A World No Longer Ours (Scrypt)

Ki:


I heard his small comment on the speed of my reaction to his call to training, and I could have been faster if I wanted to. I didn't really want to though. A few seconds didn't matter much on my first day. But I'd amend it next time. I'd be ready before he got to the door if that was what he wanted.


Reaching our destination, I silently observed my first lesson through the window as Reese explained what I'd be doing. It wasn't far off from what I'd expected, but that didn't make me feel any better. I knew I could kill the man easily. He showed no signs of being anything special, likely a prisoner of my owners'. Someone who was going to die soon one way or another. I nodded my understanding of the exercise, glancing at Reese expectantly for detailed orders.
 
Reese-


I watched the man shifting a moment longer before he seemed to give up and just sit there, his head moving back and forth a bit as if he could see. I knew for a fact that he couldn't. "You don't know him, but there's a person under that hood. So far as you know, he's innocent, taken off the streets and brought here. He's unarmed and afraid, and perhaps he's had no ill intentions towards you at all. But you have orders to carry out - unquestioned orders."


I looked at her, if only to better gauge her reaction. "You will carry no weapons. You will break no bones and damage no major organs." Those were the quickest ways to kill, of course, but this was not about speed. This was about purpose, and about learning hers. "You are going to walk out this door and let him hear your footsteps, you are going to remove the hood from his head, you are going to put your hand around his throat, and you are going to squeeze with just enough force to stop him breathing." And then, she was going to watch him die, slowly and at her own hands. ". . . Now."
 
Ki:


Everything about Reese's words was unsettling. And they were supposed to be. This man could very well be off the streets. He had thoughts, feelings, dreams of his own. And I was supposed to end them. Slowly, not painlessly, and up-close. When strangling someone, it was difficult to ignore them. You could feel their pulse in your hand, the contractions of their muscles as they struggled. Killing someone in that state. It didn't sounds like a joyride. I subconsciously ran my thumb over my fingertips, repeating the action to distract myself from the racing of my heart. But as soon as I heard Reese's cue, I opened the door and did my best to control my steps and make them clear, trying to ignore the fact that each one seemed to activate some new tension in my test's posture. Watching people in discomfort was not pleasant and was doing nothing to relax my own muscles. As soon as I reached him, I gave myself no time to hesitate. Despite the fact that he was struggling again, I snatched off the hood, gripping it in my right hand, and with my left I tightened my fingers just below his jaw. The stifling of his panicked noises gave me the cue that my grip was strong enough. And then began the real challenge. The contact, the feelings beneath my fingers made it impossible to not look into his eyes, observe the contractions at the back of agape mouth, and cause my nails to dig through the hood in my hand to cut into the skin of my palm. Choking someone wasn't immediate. It took a good amount of time as far as killing methods went. And the entire time, I couldn't help but feel fearful. But I didn't run, I simply froze, staring into his eyes and listening to the blood rushing in my ears. Once he passed out, I didn't let go even though everything was a battle inside of me. The only reason I didn't move was indecisiveness. The panic, the fear fluttering in my chest told every part of me to let go. But nineteen years of cold white rooms and endless stern, threatening faces told me to hold on. I tried to reason with myself, thinking that he was going to die anyway one day or another. In this world, he would likely be killed a few days after he was released even if he wasn't a prisoner of war. His sudden disappearance would make people afraid of him. And he'd be killed. I knew that. When I felt his pulse completely disappear, my thoughts suddenly were still. I dropped my hand, suddenly realizing I was shaking. And that tears were falling silently with the racking of my body. And suddenly some switch flipped inside of my thoughts and I flung the chair on it back and the man along with it, forcing his jaw open and desperately forcing air into him with my own lungs, the bruises left by my hand staring at me through blurry vision. Along with the sudden reaction came some startling, painful noises finding their way through my constricting throat. My thoughts consisted of a repeated, he can't be dead he can't be dead he can't be dead. But I knew he was, even as I pumped my hands against his chest, trying to get him to accept the air I'd taken from him moments ago. I had to close my eyes when I went back to try to give him air again, not able to look at his neck. I repeated the process three times before my heart came to terms with my head. And everything inside of me gave a resounding, soulless thought. You killed him. But it helped me to stop crying. It just left me empty as I sat back on my heels, covering my face with my hands and listening to my own, disgusting breaths. And then as a response to my previous thought, as an order to only me I heard. You should die. I was out of tears, but my body continued shuddering. And I kept hearing, you should die you should die you should die.
 
