Hatchetfield Stories

The Human Body

This was originally supposed to be a happy ending but yeah that didn't happen.

Me: coming up with random theories just so the plot makes sense

TRIGGER WARNINGS:
-Torture
-Broken bones
-Stabbing
-Guns
-Needles
-Hospitals
-Death

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"Hidgens, please! It's me, Emma Perkins!" Emma begged as she was strapped to the table. Hidgens didn't respond and tightened the straps around her ankles. "Hidgens?"

"The man you knew is gone," Hidgens spoke, though it didn't sound like his voice. "He willingly gave us his body, and therefore he will get the honor of figuring out how humans work."

"Figuring out how humans work? I swear to God if you-"

"If I what, Emma? Make the world a better place? We've come so far, we only have to figure out what these bodies can, and more importantly, can't do."

Emma tugged at the restraints. "Bullshit," she spat, "You're literally in the body of a biology professor, you can just steal his knowledge."

The professor sighed, clearly annoyed. "It's more complicated than that. You see, Emma, the Hive can access memories of the bodies we own, to some extent."

"You don't own anyone's body."

"As I was saying... We can recognize the faces of friends or family and know who they are and what they're like. We can't access all the memories. You see, the Hive currently has two thousand three hundred and fifty-one human bodies. If we'd know everything about them; their hobbies, interests, and in this case, knowledge, it'd be too much to handle. And no, it's not like 'we just take the memories of one person', no, we can't do that."

Emma didn't understand half of what he was saying, but she was shocked by the number of people that they had killed. Two thousand three hundred fifty-one innocent civilians.

"So..." the professor said as he grabbed a scalpel from the table. "Are you ready?"

Emma's eyes widened. "No! Stop! Let me go!"

The door opened. Emma couldn't tilt her head far enough to see who walked in, but she heard footsteps getting closer.

"Hey, Henry. Do you need help?" a voice asked.

Emma tensed up. She'd recognize that voice anywhere.

Paul.

"Yes. Emma here is being stubborn."

Paul chuckled. He sat down next to her, grabbing her hand, despite the restraints. "Hi, Em."

Emma looked at him. His eyes were glowing blue and he had some scars on his face, though they were already faded. Probably from blowing up the meteor.

"Paul?"

"Yes, Emma. I'll be right here."

"Hey, you two," the professor interrupted, "Shut up. I have some experiments to do." He put on some gloves and walked towards Emma. He started undoing the restraint around her left wrist and Emma tensed up. She didn't want to know what would happen next.

Hidgens inspected her hand, moving her fingers around and making comments about how fascinating it was.

Paul squeezed her other hand. "Henry, why don't we just make the girl join us?"

"Because we have to know what these bodies are capable of. Besides, she has caused us enough trouble, and she must pay the price." He yanked her wrist back and a sickening 'SNAP' sounded through the room, followed by an agonizing scream.

The pain was unbearable, and tears streamed down Emma's cheeks. Paul was stroking her head in an attempt to comfort her, but she didn't know if he was doing it for her benefit or just because he didn't like the sound of her screams.

"Interesting..." the professor mumbled, scribbling some notes down.

Emma looked down at her arm and her wrist was bent the wrong way. It was definitely broken.

"You would say the bodies would be stronger," Paul mumbled.

"Luckily the Hive takes care of all injuries, so we don't have to worry about that. Anyway, we know their intestines are right here," Hidgens said, putting his hand on Emma's stomach. She tried to get away, but his hand pushed her firmly against the table. "The thing I'm most curious about is their legs. We need them to dance, after all."

Paul let her hand go to tie her broken wrist again. Luckily he made sure it wasn't too tight, but she couldn't get away.

Hidgens grabbed the scalpel from the table and sat down on his chair. "Paul, will you please keep the girl calm. From what we know, humans don't like it when you cut through their skin."

"Fuck you!" Emma spat. "Let me go!" She tugged at the restraints, but stopped as an unbearable pain shot up her arm.

"Stay still," Hidgens said as he made a deep cut in her leg. Her right leg. Great, now she wouldn't be able to walk on either of her legs. Her whole body tensed up and her throat hurt from screaming.

Paul smiled at her, squeezing her hand. The professor prodded at the wound, making comments about how her blood should be blue. He wrote down some more notes and stood up. "I think I know enough for now." He walked to a cabinet and opened it, grabbing a gun.

"NO! PLEASE!" Emma cried. She looked at Paul, still wishing he would save her.

The glowing in his eyes dimmed slightly, and he looked confused. He turned around and saw that professor Hidgens was holding a gun. His eyes widened, he jumped up and kicked the professor's knees, making him fall to the floor. He kicked some more until he wasn't moving anymore. Then he turned to Emma.

"No, Paul, please, you're one of them!" she begged as he came closer.

"I am? No, Emma, it's me." He started undoing the restraints. "We have to get out of here."

"I don't think so, first I want a fucking explanation."

"Fine. I'm still infected, okay? I'm just fighting for control over my own body, and I finally won. Your screams... They were the thing that made me realize something was wrong." He looked at her wrist. "Let's get out of here."

He lifted Emma into his arms. He walked out of the bunker as fast as he could. "We have to get to Clivesdale."

"I know. We have to get the fuck out of here."

A black helicopter flew over their head and landed near them. "Come here!" someone shouted. "You're human!"

Paul ran to the helicopter and as soon as they got inside, soldiers surrounded them. They inspected Emma's injuries. "To the hospital," someone said to the pilot.

"Listen," Paul said. "I'm partially infected. You might want to restrain me."

"No!" Emma protested as the soldiers nodded and guided him to one of the seats. "He saved me! It's safe!"

"Emma, I'm just trying to protect you."

"I don't need you to protect me! I just got tortured, dammit. I need you here!"

A soldier grabbed her from behind. She felt a prick in her shoulder and her vision began to blur. Two soldiers sat her down in a seat as everything went dark.

*** *** ***

"Where the fuck am I?" Emma asked, squinting at the bright lights.

A man in a white coat, probably a doctor, approached her. "You're in the Clivesdale Hospital. You were tortured, do you remember that?"

Emma nodded. "Where's Paul?"

The doctor sighed. "He's dead. He started singing not long after they knocked you out. He was too far gone. They shot him. It wasn't safe anymore."

"No! NO, NO, NO!" Emma cried. She yelled at the doctor for the next ten minutes, until he left and locked the door behind him. Emma got up and stumbled to the door, ignoring the pain in both of her legs. "PAUL!" she screamed, pounding on the door, the cast around her wrist made loud bangs echo through the halls. After a few minutes, she let herself fall against the door, still crying and exhausted from everything that had happened.

She was alone.