The Damaged

Chapter Fourteen

All the transfer initiates lean or sit against the walls of a narrow hallway Amar left us in; it's dark with only a few lights lining across the ceiling.

I sit with my legs crossed, Tara on my side with Mia in front of us. My eyes can't help but wander towards the end of the group where Four stands by himself, he keeps his head bowed; statue-like.

"What do you think is going to happen?" Mia asks nervously, I can see she's afraid by how she's sitting on her hands to keep them from shaking.

I wish I had an answer, but I don't. No one does. It's been several minutes since Amar walked through the door at the end of the hallway, leaving us all to question.

All we know is that stage two of initiation is to do with emotions. What that means, I don't know.

The door opens back up, Amar's eyes look straight towards the end of the hallway. "Four" he beckons, gesturing to his first victim to enter. Over Amar's shoulder, I can see the glow of a computer.

Four straightens back up and walks down the small walkway, keeping his head held high. Our eyes meet for just a moment until he's passed the door frame and they're both closed in.

It feels like hours since we all came into the room, one by one; someone is escorted back. No one uses the door again as an exit. There's the occasional scream or sob, it must have something to do with our fears.

"Amalia" Amar finally calls me inside. Only Tara and Xander are left in the hallway.

I stand and walk with my arms crossed securely over my chest, letting the door close behind me when I enter the room.

It's dark and humid, a familiar steel chair sits in the middle of the room; much like the aptitude test except this one looks more worn and abandoned.

When I sit, that's when I notice two things; the syringe and a small black camera pointing directly across from me.

"A simulation?" I ask with the clearest voice I can manage. My head turns enough to watch him come to my side without question.

"The less you know, the better." It sounds like he's used that line more than once today.

The needle enters my neck. I can already feel the serum taking course, my vision begins to blur as I stare into the light.

I shouldn't be afraid. I know I can alter my fears into something else... but why can't I stop feeling beads of sweat dripping down my neck?

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All the lights in the room go out, one remains in the center. My footsteps echo against the walls as I wake towards the light, a chill runs up my spine. The sound of dripping water sounds from a corner.

When I'm directly under the light, I notice which fear I'm encountering today.

Myself.

"Hello, Amalia" my reflection greets. My hands automatically go into fists. All I can do is stay silent, remembering what happened the last time.

"After everything you've been through in the last week; the fighting, the capture-the-flag win, the kiss, yet you still can't stop thinking about the throwing knife" she begins to travel through the mirrors. Circling me as if she's hunting her prey.

"It was just a knife" I choke out. The sweat continues to fall down my neck, my shirt already drenched.

"But a knife is never a knife with you, now is it?" She stops in the mirror in front of me. This time, I'm okay with looking back at myself- I've accepted mirrors as they are. Objects.