((Oh my god the emotion >_<,))


Reese


For a moment I had thought she wouldn't do it. He had struggled and tried to thrash as any being would, voluntarily or involuntarily once his body realized it wasn't getting air, but the restraints had kept him mostly still, and she'd watched him like she was supposed to. I'd half expected her to just let him go, and she had shown promise until the moment she dove down after him and tried to bring him back. I stayed by the door, leaning on the frame and just watching her try, watching her shed tears into the grass for a person she'd never known, and knew she wouldn't be able to revive him after holding on so long. She was weak. That had to change.


Finally, when she was still, I pushed away from the wall and walked to where the body was, releasing the restraints. "You should know better." I said, taking the corpse by an arm and just dragging it away across the grass so that it could be picked up and disposed of later. She should've known he couldn't revive after she'd crushed his windpipe, and should've known she was never to try and save someone after having orders to kill. "If you're going to throw up, do it in the proper place."
 
(I spent forever writing that o-o"


I must have been typing two words per minute.)


Ki:


I knew I'd failed, for the most part. To whoever had given Reese the orders to tell me to kill the man, it was a partial failure. He was dead, I'd managed to do as much. But I'd lost it. It wasn't a clean operation. On the field, I would be dead right now. In my book, it was a complete failure. One part of me would have been able to congratulate myself if I hadn't been able to kill him. That part of me I did my best to block out. My so called 'heart.' The other part of me would have been appeased if I'd been able to walk away from my victim, silent and careless. That part that was my mind that was stoic and cruel and just wanted to move on. But now, everything inside of me was disappointed. I hated myself. I hated myself so much, I wanted to die. Even if it was entirely irrational to feel that way, I wasn't running on reason. Even if I knew the feeling would fade, I didn't want it to. I deserved to die. I deserved to be hated. That was all I deserved. And so through shuddering breaths I whispered, "Kill me." Even if it was quiet, it wasn't hesitant. I wanted what I asked for. "Kill me!" I screamed, springing up and clenching my fists at my side as I stared intently at Reese. The only solace in that moment was the throbbing pain of my nails in my palm. It felt bad. But that was what I deserved. I deserved to feel disgusting and filthy and awful. In every way. And living that way meant I might as well not exist. People shouldn't waste time making me feel miserable. They should just off me and get it over with.
 
((lol that's okay :) It was worth it. I'm making dinner now, so my replies will be slow))


Reese


I looked back at her when she first spoke, quiet and shaken but purposeful. But I waited, wanting her to have to repeat herself, to know that she wanted what she asked for. I dropped the body when she had, let it lie on the ground and just tilted my head at her. ". . . I don't take orders from you." I was going to have to watch her now, wasn't I? Or perhaps not. It was ingrained in us to want to live, and I doubted she had any more courage to kill herself than I. And so I only shrugged, and held my arms open a bit to encompass the space around us. "This is your life now, and it doesn't get any better. Keep complaining and I'll make you clean up." No mercy. She had to learn.
 
(Alright.)


