Chereads / XERO / Chapter 7 - ReVi-23

Chapter 7 - ReVi-23

Bright โ€“ the lights snapped on, prying my blood sealed eyes open. I squinted in pain. My body felt like it had been chewed up by Cerberus, spat back out and squashed through a meat grinder before being served up cold. Suspended between the worlds of the living and the dead, my head floated on my shoulders; I was used to the feeling. A heavy heart thudded in my chest, painfully drawing life through my feeble limbs. Swallowing down the Sahara desert in my throat, I slowly became aware of my ligaments, feeling for the connections. Like emerging through the surface of an ocean, I returned to the land of the living.

"Welcome back, Xero. Your results are stable. You are free to go." Doctor Shaw said. His voice bounced off the walls of the Clearing, the titanium door now in my line of sight. ๐’ฏ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“Ž ๐“‚๐“Š๐“ˆ๐“‰ ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‹๐‘’ ๐“Œ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐‘’๐“๐‘’๐’น ๐“‚๐‘’ ๐’ท๐’ถ๐’ธ๐“€ ๐“Œ๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“๐‘’ ๐ผ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“‰.

Gesturing towards Genevieve, she quickly moved over to unstrap me from the seat, freeing me of the leather shackles. Her face, streaked with dry tears, was red and blotchy as she took in my bloody appearance. The testing was always hard for her but she had to watch. It was her job. ๐’œ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“ˆ๐‘œ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“Ž ๐“‰๐‘œ๐“‡๐“‰๐“Š๐“‡๐‘’๐’น ๐“Š๐“ˆ ๐’ท๐‘œ๐“‰๐’ฝ.

Handing me a clean lab dress, she spoke with her eyes. I understood, smiling weakly at her concerned gaze but shaking it off with a shrug. Taking the garment from her, I turned around as she refastened my usual collar.

"Where's that fire now?" Shaw whispered, coming so close to my face that his breath fanned my hair.

His smug tone made me sick; I hissed venomously as he steeled his gaze. Without gracing him with a response, I slid off the chair and scanned my wrist at the door. ๐ผ ๐’ฟ๐“Š๐“ˆ๐“‰ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐“‰ ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“‰. ๐ฟ๐‘’๐“‰ ๐“‚๐‘’ ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“‰. The minute I could fit through the crack, I found myself propelling through it, speeding past both Andreas and Ezra - a beeline to the showers. Their voices calling me in unison fell on deaf ears as I hurtled towards my destination.

The blood in my head was roaring, my heart thumping. A familiar lump crept up my throat. ๐ผ'๐“‚ ๐‘”๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐“ƒ๐’ถ ๐’ธ๐“‡๐“Ž. Quickly, I swallowed the thought. I would never be that girl again. I would not let this break me. ๐ผ ๐’ถ๐“‚ ๐“ˆ๐“‰๐“‡๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐‘”๐‘’๐“‡ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“ƒ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“ˆ. So I raced naked down the halls of the Institute, clutching my clean dress in my hands, hoping to be nothing more than a blur or a smudge in the eye.

The shower was cold, but the crispness it brought with it sharpened my senses and resolve. A chorus in cannon, screeching truth.

๐ผ๐“‰'๐“ˆ ๐‘”๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐“ƒ๐’ถ ๐“‰๐’ถ๐“€๐‘’ ๐“‚๐‘œ๐“‡๐‘’ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“ƒ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“ˆ ๐’ป๐‘œ๐“‡ ๐“‚๐‘’ ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐’ท๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“€.

As I scrubbed the black blood out of my pores, I sniffled. It had been years now - 15 years - of which this was a daily occurrence, yet I felt so alienated. It still shocked me to the core, plaguing me with horrors at night and during the day. Every time I went into that room they joined me in reality.

My nature as a Prototype, specifically an RV-23, meant that I was like a fury demon. My power was bestowed on me through rage, and the anger my fear became under pressure was like diamond. The sharpest of razor blades on skin. It had no boundaries, no limits and was the only thing that truly terrified me. My worst fear was my worst self, consumed by the monster they try to make me become, completely out of touch with the human flesh I inhabited. Without the human, I could be beastly. ๐ผ ๐’ธ๐’ถ๐“ƒ'๐“‰ ๐“๐‘’๐“‰ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‚ ๐“‰๐’ถ๐“€๐‘’ ๐’พ๐“‰ ๐’ถ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“Ž ๐’ป๐“‡๐‘œ๐“‚ ๐“‚๐‘’, ๐’ท๐‘’๐’ธ๐’ถ๐“Š๐“ˆ๐‘’ ๐’พ๐’ป ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“Ž ๐’น๐’พ๐’น, ๐ผ'๐’น ๐’ท๐‘’ ๐“ƒ๐‘œ ๐’ท๐‘’๐“‰๐“‰๐‘’๐“‡ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“ƒ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“‡๐‘’๐“ˆ๐“‰ ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‚.

A knock.

"Xero?" ๐’œ๐“ƒ๐’น๐“Ž.

