Project 43

Why does he look like that?

It had to get out.

Subject 43 didn't know where it was but it had to get out and fast.

Like a voice calling out from nothingness, something was screaming in the soldier's head for it to leave, to kill everyone who tried to stop it and get out of there.

The soldier shut its eyes tight and tried to shake the voice away but it felt too strong. It was somehow familiar but the soldier had never felt it before, like a piece from a different world or a very strong deja vu. Subject 43 remembered everything. It remembered every day it had spent in its storage space, every mission it had been on, and every target it had hit. Still, the solider could have sworn it had been in that town before, but couldn't remember. 

Subject 43 was in its cell, sitting against the back wall like every day before. This time however its head was filled with questions. Why didn't it remember? Why did it want to leave?

The door creaked open showing Master, the man who had been giving the soldier commands for years. By then he was an old man with gray hair and a long beard, something he had turned to like every Master before him. For the first time, the soldier wondered why it hadn't aged like his masters had.

Master was thrown against the wall, hitting his head as he landed knocking him out cold. Subject 43 took off in a run toward the elevator. It knew the way out, by then its footsteps had carved a path into the floor. The soldier followed its path forward and didn't stop as the sirens went off all around it. The soldier had chosen to give in to voice calling out to it and it wasn't going to back down anymore.

The soldier ran through the gray concrete halls and shot at the soldiers who got in its way with no remorse. It had been programmed to kill like that but years ago he had been ordered to stay loyal to Hydra, the people who created it. But now on a moment's whim, Subject 43 was disobeying its master's orders, knowing what the consequences would be.

Images of the countless years of torture ran like a river in the soldier's mind as it hesitated, stopping in front of the door. Subject 43 could still turn around, go back to its Master, and yield himself for the repairs that would follow.

The fresh morning air hit the soldier's face like a soft truck. For a fraction of a second, Subject 43 observed its surroundings before sprinting toward a motorcycle. Like always the keys were already in the bike and just like that, the soldier was out of there.

For the first time in its existence, Subject 43 was out on its own against Master's commands. The soldier didn't know what to do but it knew it needed to get back to that town.

The soldier drove the bike into the nearest village and left it lying in a side alley. It did as it had been taught to do: hotwired a pickup truck and took off. In the rearview mirror, it could see someone running out of a building and yelling at the car rolling into the distance.

Subject 43 drove on for about two hours before stopping in a town to change cars. It walked out of a side alley and looked around for its next car only to find a little child staring at it with huge eyes. Something in the soldier snapped and it wanted to take out any witnesses before the voice calling from the darkness was able to stop it.

"Mama, warum sieht er so aus?" the like boy asked pointing at the soldier. The boy's mom walked around the corner and took her son's hand, afraid of the weapon standing in front of her.