Ki:


I continued shaking, covering my mouth with my hands and shaking my head at his response. I wasn't complaining. I knew this was it. This was all I could hope for in life. And then it clicked in my head, what I had observed of Reese yesterday. He hated himself, but he kept on going. He hated being a killer. Just like me. That shut me up. All of a sudden, I stopped shivering and turned my gaze to the wall surrounding us. No matter how free I felt, I was a prisoner. To myself. Within my very DNA, I was a prisoner. I was born to live this life, even if I hated it. And even if I wanted to die, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I rubbed my neck, imagining my fingers copying the act they had inflicted on the man on myself. But just the slightest pressure of my hand under my jaw made my arm instinctively fly back to my side. This was what all that dread was for. Death had seemed so unreal, but now I felt like we were partners in crime. It stood at my side, awaiting my call, the next time I had the resolve to end another's life. I could never undo what I'd just done. I had to suck it up and keep going, the only reason being so I could access a person who would kill me. Or until I found another reason to live. I walked briskly to the door, only pausing before I went inside to say, "I think...I can understand now." I glanced over my shoulder at Reese, to assure myself that what I had said was true. I didn't know all of his thoughts, I was nowhere close to truly understanding him. But I could. If he wanted me to understand, I could now.
 
Reese


When she looked at me, she looked at me as if she knew me. As if she could know anything at all about me. She could deduce certain things, but this was just a taste. This was nothing at all compared to what she would do in the future. "You don't understand anything yet." I said, and turned to drag the body further away, to the proper place where it would be taken away later on, before the scavengers could get to it. When that was done, I collected the chair and the restraints to put them back to where they belonged, and finally followed her inside. We weren't done, but she was to be allowed a period of recovery. For now.
 
Ki:


"I know," I murmured to myself, sighing. Could had been the key word in what I'd said. I could understand. But obviously he was averse to the idea, considering he rejected the possibility of me understanding. That was fine. I'd never been particularly fond of having people know me either. It made things unnecessarily complicated.


I didn't return to the library when I went back inside. Instead I returned to my room, intent on getting some sort of rest but quickly distracted by the mirror on the wall. I looked into it, observing myself. Prominent bags beneath my eyes, grass stains on my boots, and mild swelling around my eyes that made the tattoo of my barcode distort and become even more noticeable. My coding had been painful to say the least. They spared no expense, tattooing the lines right over my eye. Of course it healed to some extent, excreting the black ink in a very disgusting couple of days and scarring over. My vision was not what it had been in that eye. But it was good enough. Nonetheless, I could see the tiny blemishes left on my cornea by that needle in the mirror. And then my focus suddenly flew to the photo left on my nightstand, reflected in the mirror. I was by no means calmed down, I was just good at hiding it. But seeing my father's face nearly made me explode. He was the reason this was my life. And the gentle smile on his face held no remorse. The fact that he made people just like me, who were doomed to a captive life, was sickening. I turned and snatched up the picture, crumpling it into a ball and doing my best to calm my breath. I'd never been able to throw the picture away though, no matter how much it upset me. Because something about him being my father made it both more angering and more forgivable. I could only crumple it and then carefully unfold it when calm, and then crumple it again. I was painfully indecisive sometimes.
 
Reese


I spent ten minutes or so wandering the house, deciding which resource I should use next. Perhaps it was enough for today, to let her stew in her own misery. But that wouldn't be enough, I knew in the end, and there were other things to be done, other boundaries to push and break through. By the time I was done with her, she would be shattered and remade, sloppily, piece by piece.


I stopped briefly by her bedroom as I wandered, not going through the door but standing just outside it. "We're not done." I said simply. "You have three hours. Use them wisely." That was sufficient time. She could rest, and after that she could eat again, and then we would continue.


((gtg. Be back late tonight))
 
Ki:


