07815

Chapter 1: Kill them inside

   All of them were born in cloning machines. They undrewent extreme insensitivity training since they were able to walk. Then army boot camps, because when you don't have feelings, you can't complain, because you can't give up. What about the failures, you ask? Sent to the Area 51 lab for weapon implant experiments. Hurt. Tortured. Made insane. Exterminated.
   07815 was like everyone. Pale. White-and-pink-haired. Blue-eyed. Slim. Scarred. Strong. Fast. Emotionless.
   Until July, Friday the 13th.
   "Kill that man." Went over the speakers.
   "Roger." 07815 replied. But he felt his heart rate increase, which never happened. His hand started to tremble as he reached for the drug. What is this? He thought. What's happening? Is this bad? What am I doing? Is killing okay? It's like my head... no... my... my what? Is touching something delicate. An grenade, maybe? He tried to move, but he was frozen stiff.
   "07815, I will not repeat my order." The intercom crackled again.
   "Yes sir." The grenade's safety pin was ripped out. He grabbed the needle and stabbed the man's vein. The grenade exploded. Keep a straight face. Remember what they told you. You falter, you're gone.  "Shut up." He mumbled to himself, so quietly not even he heard the sounds.
                                                                      * 11 pm *
   "ARGH!" He yelled into his thin pillow, punching his stomach and head. "SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!"
   Everyone was asleep, but him. He couldn't. What is happening to me? It's like tanks are firing bombs in my head, but the bombs are the sound and faces of people I killed and hurt. Words came to leave scars on his mind. Is this supposed to be happening? It doesn't seem to happen to anyone else. It's like... like... what is it? Dead. But inside. They live, but they aren't aware of what they're doing... I feel bad... my stomach hurts... am I sick...? "SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!" He continued punching himself and hitting his head on the metal edge of the bed, cutting and bruising the surface.
                                                                       * 3 am *
   He broke down and cried. Why is water coming out of my eyes? This is relieving, but weird. This... I feel bad for what I did. I don't want to feel this. It's like approaching a wild dog. One wrong move, it can kill you. Stop... should I tell them? But I don't want to be gone. "Don't exterminate me." He whispered between sobs, and fell into a nervous sleep.