Chapter 10
Bang. Bang. Bang. The gun fires through the paper target hanging down the range, each bullet hitting exactly where I want it: the head, the heart, the ribs.
The paper ripples with each hit. The metal barrel heats up as the bullet leaves the chamber.
You don’t deserve the life you have. Cayden’s words ring out in my mind over and over like a curse.
Was that an insult? Did he see me as weak?
I am not weak. I could end his life in seconds if I wanted to.
I have taken down men twice his size, yet here he was, calling me weak.
He has some nerve to think I am weak. I am not weak.
After spiralling all night, I needed to clear my head, so I came to the one place I can always do just that: the training sector.
“I think the target died twenty bullets ago.” Bella smirks, standing beside me as she racks back her gun, loading the chamber before firing the bullets.
“I needed to clear my head,” I admit quietly. The shooting range is the one room where there is no audio on the cameras.
It’s too loud for the guards to listen to over the sound of the guns, so they removed the audio.
“Rough target?”
“You have no idea.” I take out the magazine from the pistol before racking back the slide and releasing the final bullet in the chamber.
Throwing the empty gun back on the table and grabbing something bigger, I repeat the process, reloading the magazine and pulling back the bolt before raising the barrel and firing.
“Lauren told Kylie. Why do you always get the fun ones?” Bella laughs softly before emptying the chamber of her gun.
“He’s in my head, which is impossible to do.”
“Clearly not, if he’s managed to do it. Come on, let’s go get lunch before training.” Bella doesn’t wait for a response as she takes my gun and clears it before dragging me out to the main area of the training sector.
It’s a pity we’re in The Academy; sometimes I think Bella and I could’ve been good friends outside of this. But it’s pointless to dwell on a life we will never live. Both our walls go back up as we walk to the dining sector.
“PX-3,” a guard calls from in front of us, his bulky tactical gear doing nothing to protect him from the seventy-six trained killers surrounding him. I straighten my back instantly.
“Yes?” The guard’s hand trembles slightly as he reaches for his holster. Fuck, they know.
“Come with me.”
Bella stops walking, but doesn’t look at me. I feel her worry even if she doesn’t show it; being called by a guard is never good. Being called by a guard while he reaches for a gun? It’s a warning. I am about to be punished.
Without argument, the guard who looks like he’s about to piss himself and I walk towards the office of Major and Madam. I catch myself finding the weak points in his bulletproof vest to pierce my knife through.
Bulletproof vests are great in theory, but don’t do much up close.
Their job is to protect the vital organs, yet the head and neck are left unprotected.
Leaving three areas open to my interest: his neck, ribs, and groin.
Although a stab to the groin won’t necessarily kill, it will absolutely hurt and disable for a period of time.
The mental image has my lips curve into an unwilling smile before remembering exactly where we are going.
The walk to the office is quiet other than the rustling of the guard’s tactical uniform. Madam and the Overseer stand behind the desk, watching me.
I knew this would happen.
Wolvrin managed to delay the mission report until this morning on the basis that he was worried about Lauren and me being pushed to exhaustion, and for some reason, they accepted it.
“Something funny, PX-3?”
A shiver runs down my spine. Her voice is cold yet almost excited to find a reason to put me in the chair.
“Just mentally picturing my next kill, Madam,” I answer honestly. They can’t punish me for being who they trained me to be. And I love what I do.
“Mission report for last night,” Overseer interrupts, and I don’t miss the glare from Madam.
“PX-28 and I entered the building at 20:03. The target was not immediately in sight, so PX-28 and I split through the room to cover more ground and find him. When I found him, he was outside smoking a cigarette and was on a device; I did not see what he was doing.”
Overseer nods. “Did you engage the target?”
There’s a pause before I answer. I know I disobeyed orders, but Lauren could be killed if I tell them exactly how much I engaged with the target.
“Yes, sir, I spoke to him.”
“And what did you talk about?” The Overseer's voice has gone deep like it does when he’s angry. I would beg to stay out of the chair, but after yesterday, I know I need it. I disobeyed orders. Punishment brings order, Madam always says, and I believe her.
“Nothing of value, sir. He insinuated I was weak, and I argued with him. That was all.”
Overseer nods before turning to the two guards standing by the door. I didn’t even notice. They walk up behind me, taking my arms and leading me to the elevator. I don’t fight as they lead me up to the ground floor and strap me down to the chair.
It’s a large rusty metal chair sitting in the middle of the abandoned warehouse on top of The Academy. The roof above is almost non-existent and filled with holes, while the walls around also offer no protection from the weather or anything outside.
Rain is pelting down on the chair as my wrists are placed to the manacles stuck to the armrests, my ankles following suit to the legs of the chair.
I’m completely helpless to the punishment, and for the first time, I invite it.
I crave it. Something is wrong with me, and I know punishment is what I need.
“PX-3, you are charged with failure to obey and wilful negligence. How do you plead?” one of the guards asks, the sound muffled beneath his mask.
“Guilty,” I respond, and instantly the guard pierces a blade through my hand.
Holding back the cry that’s so desperate for release, I bite my lip. My eyes well with tears before I blink them away. Do not break. Do not break. Do not break.
“Make sure she learns her lesson.” I hear the Overseer call as another guard cuts into my good arm, the top of the skin now pooling with blood.
The next cut is down my shirt, exposing more skin as they take turns slicing my skin, blood staining my skin and shirt. The pain is so unbearable, a scream gets trapped in my throat. I’m crying, I’m sure of it, but the rain disguises my tears. Thank the gods for that small mercy.
I managed to last five more cuts before passing out from the pain.
?
