The Silver Soldier

XVII

There are an infinite number of ways to torture a living thing, that much I know. But there's also a wide variety of organisms categorized under "living things." There are human beings, animals, plants... and then there are monsters, like me. 

Over the past few years, I have learned that there is a fine line between human an animal. I have been asked to kill both, to torture both. And it didn't take long for me to realize that the killing part is the easiest of the two. Even torturing a living, breathing, human being doesn't bother me, at least not anymore. But when it comes to animals - dogs, cats, horses - that is where I draw the line. 

Only a psychopath can torture an animal for fun. 

And I am no psychopath. 

But monsters on the other hand, monsters are both human and animal, in fact they are the worst of both creatures. And monsters, despite being half animal as well, are easier to torture than humans. You see, they have the ability to heal, to withstand the pain. And that is something I hate about them, about myself as well. There are times where I wish I wouldn't heal, where my body would let me die.

I can't die, the other half of me won't allow it. 

Last time Void had been in my head, telling me what to do, who to kill. This time, there is no separation between us. I can't hear his commands, I can't feel his effect on me. Everything I do, every person I kill, torture, hurt, that is all me. I have no excuse. I am not like I used to be, I can be funny, sarcastic, kind, but I can also turn it all off. I can make it so I don't feel anything at all.

I liked who I was. 

And I blame only one person for creating the monster I am now.

Scott Fucking McCall.

I don't know what made me snap. It's been an hour since I got home from Juliette's house, it is still raining, I'm still in my soaking wet suit. I didn't bother taking it off, I sat at the table and played cards with Erik for half an hour, I lost each game. 

my mind wasn't there, I was thinking about something else, someone else. I was thinking about how much I want to be a normal kid again, no special abilities, no training, just me. Erik went to bed after maybe 10 games, but I couldn't. I couldn't sleep when I kept seeing Scott's face when I closed my eyes. It keeps replaying in my mind, our fight outside of the animal clinic. 

He didn't believe me, if he had stopped to listen to me, I wouldn't have been standing out there in the rain, the Dread Doctors might not have gotten me. If they didn't get me, I wouldn't have been sent to Hydra, I wouldn't have been trained, and I wouldn't be here. 

If Scott had believed me that night, I wouldn't be the most lethal Hydra operative alive right now. And I sure as Hell wouldn't have taken his roommate captive either. 

But he didn't believe me. 

So here we are. 

"Let's start with your name." I pull up a chair, sitting opposite to the boy. 

"Who are you?" He stares at me, trying to figure out who I am underneath the cloth. It is covering the bottom half of my face, only showing my eyes.

I shake my head. "I asked you first."

"Why am I here?" He asks, trying to act cool but failing miserably. 

I sigh. "Alright Mr. Tough Guy. We can do this the easy way, or we can do it the not so easy way. It's your choice." I say, my hands itching to spill his blood. He makes a face, like he's snarling. It would make sense, he is a werewolf after all. I knew it the first time I saw him, his and Scott's dorm smelled like wet dog. It wasn't the most pleasant thing in the world. I begin to stand, walking over, and then to my satisfaction, he spits at my feet.

"Fuck you."

"Wrong answer." I pull a switchblade from my pocket, crouching in front of him. "I'll give you a chance to redeem yourself, give me an answer and maybe I'll consider only cutting off two of your fingers." I run the knife along his forearm, not yet breaking skin. He tries to flinch away. "Let's try this again, hm?"

"Alec." His eyes are on the knife. "My name is Alec."

"That's a start." I pull the knife away from his arm. "Scott McCall, is he your alpha?"

Alec nods, but doesn't speak. 

"Did he bite you?" I ask. 

He shakes his head. 

"Speak, goddamnit. Use your fucking mouth." I raise the blade to his lips, gently touching the cold steel to his skin. He closes his eyes, squeezing them shut. "Open them." I stand, already getting annoyed. He listens. "Now, you're going to tell me what I want to know, understand?"

"And if I don't."

I raise my eyebrows... the nerve this kid has. "You'll be wishing I only cut two fingers off."

"I'll heal." 

I can't help but chuckle. "I'm counting on it. It'll make you last longer." I study his face, I can see how scared he is behind his neutral mask. He is staring at me, daring me to try something. My gaze lands on the sporadic freckles spread across his face, a few on his upper cheek, on his forehead, his chin, his nose. 

I think it's time to play connect the dots. 

I raise the knife, touching the sharp edge to the freckle on his forehead. He cries out in pain as I trace a straight line from it down to the one on his nose, and then again from the one on his nose to the few on his cheek. Bright red blood seeps from the wounds, dripping down his face. By the time I'm done with the rest of the freckles, the first line has healed, leaving only a red mark where the cut had been. 

"Tell me Alec, who is in your pack?"

"No." He seethes through his teeth. 

Without warning, I slam the blade of the knife down on his pinky finger, cutting it clean off. He yells out, tilting his head back, his chest rising and falling heavily. "What about Liam?" I ask, listening to his heartbeat. It jumps slightly at my guess. "Lydia?" Another jump. "Derek." His heartbeat is still. Interesting. "What happened to Derek?"

"He moved." Alec breathes, repeating himself. "He moved."

"That's unfortunate, I wanted to talk with him." I wipe the blood off the knife, onto my suit pants. "Malia?" Alec's pulse spikes once more. That's a surprise, I thought she would have ditched the pack as soon as she could. Unless something is holding her back... somone. "Anyone else I'm missing?"

"No." 

A lie. 

I straighten, bringing the knife to his fingers. "Who?"

"No one." He opens his eyes, giving me a pained death stare. 

"You just don't learn, do you?" I dig the blade under the nail of his thumb, pulling upwards. "Who else?"

A single tear falls down his cheek, mixing with the blood. "My cousin." His face contorts. "My cousin joined last year."

"Who is it? Their name."

He whimpers. "I can't. I can't."

"Yes you can. And you will." I jam the blade under another one of his nails, the sound of his pain echoes off the walls of the basement. "Now speak before I decide to take that privilege away from you." 

He hesitates, trembling. "Juliette. Her name is Juliette."