Series of Hate

3. identity

Nervously I made my way into a white pristine operating room, my hands tied behind my back, restricting my movements. Raising my head I'm met with two sets of glaring eyes.

They ushered me to sit down on the operating table, still staring at me like I was their next meal. Both dressed in surgical gowns with latex gloves, patiently waiting for me to set myself upon the table.

I lay down on the table directly underneath a singular dangling light bulb which grabbed my attention. Before I could advert my mind to what was going around me I felt the cold metal clasps wrapping around my bare ankles and wrists preventing me from moving.

My breathing became heavy and uneven as the man in the surgical gown slowly made his way towards me, once more tapping a needle filled with red liquid teasingly, as though to taunt me. My pleading eyes darted between the needle and the man, my heart seeming to be bashing against my rib cage.

I started thrashing my body up and down against the restraints in a desperate attempt as my sleeve was pulled up leaving my arm exposed. A wave of anxiety fell upon me. But their expressions never changed, a cold front plastered on their features.

The needle pierced my skin with ease as I felt warm liquid slowly entering my system. It started off as a warm feeling flowing over my body but soon began to heat up as my veins felt like they were burning. The burning sensation quickly building and growing as my body felt like it was being burnt alive. Thorns seemed to be forming inside of my veins which ran throughout me.

I screamed and pleaded for it to stop but nothing. Once again I was met with two sets of glaring eyes as they looked over me desperately trying to break free from the clasps. The pain was excruciating, every sense engulfed in agony."Please stop this. PLEASE" my voice hoarse and throat gasping for air.

"JUST KILL ME ALREADY " my eyes shot open as I sprung up into a sitting position. My forehead damp with beads of sweat trailing down my face, my breathing quick and uneven but slowly calming.

My eyes darted around an unfamiliar room until they settled on the male silently sitting in the corner. He stayed silent staring back at me obviously taking in the scene which had just played out in front of him.

I was in a small box room with white walls, the furniture included my bed covered in white sheets, a small side locker and the steel chair in the corner occupied by the same man who led that group of soldiers the day I woke up.

His dark brown eyes piercing, his features sharp and his muddy hair flowing. "Morning Sayla." a smirk appeared upon his face as he threw me a brown folder from across the room. I tried and failed to suppress the shiver his gaze alone caused.

The folder landed on the end of the bed, lightly embedding on the sheets. Jitterily I reached over towards the folder. I could feel the man in the corners eyes still piercing into the side of my head as I picked it up. Opening the folder to see a singular piece of paper.

Missing person: Sayla O' Connor
Age:16
DOB: 14/08/2000
Gender: female
Height:5'8
Last seen: ....

I didn't bother reading the rest I knew what this was. I looked up from the paper to see the male in the corner still staring at me. His expression blank, showing no indication as to what was happening.

"What's this?" I croaked out.

Obviously I knew what it was but I couldn't be too sure.

"Exactly what it says it is. Your parents filed it the day you went missing, which was four years ago today." A slight furrow formed between his brows at my words but his voice remained monotone as if he was reciting something he had learned in school.

I paused for a moment slowly taking in the information. I couldn't remember anything, not even my own parents. This realization hit me hard. The girl in this file, the girl who I once was, was gone. I was now a 20 year old woman who couldn't remember even a fragment about her past.

"Am I expected to do something now?" He just stared back at me. "Are you going to answer any of my questions?" Silence again. "Can you at least tell me your name? Or is that top secret as well?" My tone now had a hint of sarcasm.

"Conan." He replied sharply, staring intently at me.

"Well Conan, would you like to tell me where I am or what I am doing here?"

He paused for a moment as if thinking about what he should say next. This bitch really wasn't one to talk.

"You were recovered from an experimental facility to the west of the city. You have been under sedation for the last 48 hours and will be staying under 24/7 watch until your questioning and evaluation is completed ." He had his same monotone voice and expressionless face. He leaned forward on the chair, both elbows propped on his thighs with his hands clasped as one.

Evaluation? Questioning? I didn't even know my name until a few seconds ago. How would I be able to answer anything?

"That's all I can tell you for now. You have a fresh set of clothes in your side locker and will begin training in an hour."

"Training?" I asked my voice quite and my throat still dry.

Conan stood up from his chair in the corner and instantly became ten times more intimidating, he started to make his way out of the room, dismissing my question. "I wouldn't wear that rag either." He scoffed.

He was easily 6'2 and his shirt allowed me to see his defined muscles as he swiftly walked out, adverting his eyes from my gaze.

I quickly forced my eyes to look back down at my tattered gown.Examining the grime on the gown I heard the sound of a lock as he shut the door, the metal screech echoing around the room, leaving me alone once more.

AN: just wanted to clear things the story will be in Sayla's POV unless it says different at the top of the chapter.

Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed. X