The Project

The Need to Feel Alive

-Arista's POV-

I sit in my cold room, the blank walls and the silence making my thoughts feel all the louder and more urgent. I was told by Nick in the hospital earlier that the stranger I fought over Cole also wielded fire, and did it well.

Who was he? And why did his eyes seem so familiar?

He was not a teenager like me or Cade or Nick. He was a grown man, with dark shoulder length hair he had pulled back, low, against the base of his neck. He looked so...aloof. Like no matter what he did, he would feel no guilt.

What makes a person like that?

I for one keep seeing brief flashes from earlier, each time making me feel weaker and weaker. I fought because I had to, but why did I have to? Because of that goddamn computer chip.

I stand up and pace my room, the infuriating feeling of helplessness filling me.

I don't want to be a pawn. I don't want to kill. I don't want this life.

I should have escaped when I had the chance, but in the moment my only instinct was to protect my friends. I hear the buzzer sound, alerting me that it is dinnertime. I don't think I will ever eat again, or at least, not today.

I will not let Leona make me his toy, I will crumble this system from the inside if it's the last damn thing I do.

I move to the mirror in my bathroom, scanning the bruises around my collarbone and the cuts and scrapes. They pale in comparison to Nick's wounds which have him in the hospital for the next several days.

My face has changed since I came here, it has aged. The softer edges have sharpened, my eyes are always alert. My once strawberry blonde hair has somehow darkened to an auburn shade, and my eyes are deep green. My curves are still in existance, but months of training and military rations has toned the muscles in my arms, my stomach, my legs. I look older than I am, and I don't look like the me that was brought here so long ago.

-Stranger from the Cliffs POV-

She did a good job fucking it all up, thats for sure. All the work I have done in the past years was mostly destroyed. We thought the cliffs would be isolated enough to work in peace. We were so close, and now we have to start again. I smile grimly, the girl actually survived and did some damage. I hope I at least wounded the boy, the water-flinger. They have no idea what they are a part of in the Project. The things they will be made to do make the small carnage today look like a game.

I wish I knew why Leona sent wielders to find us today

Because he wants to fuck with me that's why.

I pull my hair back into a small ponytail at the base of my neck, noticing how long it's getting.

I should cut it soon.

The tattoos on my arms and chest intrigue me as I stare at them, each one telling a story. I remember how pissed he was when I got my first one, which only made me want to get more.

-3 Weeks Later-

-Arista's POV-

"Please, just give me your hand!"

The eyes stare at me, devoid of emotion as once again I am flung from the cliff and gasp, waking up as my body hits the rocks I know are inevitably beneath me.

I sit up in bed, and check the time.

3:00 am of course...

The dream comes often, always ending in my supposed death. But the longer it occurs, the more I dream it, the realer and closer it seems. It is almost more of a vision than a dream, and the thought makes me shudder.