty Sapph-rie" says Charlotte. "I missed you." She always said that to me when we were little girls. We both liked to draw flowers on the wall. Next to our beds. She also had the lowest pain tolerance out of all of us.

"Make it quick." Thomas closes his eyes.

"Tell the world I'm going home." I hear the smile in his voice. Edward lived with his uncle before. He was named after him. The old man spent the rest of his life looking for him. He never found him.

Charlotte takes a deep breath then chokes out what she was thinking. "Don't leave her there. I beg you." She stares at me. I stare at her and nod. No, I will not Charlotte that means.

Charlotte lets herself smile.

"You have witnessed horrors others cannot imagine." Out of the corner of my eye, I see them nod. Damn it, I need to pull myself together.

I never say goodbye. I can't. I just snap their heads. I make it quick. I let them go.

I know it sounds strange but I thought my choices would be the end of my troubles. It sounds so simple, but it's not. There are wounds that never stop bleeding. Years go by, but some people are never forgotten. Some wrongs can never be righted.

Some memories refuse to stay dead and buried six feet deep in.

For a moment, I see us, Thomas, Charlotte, Edward and myself, drawing flowers on the wall. The boys complain about how they hate the daisies, but continue to sketch them for Charlotte and me. 

Author's note: tomorrow will be a very busy day for me, so I'm updating a few hours earlier.

Human-less has now over 4k reads and that means a lot, thank you.