Deception || PJM

•Echo's of The Pit 1/2•

A/N

As I'm writing this I realise this chapter is supppper long so I'm going to divide it in to 2 parts. It's quite a heavy one so I hope you like it💜

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You slammed your door behind you, it's noise ricochetted off the walls, overwhelming your senses. Immediately you locked it behind you, all 4 locks, and turned your back to the door in an attempt to catch your breath. You slid your back down its cold white surface, flakes of white paint breaking off its panels and into your wet hair. It was all too much. In an attempt to control the wave of panic that you could feel brewing inside of you, you held your head in your hands and took slow, shaky breaths.

That was the closest they'd ever got to you, if it was them. It didn't make any sense to you. The man was right there, inches away from you and yet he wasn't. It wasn't humanly possible. The encounter made you doubt if the man was sent by The Academy at all . You knew all the tricks in their book and this wasn't one of them.

For some reason unknown to you, you seemed to be one of The Academy's favourite prodigies. From priority training to private tutorials, you had it all. And some invisibility or disappearing act would be a tool in your kit if they had it. Your theory, however accurate that was, was that they were making you into being their most lethal weapon - and they succeeded, you were deadly. It was all you knew, but you wanted to un- know it. You never got to be a normal child, you didn't even know what normal was, you just knew it wasn't you.

The one thing you couldn't figure out was how to shake them off. You had to loose them because if you didn't both parties would suffer deadly consequences. That was the last thing you wanted. The thought of having to hurt Sejin was unbearable and you'd rather fade in to the shadows and never see a human soul again than harm him. But if you had to, you knew you could.

I'll just have to keep running and figure it out at the next base.

Now that your breath was back, you double checked all your windows, making sure they were locked and armed. For all you knew the man could have run home after you and you would be none the wiser. But you did know that the rain and the running made you smell like a wet dog and you wanted to smell human again.

Maybe it's one step closer to feeling like one.

Before stepping in to the shower, you decided to pack up what little you had littered around the apartment in to cardboard boxes, unbelievably it only amounted to two boxes. Traveling light was your forté, not that you had a choice. Unlike normal people, you didn't feel sad about moving out, more a pang of disappointment. You really wanted this one to work, and you couldn't figure out what you had done wrong. Sighing, you left the cardboard boxes by the front door and walked in to your bathroom.

On the wall opposite the bathroom door once hung a mirror above the sink, but in its place now was a collage of newspapers. You covered it the day you moved in, not wanting to catch a glimpse of yourself every time you walked past. For you, what you saw staring back at you was a lie; the hair, makeup, even your name half the time. Your reflection was a reminder of what you really were, and what you wished you were. It wasn't that you weren't happy with what you looked like. The lifestyle meant your physique was better than average and you had inherited an acceptable level of beauty from whoever your parents were. It was what your body had done and the thoughts that lied behind your eyes was what you couldn't stand to see.

In a way you knew you were being hard on yourself. You were a child when you were taken and there was nothing you could realistically have done to change the outcome of your being. Even your good decisions had bad consequences. Like with your time in the pit.