"X, please let me in." The pain in his voice magnified the one in my heart. It twisted and turned like a dagger in my chest as I struggled to ignore his pleading baritones.

๐“‘๐“ช๐“ซ๐”‚?

A single traitorous tear ran down my face, burning its trail like acid. I immediately wiped it away.

"I'm fine." I called back hoarsely, my throat throbbing with a lump of sadness. He sighed and rested his head against the door of the showers; I could feel him behind it. ๐“ง๐“ฎ๐“ป๐“ธ, ๐“น๐“ต๐“ฎ๐“ช๐“ผ๐“ฎ. He was worried. He was hurt. He was desperate. We both were.

My chocolate skin was raw and redder than roses; I'd pricked myself on the thorns as I bled black. The water only made it burn more. Like the sting of a bee, my skin fizzed on the surface as it stitched itself back together. The surface was the only place this was possible. Deeper within the human husk I wore, lies the shattered visage of the eight year old girl I left behind and as I looked in the mirror at my reflection, I saw the cracks in her smile.

They have a way of reducing even the strongest of rock to sand here - ๐’ฝ๐‘œ๐“‚๐‘’ ๐“ˆ๐“Œ๐‘’๐‘’๐“‰ ๐’ฝ๐‘œ๐“‚๐‘’.

Blue met blue. Purple met purple. Silver met silver. They moulded together in a delicate blend, a kaleidoscope of hues, as I fought back the tears threatening to escape my faรงade. I watched a little more light fade from my intricately woven eyes. Just another day at the Institute. I looked away.

Building myself up from the ground once again, I stacked brick on brick, dressing myself in my clean gown and opening the door. I knew I looked fine but inside I was dying. My humanity was fraying at the edges like a well worn pair of socks, holes forming at the toes. Still, I stood strong and avoided Ezra's prying questions. Andy's hurt and worried face caused a hurricane of emotions inside me but I refused to relent. I kept them in a little black box in the back of my mind. Andy knew why. He would understand.

Silence dominated the space between us as they walked me over to the underground basement: the Arena. This was where I trained, after finding while exploring when I was five years old. They let me do that back then.

Shaped like a dome, I had the space to be myself without the prying eyes of the scientists calculating my every move. The breath down my neck eased here. In the Arena, I had every piece of equipment I could possibly need and I knew how to use them all, even the ancient ones like pistols and switch blades. ๐’ฒ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‰๐‘’๐“‹๐‘’๐“‡ ๐ผ ๐’ธ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“๐’น ๐‘”๐‘’๐“‰ ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น๐“ˆ ๐‘œ๐“ƒ.

Learning from my mistakes, I taught myself in here after I turned 12. Before that, they got military robots to show me the basics. They guided me until I surpassed their training abilities; I was on my own. Countless mistakes, like lines on my bedroom wall, were made here with not a scratch to prove their existence. The older I got, the more time I spent here until the days began to blur together in a foggy haze of monotony. It became my escape. The one place where I wasn't judged, sized up or violated and no one told me what to do.

Sitting on the little red bench outside the ring, I wrapped my knuckles in a white bandage to keep them from splitting. Not that it mattered, I'd heal anyway. Flexing my fingers a little, I walked over to my punching bag and threw a few test punches. ๐ต๐’พ๐“‰ ๐“ˆ๐“‰๐’พ๐’ป๐’ป, ๐’ท๐“Š๐“‰ ๐’พ๐“‰ ๐“Œ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“๐’น ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‹๐‘’ ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐’น๐‘œ. My shoulders ached and my palms were raw from my nails tearing the skin, but I pressed on. Stabilizing the bag, I rested my head against it as I gritted my teeth. I needed to get rid of my anger.

Like a caged Tasmanian devil with snapping jaws and frothing saliva, my anger hungered for fresh blood. Craving a taste of a kill on my tongue, slippery flesh in the palm of my hands, I breathed through the pain. I felt like I needed to run or fight or something, ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜บ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ, otherwise I was going to scream. Growling and grunting, it slammed itself against the frames. My blood hummed with a strength that I had fought for years to control as my fists itched to attack the punching bag swinging in front of me.

Power like mine was so difficult to contain: a hunger that constantly needed to be satiated, a beast that needed to be fed. I needed an outlet. So I started punching. Harder and harder. Faster and faster. I hardly even noticed my knuckles begin to bleed as the devil took and took and took. Further I wandered from reality as I begged beyond the stars for a remedy to the madness. I just wanted to drown it out.

๐ผ ๐’ฟ๐“Š๐“ˆ๐“‰ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐“‰ ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐’ท๐‘’ ๐’ป๐“‡๐‘’๐‘’.

Every day was the same in the Institute. You eat, you sleep, you train, you repeat. They drilled their wants and needs into my head until those were the only voices I heard when I fell asleep. Demands and expectations tattooed in black on my skin, tough like cement, but inside, porcelain. I shattered like glass from within. A girl programmed on the outside to be a ruthless killer was nothing more than a piece of clay. They did say they wanted a weapon: a ๐‘uthless, ๐„xplosive ๐•olatile and ๐ˆnferno.

So that's what they made.