I glanced at Reese, nodding my acknowledgment and pond what I would do for three hours. I glanced at my pile of books. I was done with reading. I'd had enough of that for today. But there was my collection of Debussy's works lying temptingly on the top of the book pile. One of the few copies on the face of the Earth actually. People didn't have time for music. They were too busy killing each other. I grabbed the sheet music, heading out into the hall and trying to think if I'd seen a music room before. I hadn't, which lead me to assume it was on the other side of the upper level, which I had not yet explored in the least. I was right. There was a music room, waiting quietly at the end of the hall. The grand piano inside was nothing to joke about as far as instruments went. It was was very finely crafted, clearly one of a kind. And I was glad it was. I hadn't played a decent piano ever since my piano tutor was dismissed. It also happened to be my favorite instrument to play. I sat at the bench, placing the sheet music on the small stand and selecting a random piece. Clair de Lune. Certainly relaxing. I laid my fingers on the keys, letting them drift over the instrument as I closed my eyes and played. I new Debussy's works well enough to play without the sheet music, even without sight. But I liked to have the notes before me anyways as a comfort in case I did happen to slip up. But my playing was smooth. I was no prodigy, but I knew how to play most pieces set before me. That didn't mean my playing sounded exceptional. It was always described as 'lacking feeling.' I found it ironic that all of a sudden, my playing seemed to have an added something. Something that drew on the anxious churning of my stomach and the pounding of my blood in my veins. I didn't like 'having feeling', or at lest this kind. It was painful. But the music somehow made it beautiful, collapsing in on itself and drawing me with it. I didn't cry. I was tired of it. And I let the feeling fall though my fingers onto the keys. I went through a number of pieces, never stopping. Reverie, The Girl With the Flaxen Hair, Mazurka, Arabesque. And often I repeated the pieces, though unknowingly. Piano playing wasn't my favorite activity. I didn't really have a favorite. But it seemed to be what I needed, for now. In my concentration, I forgot to eat, though I was too sick to really feel like eating. I just wanted to have some sort of comfort.


(M'kay)
 
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Reese


I walked away once she'd had time to acknowledge me, then went to my own bedroom and just sat on the floor with my back to a wall and planned. After a while, I could hear her playing the piano in the music room I'd yet to find interest enough in exploring. If it was her inclination to play, perhaps I should begin with the sound room, then. She was going to have to get used to the sounds of battle, after all, and a small room - by comparison - had been added in not long ago for just that purpose. It would do.
 
Ki:


I was only pulled from the piano by a wave of exhaustion. It suddenly made trailing my fingers over the keys seem remarkably laborious. So, knowing I'd never be able to sleep, I wandered about the house, exploring every nook in cranny. There was an innumerable variety of rooms, some I couldn't really identify the purpose of. But I think I managed to explore all of them. There was a pool flooded with light from a window in the roof, a large and luxurious living room which had a screen large enough to belong in a theater, a large padded room for combat training (which I soon left in discomfort because it was sickeningly familiar), and around four bedrooms from what I could tell. Of course there were other rooms but I could spend all day listing them. These were just the ones I really noticed. If I had free time like this everyday, I knew I wouldn't get bored. I walked by Reese's room, glanced at him and paused, but didn't say anything and kept on exploring. I didn't have anything to say to him really. Besides perhaps another request to kill me, but obviously he wasn't going to do that. When I stopped by the kitchen, I grabbed a pack of tasteless cracker's and snacked on them as I headed back to the pool area, trying to remember how deep it was. It seemed like a newer addition to the house, so maybe we'd be lucky enough to having it deep enough for diving or things of that nature.
 
Reese-


When the three hours was up, I stood and stretched out though there wasnt any stiffness in my limbs. The day I grew stiff from staying still for so long was the day I would be terminated for inability to carry out duties. I went in search of Ki and finally found her sitting outside, by the pool. Briefly, I considered the fact that she might try to drown herself, but that was a slow, painful way to die and I didn't think her the type. "Time's up." I said, standing in the doorway and not quite coming closer. "We have more work to do." I didn't tell her not to worry. I was here to train her, not coddle her.
 
Ki:


I glanced at Reese, placing my cracker's on the ground and sighing lightly as I moved to follow him. I wasn't up to doing anything. I wanted to just lay somewhere and close my eyes. Forever. I found no peace in existing anymore. It made me instead feel unrest. I had killed someone. There was no going back, there was no being forgiven, there was only the gradually growing feeling of disgust and filth at the thought of myself. Hopefully whatever I was about to do would be much less mentally draining. Not that there was anything left of my mind to drain really. I was already empty. But I didn't want to test if I could feel even emptier.
 
