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"77" The guard yelled throughout the hall. I should've answered, I could've answered but my mouth would make no sound. He yelled the numbers again this time with more anger. I had never really grasped the concept of anger; people would get upset for reasons that were undiscovered and take it out on someone else - how was that fair?
I stood at the bars, reaching my hand through them as if I was grasping for something but that would remain unknown. My arm was marked with the numbers "077." I wanted to yell for his attention but it always seemed as if no one was listening to the words that were being unspoken.
"There you are!" I nodded at his words, he almost seemed happy to see me, his words bending the truth of humanity. Though in his gentle words his movements became harsh and strict. He pushed me down the halls, a bright smile appeared on his lips, his pleasure was watching others in pain, he became destructive again. "It's selection day, are you ready?"
I shook my head. I despised selection day...it brought nothing but terror to the inmates. You were either classified as weak or mediocre, nothing would ever be good enough for them and that's what scared me. They put you through tests and simulations only to go sit back in a cell, alone, until the next selection. I never knew what happened if you were selected, it was like a flipping a coin; the decision would always be changing. I never heard the screams of those that were selected, I only heard the cries of those who didn't. We all believed that if you were selected, you were being sent to the rumored execution room. They all wanted to die, they would rather dance with the angel of death than walk another day.
"77, please stand on the X" A voice over the intercom broke me out of my thoughts that could've been played out as a tragedy. I stood on the purple tape that represented an X, knowing the horror stories that went on before me a someone stood on the tape.
People surrounded me. Taking pictures of my body and measuring my frame. I was thinner than before, they cut rations with microwave bread rolls that had tasted of corpses."She's thinner." An obvious statement, she wrote down the loss of weight in her messy handwriting, pretending it was important information that would soon change the world. They wrote every detail about the inmates as if every single piece of that information was revolutionary. "But her structure is good."
They shoved me to a treadmill, adding wires to my skin to monitor my vitals and speed. It became an unfortunate routine that I was all too familiar with.
"Run Eliza, run" A man whispered into my ear as he tightened a strap that sat on my shoulder. I haven't heard that name in years, it became another person that had been thrown away. Chills ran down my spine, worry took over my body. A flash of pain hit me, I wasn't Eliza Taylor anymore I was Soldier 77. I didn't have a name, I was a number on an interchanging list. I looked at the man, he looked familiar but his demeanor felt stranger like. My mind ran through memories trying to remember the unrecognizable face. I tried to conjure up a name, pages of names running through my mind. Nothing.
I stood on the running mat, my idea of running still undecided. I heard the sound of gunshots and falling bodies, an alarm going off that flashed the color red. We were being invaded. The organization had prepared us for a disaster but none this extent. Some ran towards me, trying to untangle the wires but merely failed. They heard the apprehension coming closer.
"Hands off of the girl." I heard someone yell, I didn't dare to open my eyes, I was afraid to see who was standing there when I was there. I heard a gunshot, the echo of the sound making me jump. I felt a weight on my legs, a warm goo coating my bare legs. "Ma'am, open your eyes." Anxiety filled my body as a reassuring hand held my shoulder.
I slowly opened my eyes, a darker man standing in front of me, taking the wires off of my cold body. A weight lifted off of me when he released the straps, my legs had gained an attachment of another body. More gunshots and groans filled the halls that were next to us, who were they?
My hand reached for the closest object. I felt the frigid layer of metal, my hand touching the surrounding of it, it was a tank that held something. I slammed the object into the man's side, he fell next to the bleeding scientists, holding his side in pain. I felt remorse for what I did but then I looked at myself; I was in more pain than anyone who lived, though it wasn't physical, mental pain hurts more than any stone that hits your body.
I ran for the doors that were behind me, my continuation of looking behind me to see if I was safe, and every time I did, nothing was there. I hid in a dorm of prisoners, they were all reaching for me, grabbing onto my arms and legs, they all cried for help, an end to their lives. And in the end, I wanted to join them.
"Eliza, help me" A girl groaned, her hand grabbing my wrist. A flash of coldness overcame me, she stared at me, her eyes changing in emotion that I had no idea about. I held her hand in return, reassuring that I was going to help, my mind drawing a blank. I heard the sounds of feet hitting the floor beneath them in sync, codes were being shouted and motions being thrown.
A loud bang hit the door, my search for a way out had been shortened. I looked for a weapon but came up empty-handed, the door bent in from the battering ram they were using. The repetition of the banging had become more consistent. The door burst open, the inmates fell backward at the sound.
A man appeared through the door, the light shining behind him, the glow making his features hidden against the dark.
