Rogue

12

~Alyssa~

My heart rate rapidly increases as I approach the tall building. Never in my life have I had to learn how to fight. Sure, I was taught how to use guns and knives when I was younger, but that was many years ago. I'm probably as rusty as one could possibly be in those categories. And hand-to-hand combat? I might as well forget about trying to get on the good side of these soldiers today with the little skills I possess.

   I look down at my shirt and notice the clear liquid still spilling down from my mouth, as well as some silver liquid. They were right. I've been bleeding the painful serum out all day, mainly through my mouth and nose. It's been almost twenty-four hours now, but not quite yet. I wish it was, so I can get this crap out of my veins.

   The good news is, even though I'm still getting shocked, it's not as strong or frequent. I can barely feel them coming now, and I hope that this is it. Maybe they won't ever give it to me again. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure that they won't.

   Finally, I'm standing in front of the tall iron gates. Before I can make a move, a guard dressed in a white bodysuit and helmet comes over and unlocks them, pushing both open and holding out a hand. I take it with caution, and the guard begins leading me along the dead, barren landscape. Then, I feel a hand wrap around my wrist tightly, almost as if I could get away if I tried. As we approach the tall doors, the guard holds up his right wrist, showing a barcode. A green light erupts from the door and scans it. A hissing noise comes from inside, and the door slowly creaks open, allowing us inside.

   We walk down several hallways, all of them completely barren. The dark gray are uninviting, just like the rest of the building. I run my hand along them as we walk, then yank it away quickly when I find just how cold they are.

   The guard's grip on my wrist is beginning to hurt as we keep turning down hallways. This seems endless. Finally, another corner is turned before the guard stands in front of a wall. Then, he walks through the wall, revealing a winding staircase.

   I wonder how much of this place is a hologram, and how much of it is actually real. 

   When the guard has pulled me inside, he pushes me ahead of him, which almost makes me fall down the staircase. I manage to catch myself right before I slip, though, and I breathe a sigh of relief. If I'd been a second too late, I would've been lying at the bottom of the concrete steps with a blood-covered head and a snapped neck.

   Though being trapped here isn't much better than that.

    We make it to the bottom of the stairs, and the guard leans over me and pushes open a door. The room that I am pushed into is dark and cold, but I can tell that I'm surrounded by weapons. The scent of gunpowder and steel fills the air. For some reason, I get the feeling that we're not alone in here.

    Maybe they're not going to train me at all. Maybe I'm just about to get shot or have my throat slit.

    "Sit down," commands the guard in a gruff voice. I slowly obey, kneeling and touching the floor before shifting positions and crossing my legs. I press my palms against the floor and wait. I'm not completely sure what I'm waiting for, but I have a pretty good idea. Probably something along the lines of the cold barrel of a gun to be pressed against my head or chest, or maybe a sharp blade against my throat. I wait and wait, but neither comes.

    Suddenly, a familiar voice rings throughout the room. "Thank you, Ivan. You can go now." A pair of cold hands slide over my shoulders as the soldier from yesterday pauses. "We'll take good care of her."

    "Thank you, Private Massey," says Ivan before turning and taking his leave.

    I slowly turn my head and look around, even though I know it won't do any good. When the hands begin to slide to the base of my neck, I quickly face the front again.