Reese-


I had gotten the room ready the day before, so there was already a chair sitting inside. The room was only fifteen by fifteen, the walls a pure white with a small screen in one corner. "Sit," I instructed, gesturing to the chair as I walked to the screen and started to pull up images that I would, in a moment, put on the walls for her to see. The room was soundproofed and any sound I played would bounce back at us. "I'm going to show you just a little bit of what a battlefield is like."


((Sorry for short post. I'm so hungry my brain isn't working lol must go eat lunch))
 
Ki:


I sat as instructed, though I was not happy about it. Fantastic, I thought, more death. Just what I need. I don't know why I was being sarcastic with myself; it was only more upsetting. I expected it was to be a sort of simulation where images formed a 360 degree view of a battlefield. I'd been submitted to this sort of thing before, though not as a full battlefield experience. Just me, a virtual reality device implanted at the base of my neck to intercept my brain signals, and a simulation of a course where the only enemies were essentially robots. They didn't couldn't simulate human death. They couldn't come close. And I was also alone in those simulations. There was no one fighting by my side. And then I realized that not only would my enemies be dying, but my partners as well. I was so glad I had a hard time attaching myself to people. Maybe I'd be able to ignore the fallen on the battlefield. Just maybe. If I didn't touch them or make eye contact, perhaps I could keep from scarring too badly. That was my heart talking though, trying to be heard, trying to keep from being beaten and bruised to the point where I didn't care. Where I didn't care about anything. But my mind wanted to not care. It wanted to make me stoic and cold. But my heart's response to the thought was only terror. Why couldn't I make a clear decision? Why couldn't my whole self just agree. Like it had hours ago, when the only thing I heard and felt and saw for a moment was You killed him. In some ways I expected this exercise to be worse. It made my reality even clearer, now that I had some idea of what I'd be doing. It was just going to throw the pain back in my face.


(I just ate too X3)
 
((Sorry, I had my emotions ripped out and stomped on with cleats by a paperback -_- It required some recovery time, and lots more reading lol))


Reese


I waited to be sure she was settled in, then started pulling up the right scenes and sounds on the screen, waiting to compile them before using them. "Headphones off." I ordered, waiting for her to obey before doing anything else. Too slow. With one quick gesture, I put my hands on the screen and threw them outwards, sending the images out across the room, where she could see without turning around in her chair. The same second that the images were up, the sound began to play, and I stood still and just waited.


It sounded of gunfire and explosions and shouting - orders, taunts, pain, death - and the images were of all things seen in warfare. Corpses and fire, soldiers running side by side, getting mowed down even as they took the enemy. I stood in a corner, out of the way, and waited for it all to reach her awareness. "You have to be able to hear over this," I called to her, though not very loudly, "When it's all happening around you. You have to know what's happening, what your advantages are, and what action is best to take. You have to hear your orders. Can you?"
 
(Oh, what book?


Sorry for falling off the face of the earth for a couple days. I just realized I had something to do, but I'm back now.)


Ki:


I obediently removed my headphones, leaving them hanging round my neck. The fullness of the sound made it all the more terrifying. I wanted it to stop, all the raw emotion being poured out around me. The screams and the shout, even the gunfire held some sort of desperate plea which I couldn't appease. It was a simulation, a simulation. That was it. The face of my victim flashed through my mind repeatedly, those pleading eyes. But I slowed my breath, swallowed, and calmed myself, focusing in on the sound of Reese's voice, which was easy to pick out now that I had noticed. I nodded, very distinctly, not in a disheartened way. I prayed he'd say more, to distract me. But I felt like soon I would be left here with my own thoughts and a few cameras of course. That was too terrifying to even imagine.
 
((Its okay. No prob. And it was Looking For Alaska, by John Green. I finished the book so I can love him again now, but at the time I just wanted to strangle him xD ))


Reese-


I nodded when she acknowledged me, and moved slowly away from where I'd been standing, to a different corner. I wanted to know if she could still track me, or if she would let everything else going on around her distract her. "For now I give the orders," I said, "but on the battle field you'll have a general or a captain. For now, I'm that. You take orders from me without question. . . Now stand up."
 