Water drops down from the ceiling to my bleeding forehead, my vision blurred by the watered-down blood in my eyes. Drip, drip, drip. My breath is short and laboured as I fight the pain and blood loss to stay alive.
The guards left an hour ago, leaving me to my misery. The rain stopped about an hour ago, and the night sky now fills the broken roof. I find peace in the stars that glitter above me. It’s the only time I’m able to see them other than on missions. They’re beautiful.
I never understood why we aren’t allowed out of The Academy. They say it’s to protect us, but can’t we protect ourselves, considering everything they have trained us to handle?
“PX-3,” a muffled voice calls. I force myself to look at them, barely able to see a thing through the blood in my eyes. I wish I could see it, I’m sure it looks cool. Maybe I’ll try this with my next target, killing them slowly instead of efficiently.
“Hmmm?”
“Have you learned your lesson?”
I hope so. I really hope so. Battling the blood loss and the pain running through my cut-up body, I can’t manage the words to say yes.
So far, I’ve counted thirty-two gashes along my body in every place, each cut burning and stinging.
Some small pricks, then some bigger ones that will need stitches. I hate stitches.
“Mhmmm,” I groan, barely able to keep my head upright anymore. I don’t even know if my eyes are open anymore. It feels like they might be, but it’s so dark and I can’t see anything.
When the heavy footsteps approach, I know the Commander is here to interrogate me. The Overseer doesn’t work when the sky goes dark, which leaves the Commander in charge of my punishment. Only it’s not Wolvrin’s voice I hear when they do speak.
“PX-3. You pleaded guilty to your charges, you knew what you were doing was wrong.”
Someone get this guy a medal.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t let you bleed out.”
God, I hate this part. “Because you need me,” I manage to force out, although the words are slightly slurred. I estimate I have about four more minutes left before passing out from the blood loss entirely, so this better hurry up.
“You are replaceable,” the Overseer says, and I snort involuntarily, finding the last of my energy to respond.
“There’s no one more useful to you than me; it would take you years to train someone to be even remotely like me. But they will never be me.”
My answer must satisfy him since two guards rush to my side and undo the manacles binding me to the seat. When they try to get me to stand, I collapse, only held up at the last second as they hold their grip on my arms.
“Welcome back, PX-3. Get her to the doctor.”
The last thing I remember before passing out again is the cranking of the elevator going down. The comforting darkness takes its hold as my body finally gives out to the torture.
?
The incessant beeping from a monitor behind me rouses me from sleep. I blink my eyes open to the warm lights of the healing sector. Every inch of my body aches, the reminder of what happened while in the chair.
My vision is still blurred, and I can’t tell if it’s permanent damage or just exhaustion.
“Good morning, PX-3. Don’t try to sit up; the stitches on your stomach might tear. Please just rest.” There’s a warm voice to the side of me. I try to turn to look, but can barely make out a face. Only the slicked-back white hair and thick, black-frame glasses that sit on their nose.
I let sleep take me, feeling a burning sensation in the veins of my arm.
?
The healing sector is quiet today. I’m the only person in a bed, which means the doctor has been sitting at his desk all day. It’s been two weeks since I arrived, the maximum amount of time you’re allowed in the healing sector, no matter the injury.
Groaning, I force myself to sit up, despite most of my cuts being closed and beginning to scab over finally. The cuts to my stomach were particularly deep, and the doctor says they will need an additional week before being completely closed without risk of tearing.
I stare at the tray placed at the foot of the bed, my stomach growling in excitement. I’ve barely managed to keep anything down with the medication they’ve been giving me. While the strong painkillers do wonders for the pain, they seem to make me incredibly ill.
Starting with the porridge, I force myself to eat slowly despite my stomach wanting to consume the bowl completely.
What would usually take me three minutes to eat, I force myself to take ten minutes, stopping every time I feel nauseous again.
Only when the tray is empty do I stand, changing into my training uniform and tucking the top into my pants before lacing up my boots.
“PX-3.” The doctor clears his throat, walking over. “I will be giving you a pill to take every day. You must take the dose until you run out of the pills. It is to prevent any infection.”
I nod, taking the container and placing it in the pocket of my pants while I place my gun and knife back into their holders on both sides of my pants. “Anything else, sir?”
“Try to avoid any direct hits to your stomach for the next week. Otherwise, you are free to go.” The doctor tries his best at an empathetic smile. Returning the gesture with a nod, I walk out of the healing sector, going straight for the bunk rooms.
I manage to make it up the steps before Bella, Lauren, and Kylie ambush me, forcing me into the bunk room and locking the door. “What the hell happened to you?” Bella asks before Kylie says, “You look like shit.”
I almost want to smile; it’s so good to see them all alive.
“I was just in the chair, you know the deal.”
Kylie rolls her eyes, her black hair shaking as she throws her hands up. “Just in the chair. She’s impossible.” I look to Lauren, who’s looking back at me with so much worry in her eyes.
“I’m fine, my stomach will heal in a week and then—” I’m cut off by Bella lifting my shirt and inspecting the wound herself.
“Oh fuck, that was deep.”
“Wow, really? Didn’t notice that. Thank you, Doctor, I’m cured.”
All four of us burst into quiet laughter, careful not to be too loud and get caught breaking rules.
“It’s good to see you, Darlia. No more being the hero, yeah?” Bella smirks, and I nod, turning to Lauren who still hasn’t said a word.
“A thank you for saving your life, would be nice.”
“Thank you,” she whispers so softly it’s barely audible.
What the fuck happened while I was recovering? Did something happen to Lauren?
“Everything okay?” I ask Bella, knowing she’s the least likely to bullshit me, and she shrugs.
“I didn’t see anything.”