HUMAN-LESS

Chapter 4: Endling

22:50

My eyes settle on the wound as the little bullet moves inside the soft tissue. The injured site is moderately painful and swollen and that compromises the functionality of the joint.

There's no use crying about it.

The windowless bathroom, which is dimly lit, smells like bleach. The wall on the left is as black as my heart and the right one is strangely blank. It's not something pleasant to look at.

I sit down on the ugly synthetic carpet that is already saturated in red body fluid. The bullet's entry point is visible and blood is dripping from it.

I wipe clean a small kitchen knife, then I wedge out the bullet slowly. It doesn't take long to remove it.

Ira keeps talking on the other side of the door - his fragile heart insists on beating. He seems upset by the way his voice is shaking but all I feel is the damp carpet.

Nothing will ever be the same again for him because he cares for broken things like me which means this won't end well for him because I know all too well the biggest danger is the one standing right behind him.

Ira is removing the door hinges. What will he do when he finds out the cure is his worst nightmare? Something terrible will happen; anything from dirty consequences to broken trust on long cold nights. Rules don't apply here.

There is no middle ground. No way home.

I move up, put the knife and the bullet on the sink, then focus on the wound to stop the healing.

"In memory of when I cared." I smirk and it's scary what a smile can secrete.

Something inside this heart keeps dying - but that's not what stands out most in my memories.

I check my appearance in the mirror. I look like prey, not appealing, but the kind that's been well hunted. I take a deep breath and attempt to run my hands through my hair.

The door falls down quickly making a lot of noise while dust fills the entire bathroom making Ira choke so I help him out. He is lightheaded, meaning he probably forgot to eat or something else humans are supposed to do.

They all look at me in this strange way but Penny takes a step forward. She has the most colorful mind and her heart is made of gold.

You can see it in her eyes. Her story is far from over.

I sit down to let her clean my shoulder.

"Please return to your stations. The situation in under control." We all hear Penny say that and they actually obey. Potentially dangerous people never comply with anything.

The smell of anesthetics awakens memories long forgotten. Under my chest lies a bitter heart. Truly, nothing changes behavior like pain does.

Penny gives Ira a protein bar to eat. His left brow rises higher than the other and the Titanic-sized adult human male carries out a whole-hearted laugh.

"Almost done. You did well by removing the bullet." Penny seems pleasantly impressed. Her reaction isn't extreme.

"Are you allergic to any medications?" Penny asks. "Just in case you need any."

"No." I try not to laugh, pushing the urge deep down somewhere and putting on my serious human-like face.

"What should we call you?" She looks directly into my eyes, which means she is interested in having this conversation, so I break the eye contact. I have no feelings to conceal or curiosity regarding her small talk.

Ira manages to hide his interest quite well though.

"Sage." I lie for obvious reasons.

Penny nods, accepting my answer, and then calmly leaves.

Welcome to hell.

Dedication to: EveryVoiceMatters , WritersDefence , nomorescars , Feminist_Ideologies & notallareheroes_