It’s over. It’s all over. I can see the light of humanity again; piercing through the darkness they keep me enclosed in. I can return to my duty, return to saving humanity.
Except I don’t have any humanity left in me. Not enough to be worth anything at least. Black and white. It’s all so clear-cut for the simple-minded who never experience the hardships of battle, who never step onto a battlefield where guns fire round after round into the chest or the head of the enemy. But the line isn’t so distinct anymore. If my own fellow humans would torture me as a test to see I’m worthy enough to serve some superior, what exactly makes us worth more than the Covenant?
Why are we more important? Why is humanity more important than the lives of a different species? I don’t understand anymore. I probably won’t for a long time.
I ease my body onto the operating table and wait. An oxygen mask is placed over my mouth and nose, and strapped to my head. With a soft hiss, the gas begins to fill my lungs.
“Just keep breathing normally, SPARTAN.”
I watched the medics as they slowly added anaesthetic to my air. I hated being unconscious, the dark now a constant reminder of what they put me through. What he put me through.
A whole month. A whole month spent in that godforsaken room, allowing that man to damage me howsoever he pleased. A whole month of submitting myself to the pain he inflicted while not fighting back. Pain, darkness and rough hands. His cruel laugh echoing within the confines of the four walls that enclosed me. Burning itself into my memory.
“It’s just a test, B-312. It’ll be over before you know it.”
Really? It felt a lot more like years have passed. I feel like I’ve aged at least a decade. Strapped to that chair and caged, like a helpless civilian.
I hate being caged. I hate the ones who took away my humanity, who made me question whether my fellow humans are worth saving. I hate them. Every single one of them.
“It’ll only take a bit of time.” They said. Only a bit of time. Only a few lives which shouldn’t have ended. Only my sanity. It’s just a test.
But then, when hasn’t it been “just a test”?
The black engulfed me, pulling me into unconsciousness. Into a place where I was still who I had been. Who I would never be again.
“Are you sure you still want her? That wound in her leg... It’ll never function the way it used to. Shouldn’t we just get rid of her?”
No. I’m still useful. I can still fight. Just leave me be. Just leave you test subject be.
“Not yet. She’s still useful.”
Endless, terrifying, black. At least it’s only temporary. At least I’ll wake up again.
