Rogue

14

~Alyssa~

I sit in absolute silence, my back pressed against the wall, my eyes shut as hard as I can bear. The screams of pain continue, filling the whole room, but it's especially loud here. Nausea fills my stomach as I feel liquid seeping through my pants and touching my thigh. Blood serum.

     Wayne is being tortured right next to me for no other reason than to be an example of what will happen to us if we choose to defy any of our captors. The man whose voice has always been soft is now screaming at the top of his lungs, damaging his throat in agony. He's gone almost hoarse, but he's still in major pain. I don't blame him.

     After another few moments, I hear the guards withdraw, and I hear Wayne collapse to the ground, muffled sobs now the only thing coming from his throat. Slowly, my hand finds the top of his head, and I stroke his hair in an attempt to make him feel better.

     There is a mumble from the other side of the room, something about him being weak for crying in pain, which riles me up.

     I don't blame Wayne for allowing the tears to fall.

     The man who was always questioning what we looked like, the man who was so ready to see us all in the daylight when we got out, has had a needle stabbed through each eye, tearing through sensors, his corneas, and his retinas.

     Wayne couldn't wait to see us all free, but now he's blind.

     Slowly, he crawls up to me and rests his head on my lap as I continue to stroke his hair. I allow myself to open my eyes, biting my lip to keep from crying out. His eyes are still oozing blood serum, a bit of crimson leaking out as well. I can't make out his irises anymore.

     "Who---?" he whispers softly.

     "Alyssa," I reply quietly.

     "Really?" I nod, then realize that he can't see it.

     "Yeah," I whisper back. "Does it hurt?"

     "Definitely." He closes his eyes for a minute, then opens them again. His jaw tightens, then loosens once more. I push a strand of blond hair out of his face and grimace as he lets out another pained breath. "Do I still look like I said I did?"

     I attempt to recall his description of himself, which irks me. I've heard it thousands of times in the past few years. I should know it by now. Finally, my brain settles on it. "Yeah. Blond hair, natural tan complexion, skinny." I decide to leave out his eye color, knowing that it would probably upset him right now.

     Wayne nods solemnly, reaching up and running his fingers through my tangled hair. "Black," he murmurs to himself. His hand makes its way down my face, stopping at my closed eyelids. "Green." A cheek caress. "Pale as a ghost, seventeen to twenty-one." Another tear rolls down his cheek as he grits his teeth in agony. "I can't believe I didn't recognize you when they brought you in. I was fearing that you'd been one of the ones that was gunned down trying to get here."

     "It's alright," I say with a small shrug. "I honestly didn't recognize anyone until I heard their voices."

     He sighs. "I wish I could've looked over when they dragged me over here. I wish I'd looked to the left one last time. Maybe I would've known."

     "Why?" It's a stupid question, not totally the one that I was meaning to ask. My words are refusing to come out though. It seemed to matter to him that he saw me. What made him feel that way?

     Wayne gives me a small, sad smile. "Of all the people in that room, you were the one that I wanted to see most."

    I bite my lip again, not knowing what to say to that. It's killing me inside, knowing that he won't be able to get his wish now.

    Outside, I can hear the tapping of the rain begin.

    "No signs of physical affection are allowed," a guard snaps, and Wayne is yanked off of me. I am pulled to my feet and led a few feet away before I am pushed down to my knees. The butt of the gun makes its way into my skull again, and I hit the ground face first. There is a burning sensation in my back, searing pain as whatever the source is eats through my shirt to the skin of my back. It is pressed further, sinking in, and I hold back a scream.

    "You're one eighty-seven, correct?" asks the guard, pressing the burning object against my flesh harder.

    "Yes, sir," I manage, gritting my teeth together. A small hiss makes its way out of them as more pain shoots through my body.

    "You definitely lived up to your name, didn't you?" The sound of metal scraping metal fills the air, and a blade is plunged into my back as well. The guard slashes viciously, not seeming to have aim or direction, and I wince slightly as it breaks my skin over and over again. "This is milder than what they felt. What were you thinking when you took their lives?"

    How right it was.

    I shake my head, pushing the thought away. "I don't know, sir."

    "Now that I can believe," the guard says with a cruel laugh. "Do thoughts even run through your head anymore, or do you mindlessly follow the leader?"

    I choose the former, while you go with the latter.

    My mouth opens, but a small, stinging feeling stops me from speaking. The sounds of guns being loaded fills the room, and every single guard turns to face the door. I try to move, try to speak, try to push myself off of the ground, try something, but I am completely paralyzed.

    The sound of more bodies dropping fills the room, and I realize the frequency at which it is being done. Something is happening. Something huge. Something that they may or may not have been wholly prepared for.

    The sting is spreading, travelling over my whole body now. I can barely stand the agony now as it keeps intensifying.

    Dark spots cloud my vision, and I willingly succumb to unconsciousness.

~ ~ ~

My ears are ringing terribly.

    That's the first thing I notice when I come to. I absolutely cannot hear a thing other than the shrill sound in my head. There seems to be a noise in the background, a deep blasting, but I am unsure.

    The second thing that catches my attention is that I'm levitating.

    No, not levitating. Someone is holding me at an odd angle, arching me over a shoulder. I open my heavy eyelids, attempting to figure out what's going on.

    Bright lights flash, then everything goes dark. More lights are flashing everywhere, and that's all I can make out. My head is spinning so fast that I'm sure I'd fall. Another light flashes, and I realize that they're not lights at all.

    I'm in the middle of gunfire.

    I try to move, try to speak, but I still can't. I don't even know who's holding me at the moment.

    After a few more moments of nonstop movement, we are headed on an upward slope, and then a door is open. The dim twilight fills my vision, making me smile just a little.

    I never thought I'd see the outdoors again.

    The scent of wet earth fills my nose, and I breathe in with delight. Then I attempt, one more time, to move.

    My head shifts slightly, looking up at a very familiar young man with wild dark hair, dark eyes, and burn scars on his neck. He looks uncomfortable and slightly pained, yet he still keeps moving. His grip around my stomach tightens as he holds up his weapon with his free hand.

    "William," I murmur.

    Then my head lolls again, and I succumb to the black once more.