Shattered (Completed)

LAST CHAPTER - Freedom

"Your father gave you up when you were seven." Mr. King begins solemnly, his voice absent and softer than it used to be. 

He had given me a ham and cheese sandwich that I nibble on ravenously as he speaks to me. A woman had brought in two chairs for us to sit more comfortably, one of my hands shackled to the chair for restraint and "safety" purposes. The chain is long enough to hold the plate while the other holds the sandwich.

It has too much pepper, though, so I eat slowly.

"They worked for Moonhit Co., actually. . ." He nods, smiling. "Your father, Daniel, he. . . You look like him. You lived in the Cylinder after the Event, chemicals flowing in and out to keep you alive." Mr. King looks to the side, guilt and remorse coming off him in heavy waves. 

Wait. Daniel? Like the black-haired Daniel that got me after I was struck by lightening? The Daniel that got me out of the Cylinder for the second time? Daniel? No, certainly there are more Daniels here. 

Event?

"An Event," he says as if reading my mind, "is when someone becomes a Moonhit. You, when you were seven, were struck by lightening. Your brother, he had. . . killed himself." The words very clearly make him uncomfortable. He shifts uneasily. "Your mother, Celia Brown, she had died. And your brother couldn't live with your father, who wanted to turn him in for being a Moonhit as well - we don't know his abilities, as Daniel never told us and he ended his life too early to tell. So he had killed himself." 

Mr. King's back straightens as he gets more comfortable with where the story led. "Your grandfather, Daniel's father, had been taking care of you while your father worked here, taking care of other Moonhits and helping them.  You ran out one night because of your brother and mother's death, and your Event took place then. Your father and another woman from the lab found you, took you in, while Florence had no say. He didn't deserve a say." He shakes his head, disapproving of Florence for whatever he had done. 

My Florence. My Florence. He's real. I almost cry out with happiness, but Mr. King continues talking and I silence myself instantly. 

"Ever since you were seven, you lived in the Cylinder, in the Fake Room, because we didn't know what to do with your incredible abilities. We gave you this strip of color-changing hair so we could determine your mood. Daniel had offered up murdering you, but painlessly, because he didn't want the chance of you waking up and hating him." He rolls his eyes. "And then they came. The rebellion. They don't have title for their nasty crew." Mr. King drags a hand over his face with a long sigh, making me tired as well. "Florence led them. We killed him, but the rebellion took his body. Florence was a Moonhit with the ability of immortality." 

So it's true, what Janice said. He really is immortal. Which would explain a lot of things.

"Florence broke you out. In the process, Daniel became persistent to get you back, so he took one of our Moonhit's to hijack the rebellion. That's where our little red-headed angel Janice came in."

Janice. The name sends shivers down my spine, and to think that he was sent to Florence just to get to me? I'm honored. But she's respected here? A 'little red-headed angel'? How can anyone ever think of a girl so savage, so insane like that? Is everyone here corrupt? Maybe I'm the only corrupt one.

"After you passed out in the office with Florence, you were sent to another reality so we could fix your fake one. You were getting suspicious, and we thought that if we could alter it to make it even more real, it would work. . ."

"Wait," I say, holding up a hand. "So everything up until the meeting with Florence was fake?"

He nods patiently. "Fake, but with real people." 

Everyone in the dream was real. Meaning Jason, the kiss. . . he wasn't real. Jason, the name, my brother's name. Gross? Or maybe it's got a deeper meaning. I don't want to think too hard about it, so I stick with the fact that there are two Jason's. If Jason isn't real, it means the cuts on Janice's arms done supposedly from Evan weren't real either. So had the thought of how good her flesh looked, which still made me shiver. The thought had been enticing, but now it just seemed like a silly, immature thought.

"Daniel then woke you up once the old reality was mended. He acted like a friend to you, and then took you. . . well, here." He waves his hand around the grey room as if it's something brilliant. He wears a proud smile as his blue eyes search mine. "So that's your story. Now, - "

"Where's Florence?" I look down at my nails, short and ridged from being gnawed on so many times. 

A confused, "Hm?" comes from him. "F-Florence? He's. . . well, he's still on the run with his little group."

"So they could save me." I say flatly, looking up at him. "They could burst in and save me again. And I could kill you right now." Because this is finally the real reality. Florence, Flora, Evan, Blaze, Teresa. . . all of them are real. And what am I? A free brain to toy with for these people?

No, that is not me. Certainly not.

"Save you?" He looks a little flustered and confused, laughing nervously. "Why on Earth would you want to be saved? This is the perfect place, with your dad, tests to contribute to science. . . Alex, with your ability, we could learn everything about Moonhit's." He smiles widely.

Without second thought, I burst to my feet and smack him. The chair isn't bolted to the ground, and skids across the floor as I move. What was the use of chaining me to this again? With a maniacal laugh that comes from the back of my mind, I swing the chair around. It collides with Mr. King's face, knocking him to the ground.

Guards rush in, trying to secure me, but I shake my head, because it's my choice.

"You. . ." I look down at Mr. King as the guards remain standing at the door like soldiers at attention. I've taken their minds, and I've told them what they are. Soldiers. At attention. "You don't deserve to be here, Mr. King."

With fluent movements, ignoring the chair chained to my wrist, I snatch a gun from the nearest guard and aim it at Mr. King's head. He looks up at me weakly, his face bloodied from the chair. The blood makes me snicker. It's his turn to be pathetic and unsure of what the next second of his life would hold.

He manages, "You're a little devil, Alex." before the bullet rips through his skull. He collapses back, dead.

And all I do is grin. My attention turns to the guards, who stand with absent gazes directed to the wall in front of them. I shove past them, the chair still skidding behind me, causing an incredibly annoying amount of noise.

Scientists stop in the hallway, watching me with wide eyes, but they don't even take a step or raise a finger. 

Because I'm free, and you'd better not mess with my freedom.

Else you'll feel the wrath of Alexandria Paige Griffin.