I Am Annika

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I stand in front of the black door. It sits, waiting, as if telling me I have to make a choice; go in and face whatever lies behind it, or walk away, and get consequence in a tenfold.

I put my hand on the cold knob, twisting it slowly and opening the door.

She was there, just as she always was.

If there was ever a constant in the world, it would be that Vanessa Arenil was always behind her desk, looking like she had been waiting for you all day.

"Soldier AAA," Vanessa said cooly, her icy eyes flitting over me, unimpressed.

"Vanessa." I replied, no emotion in my voice.

"Commander Arenil to you," she snarled. She sat back, collecting herself.

"Soldier AAA, your task force had been on the leader boards for months now. I think it is time for you to train others joining us," Vanessa said. Authority was laced into her icy words.

"I do not wish to do that," I said, my voice almost robotic and inhuman.

She studied me. Her mind was racing, probably, trying to figure me out, pick my thoughts apart.

"Five times I have offered you this," she said, her tone rising, "five times. And each time, you decline. You do know that others would gladly have your head for that post?" She said, her teeth grinding mercilessly against each other.

"I do," I said, my tone bored.

Vanessa brought her fist down on the mahogany desk.

"I am tired of you declining. I give the orders, not you," she sneered.

"Yes, Commander."

"We caught some of the rebels. They are to be executed tomorrow morning." She said, her voice returning to its normal pitch.

I looked at her.

"You are the executer," she said, a small, feral smile spreading on her thin lips.

I showed no emotion.

"Yes, Commander."

She glared at me. She wanted me to show anger, or fear, or desperation- anything. I would not give it to her.

"The rebels are in cells 2A and 2B. Dismissed." She said, lacing her fingers together.

"Yes, Commander." I turned my back to her, stiffly walking from the room. As soon as the door shut behind me, I let out a small breath.

I did not want to train others.

I did not want them to become like me, barely human.

I did not want them to have to live the same life.

So I would not train them.

I walked down the stairs again, back to the pristine lobby. I approached a guard, who was standing tall outside the steel double doors leading to the cells.

"I'm reporting for an execution," I said. He nodded to me, standing aside and letting me through.

The prison sector of the government building had never been a pretty place. The walls were of stainless steel, and the fluorescent lights hurt to look at. Farther down the hall, I spotted the cells holding my prisoners.

My footsteps brought the quiet whispers to a sudden halt. My footfalls sounded like the end of the world to them.

I stand in front of the thick metal bars. I can make out the outline of a tall yet broad-shouldered figure.

"Are you going to kill me?" I was greeted by a male voice with a thick Irish accent. Not many of those in the city.

"I am supposed to," I said. "That is my order."

"Your their perfect little soldier, aren't you?" He sneered. I still couldn't make out his features.

"No." I said simply. I wasn't; not really.

"No?" There was mockery in his voice.

"It is not smart to insult your potential executer," I said, and he stopped, silent for the moment. I looked at him through the bars. He watched me with defiant eyes.

"Get up," I said, my tone commanding. He scrambled up, and no amount of backtalk could cover the fear on his face.

I unlocked the cell, and put my gun to his back.

"Don't do anything stupid." I hissed. His back was rigid. I led him out the way I had come, nodding to the guard, who looked as if he was restraining from spitting on the rebel.

He looked around the lobby, his eyes wide and afraid. The secretary paid us no attention.

I marched him out to what us soldiers call 'Worlds Exit'. But really, it's a small courtyard where the government brings people to die.

His hands shake from where they are tightly clasped behind his back. I stand him in the centre of the dusty thing that barely counts as a courtyard.

He faces me, and I can finally make out his light green eyes, his coal black hair, his muscular shoulders.

I finger the gun, teasing the trigger.

"You may want to close your eyes," I said. He didn't.

"Is there anything you would like to say?" I asked him.

"Yes. Your kind is always the same," he snarled, "intent on killing, and watching people suffer." I nodded, unmoved. I had heard this many, many times before.

I raised the gun, aiming at his glistening forehead. He stared me in the eyes.

I squeezed the trigger.

A shot ran out.

Glass shattered.

I was still staring at him, my gun pointed away at the now destroyed video camera.

His eyes were wide.

"The wall. Climb. Now." I hissed. He dazedly started towards the wall, nimbly hoping up and standing on it. I could just make out the tops of the city's skyscrapers.

He stood on the wall, looking down.

"I was wrong," he said.

"I know." I said.

"Why..?" He asked, quizzical.

"Because," I said, "Some people deserve to be free."

He nodded.

"I'll give you freedom one day, too." He said. Then he hopped over the wall and was gone.

Freedom.

I wonder what it felt like.