Half-Bloods R • 1: Fallen World

C • 5 : Bleed the Wound, Clot the Blood

Another day of torture and experimentation had passed, and Christopher was still far from escaping. His mechanical limbs had been removed, upgraded, and then replaced. He felt sick, and he could see that Anna was doing much worse, she was pale and barely breathing.

Another masked agent in pale white armor came to his cell and opened the door, signaling Christopher to move but he stayed where he sat.

"Get the girl some help, she's sick, I won't move until you help her," Christopher said with unnerving confidence. Since when did he sound like that?

The agent looked at Anna's cell for a moment and then walked into Christopher's cell. He squatted in front of Christopher and lifted his mask.

The man seemed to be in his mid-forties, maybe his early fifties. He had light bags under his eyes and messy brown hair. Looking at him, he seemed disturbingly familiar.

Who is he? Christopher thought.

"You care about the kid?" The agent looked back at Anna.

Christopher warily said, "Just don't like to see others in pain."

The agent pushed Christopher's head back against the wall, gently at first but eventually putting in some weight.

The agent finally looked back at Christopher with a forlorn light in his eyes and put his mask back on as he stood.

"Don't lie to me," he let go of Christopher's head and pulled him up by his arm, "I'll see what I can do."

He led Christopher through the same halls as he had been led through for the past seven days. As they walked through the pale white-tile walls, they passed a few small groups of soldiers and a large group of soldiers led by an elite.

He didn't know why, but Christopher felt a need to talk to the agent, and when he did, he almost regretted opening his mouth.

"So what number are you?" He asked.

The agent was silent for a moment, but quietly said, "Nine."

That low? They must not think I'm a threat.

"Don't get any ideas," Agent Nine warned, "I'm not the ninth agent because I'm weaker than the others."

The two made their way into the elevator, passing a small group of soldiers along the way, and began their descent to the seventh floor.

"Then why are you the ninth agent?" Christopher asked, leaning against the wall.

"Don't get too comfortable," He expected the agent to tear him away from the wall, but in the end, he didn't move, "Who are you? You're not a fully complete chimera, but you're pretty damn close."

He hadn't expected the question, but the agent was right. Christopher had made the bond with his devil but failed to have his body fused, ever since then, the devil remained silent. She was half there and half gone in a sense. Her powers were held within him but they remained dormant and he couldn't unlock them.

As for who he was, why would an agent want to know? After all, the Order had ruined his life repeatedly. First, they killed his mother and took his father away. Then they took his sister away to who knows where. When he was escaping the facility, they forced him to leave Anna and her brother Jake behind.

Why should he tell this went who he was?

A wave of anger welled up in him, he started at the agent, hoping that his glare would force the agent to catch fire, or collapse, or something, but they ultimately remained in silence.

"Not fun being asked questions, huh?" The agent said as the elevator door opened, "Too personal, maybe? Or are you just not a people person? Either way, I don't care, not like either of us'd be able to escape."