(Oh that book, I'm currently reading that. I think it's already been spoiled for me /sigh


But I love his reading so, gonna finish it anyway.


After reading The Fault In Our Stars, he's become one of my favorite author's.)


Ki:


It took me moment to place Reese's voice again, but I did it in time to hear his orders and stood as I was told. Thank goodness he hadn't left yet. The sounds, despite drifting about in my subconscious, were starting to make me more anxious. But I had orders, I had direction, I wasn't just enduring this for no reason.
 
((I know, right? :3 That was the first book I read of his, but I've been watching him and Hank on youtube for a long time so I knew he was an author already. But after I read the Fault in Our Stars, I bought every single one of his other books, except Will Grayson will grayson. I think I bought them before it came out))


Reese


I nodded slowly to myself, though I knew that she wasn't looking quite at me. There were images playing on the walls either side of me of course, and as I didn't move they would keep her attention better than looking at me could. "Turn around," I said, without praise or acknowledgement, "And stand on your hands on the chair." I needed her to prove she would still have her usual dexterity and grace while under fire. She would need it.
 
(I have Will Grayson, Will Grayson and Looking for Alaska, and of course The Fault In Our Stars, but I haven't had time to read any of them besides TFIOS. His writing is amazing and as soon as I finish the books of his that I have, I'll probably buy more. But it's because of TFIOS that I started watching the vlogbrothers. Not consistently but, often enough. I don't know why I hadn't looked into their channel before, but I'm glad I have now.)


Ki:


I followed his directions, forcing my eyes to actually focus on something. The chair. And the area behind it which was flashing some horrific images. But I ignored them, as best I could, placing my hands on the seat of the chair and easing myself over them. It was a pretty simple task when you had vast genetic improvements in strength and coordination. And thankfully the rush of blood to my head was enough to blur my vision and drown out my hearing. I could see strands of purple before me, realizing my hair had grown out quite significantly since I last cut it. I'd have to put it up tomorrow at this rate. It was unbelievable how annoying that little genetic modification was. I'd probably have a mile of hair now if I'd never tried keeping up with it. I huffed, blowing the strands away and blinking the water out of my eyes. It made things mildly clearer, which I was immediately regretful of. Death, pain, desperation, all were blatantly portrayed before me. Even upside-down, it wasn't hard to tell. But I kept myself calm, breathing through my nose slowly.
 
((I haven't read Will Grayson, Will Grayson either, but I've read Paper Towns, and that was really good. I own Abundance of Katherines, but I haven't read it yet. I'm finally finishing a trilogy I bought forever ago xD I finished the second book in a trilogy and hated the author at the end of it, so I never read the third until now lol))


Reese-


While she moved to obey, I circled around until I was at her back, knowing it would be more difficult for her to hear. It didn't matter what was difficult. Her hearing was stronger than humans' and she had to be able to pick out important voices on the battle field. "Now, over the back, onto your feet. Don't let the legs leave the ground." It was a fold-out chair, stable by design but would tip if she moved the wrong way. "Remember your training." She was wavering, I could see it in her eyes. She had to push past what made her uncomfortable or unhappy. Her feelings weren't important anymore.
 
(I can't decide if I want to read An Abundance of Katherines or Paper Towns after I read Will Grayson, Will Grayson. I'll probably read all of them eventually though. What trilogy is that?)


Ki:


I took in a breath, bending my arms and pushing up off of the chair to flip over the back, landing cleanly on my feet and releasing the breath. I could see Reese easily now if I so wished, but I avoided looking at him. I didn't want this to feel more real. I didn't want to see people. I only wanted to maybe hear them, to distract me. And I didn't want them to be panicked. No, I couldn't take any more desperation. It made me sick, thinking of Reese sounding like the voices being played throughout the room. He sounded more real, since he actually was. And he was stoic enough that him panicking might tip me over the edge. If he couldn't take it, I wouldn't be able to. And even if he was just faking panic, he might be able to trick my subconscious. My heart. The part of me that was struggling to survive.
 
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