Abnormal {Book 1: Completed, Book 2: Ongoing}

Chapter 4

I feel ice slowly working its way through my veins, leaving my limbs frozen.

I can't move. 

I can't breathe as I stare down at my father's battered face. He doesn't seem to recognize me. I wonder if he's hallucinating. 

My worst nightmare has come to life, and I have no idea what I should do. 

Suddenly, the soldiers notice my presence, and every single one of them train their guns on me, with the exception of the one that's about to plant a bullet in my father's skull.

They slowly advance towards me, their movements eerily similar. When they're about five feet away, I notice that each and every one of the soldiers have the exact same facial features. 

They are clones.

I can taste bile in my mouth, and my throat constricts in fear. I ground my teeth in frustration as my feet stay rooted to the ground. 

I look around frantically, trying to find a weapon to defend myself. A knife suddenly materializes before me, and I snatch it up from the ground, gripping it in my sweaty palm.

"Surrender, or watch your father die," the soldier in the front says in a deep monotone. 

"Never," I hiss. These people are responsible for my family's death. These people are responsible for all the suffering I had to endure while living on the streets. Red clouds my vision as a strange feeling of battle lust overtakes my senses.

The soldiers rush towards me as one, and I let loose a battle cry as I hold my ground, the knife held out in front of me.

I slash wildly like a feral cat, managing to draw blood with a few lucky cuts. However, their numbers overwhelm me within a few seconds, and the knife gets knocked out of my hand by one of the soldiers. He hits my wrist with the butt of his gun, and my only weapon clatters to the ground.

I let out a whimper of despair as the soldiers push me face forward onto the ground, binding my hands behind my back. I meet my father's hollow gaze through a gap between a soldier's legs. His eyes are narrowed with pain and exhaustion, his face contorted into a grimace.

I feel a heavy boot land on my back, and someone prods my back roughly with a gun. I can feel the cold, hard steel through my thin T-shirt, and I shudder.

"Any last words?"

I gasp. It isn't possible to die in this simulation, right? Or is it?

 The fear of death seems to awaken something in me. I feel a strong urge to fight back, to stay alive. I feel power humming through my veins, giving me strength and courage. I feel the heat course through my whole body, melting the ice inside me. 

I close my eyes.

I take a deep breath.

I imagine throwing out a net and capturing the conscious thoughts of all the soldiers around me, ensnaring their minds and binding them to my own. 

And then I feel it. The waves and waves of thoughts and memories that flood into my mind. I gasp and my eyes fly open as I struggle to contain all of their emotions. Their desires. 

Their hatred towards Abnormals.

My fingers ball into fists, and I grit my teeth, envisioning the soldiers lining up in a single file line. I envision them gripping the barrels of their shiny black guns and pressing the muzzles against their foreheads. 

I can feel some of them trying to push back against my command, but I tighten my grip, twisting the fibers of their minds until they have no choice but to obey.

The boot is lifted from my back. I hear the thud, thud, thud of ten pairs of military boots as the soldiers line up in front of me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see them raise their guns and press them against their heads. Their eyes are blank and staring, devoid of any emotion, as if they have already accepted their fate. 

I picture them turning off the safety. The sound of ten clicks combined into one echo loudly in the chamber. It is deafening to my ears.

I don't realize that I am crying until I can feel the salty taste of tears in my mouth. 

My fingernails dig deep into the flesh of my palm, drawing blood. I bite down hard on my lower lip, and with my last shred of willpower, issue the last command.

I force them to pull the trigger. 

Ten gunshots ring out in the room...

Ten bodies thud to the ground...

and ten soldiers fall face forward into a pool of their own blood.

I hear a quiet beep. My father disappears. The corpses disappear. The rope tied around my wrists disappear. The entire room vanishes, and is replaced by glass walls.

I lie there on the ground with my left cheek pressing against the cold concrete, too stunned and exhausted to get up.

A pair of shiny black shoes come into view.

Then I hear a voice. It's not Adrius's. It's foreign, yet still oddly familiar in some strange way. 

"Well done, my dear."

I look up.