United in time, divided in mind

After the trauma of Veronica, I was forced to live in one of the glass cubicles of the Clearing. No one was sure if I was going to pull through and wake up the morning after I went to sleep, so they kept me in solitary and monitored every little thing they possibly could. 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒷𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈.

The separation from Andy really started to tear at my skin and by the start of the sixth week, I was restless. My hands shook with anticipation as the tightness in my joints wound up like a spring. They couldn't figure out why my body was reacting like this; I couldn't tell them the truth, so I suffered in silence.

I tried not to focus on my loss and my grief, instead, directing my thoughts to my newest senses and furthered limits. I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that I had another person – thing – inside my body. It kinda made me sick.

Before they could even discharge me, I had vanished, my mind directing my legs to the only destination that made sense: the Arena. He would come and find me here. Hammering like a drum, my heart thumped as I craved the slightest scent of his skin.

I had to distract myself.

The feelings had my skin shifting uncomfortably; I didn't want Veronica learning how much he meant to me. The idea that we might have to share made me even more ill. 𝐻𝑒'𝓈 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒. So I attached my favourite punching bag to the ceiling wall and started to train. The physical exertion usually did wonders to my aching muscles.

As they itched to attack, I felt a pool of energy sing in pleasure deep within my mind. It hummed with a dark, sadistic satisfaction at the ruthlessness of my fists as they plunged into the soft bag like they craved human flesh. Dipping my toes further into uncharted waters, I felt her creep closer and closer to the surface. It was like stealing a cookie from the jar on the top shelf. Being bad never felt so good. The taste of forbidden fruit is always the sweetest but beginning sweetness never stays.

Quickly bitterness replaced it, a deep chill turning my blood to ice. The darkness in my veins became an all too familiar colour, as it scrambled its way up my body like sunshine chasing shadows. The horrible aftertaste was quickly washed away by the need, the pure desperation that pushed me to fight harder. Tunnel vision.

It was like a bubble in my chest, growing and glowing the more I fuelled the fire. Within seconds I was giving in, throwing every part of myself on the fire, enslaved by the bone crushing addiction. It sang in harmony with my thriving muscles as I revelled in the sensation. The energy boiled and fizzed and exploded within me. Expanding, until it touched every nerve ending in my body. My pupils dilated.

Bang.

My fist flew straight through the bag like a bullet.

I gulped. 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝒷𝑒 𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓈𝒾𝒷𝓁𝑒. 𝒩𝑜𝓉 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝑒. Breathing deeply, I shook my head, trying to rouse myself from the trance I had inadvertently put myself in. Rubbing my skin raw, I tugged my arm out of the gaping hole, watching the sand stream. I tutted sadly.

𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀'𝓈 𝓈𝒶𝓀𝑒, 𝓂𝓎 𝓅𝑜𝑜𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒫𝑒𝓉𝓊𝓃𝒾𝒶...

Whining sadly, I let my head fall back as disappointment rushed through me, only to have my gaze stolen by a beauty. The Institute had many weapons imported from various different places with dates and eras beyond my knowledge, but this one was my favourite. A slow smile filled with nostalgia stretched across my face. I remember the first time I saw her. It was like I was frozen, struck by a flash of golden lightning. The connection was undeniable.

She was an old model Desert Eagle pistol but was equipped with modern accessories that made her truly deadly. With a science I didn't care to understand the bullets could split into three in mid-air, catching anyone in range. Fused with pellets of liquid mercury, they melted upon impact and could burn through the skin, leaving nothing to dig out. The beautiful golden casing was the perfectly weighted; the cold rush of the metal to the touch felt like home.

Polishing her tiger striped golden body, I smiled happily. She felt warm in my hand, a perfect fit. Quickly, checking the cartridge, I counted the glowing bullets. Seven. That meant I had a full magazine of .50, but they were interchangeable with two other mag clips. I smiled with anticipation. I always counted my shots, running out was never an option in the field. Running out meant death. 𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓉, 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓀.

With a snap of the pistol clip and screech of the slide, we were locked and fully loaded. Aiming at my target, I took a deep breath my mind quickly walking through the steps. Brace. Aim. Fire. Adrenaline. It rushed through me like a wild fire as the kick back burned through my muscles. Rapid fire, moving and dodging as I did, gave me a rush like no other. I took a deep breath as I savoured the moment. The sounds. The smell. I giggled, high on the sensation. High on gun powder.

Fingers wrapped round her body like a vice, my eyes tracing each delicate curve and crevice until, in the reflection, they met my own again. I gulped. Red and black stared back at me. Wide, almost unending pupils melted into vibrant, static red irises. Dangerously, the two danced, squabbling like teenagers over more space, more territory. They twisted and turned, pulsing with energy as they carried their meaning within. She was here. I stared, mesmerised by both awe and fear.

𝕳𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖔, 𝖃𝖊𝖗𝖔.

A buzzer.

Like the snap of an arm, the trance was broken. Like a sucker punch, she retreated back into the darker depths of my mind. Hidden. Everything shifted back to the way it was like nothing ever happened. It felt like flicking a switch. Off. Hearing footsteps, I quickly wrapped up my confusing can of worms and put back on my mask.

I looked up, only to see Andreas and Ezra. Warmth. In a blink I was embraced. Warm hands held tightly onto me as if I was an oasis, a mirage. A figment of imagination. I sighed as the walls slipped away.

"Hey, Andy." My words were muffled by his chest but still audible. He always heard me.

Pulling away from me slightly, he looked me deep in the eye. Searching. I stared back, unafraid of his probing, instead meeting his gaze defiantly. Tears filled his own.

"It's really you."

"It's me." I nodded, feeling chocked up by his blissful happiness. Holding my face in his hands, he passionately stared and danced and smiled. I could feel every inch of him as if he was a part of me. Lips only parted to breathe and whisper sweet things. No space. Caressing my hair, he embraced me, holding me close to his chest.

"They said they were going to replace you. That you weren't going to be you anymore. That you wouldn't remember anything. Or anyone." He blubbered, squeezing me tightly. I smiled knowingly.

𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌. I kissed him softly as I attempted to take away the pain. He was in so much pain. I didn't want to dive into the details; I was afraid he'd drown.

"It's good to have you back, midge." Ezra shouted boisterously as he ruffled my hair.

"Missed you too, assface." I hissed playfully, straightening myself out and whacking him upside the head.

And so, with Andy's arm around my shoulder, Ezra's arm around my waist and our heads held high, we began our journey back to my cell. On the way, I told them about what had happened, what was still happening and what was yet to come: a horrifying notion that stressed me more than I could let on. The future that hung in the air like an unspoken word was what was going to condemn me to a lifetime of servitude. The idea of bowing to a master made goose bumps ripple across my flesh.

Reaching my cell door, I sighed. Time had cut our reunion short, I had drawn a rough sketch of the unfortunate events, but there were details that had escaped me. Quietly slipping behind my barred door, I kissed Andy's fingers.

𝒢𝑜𝑜𝒹𝒷𝓎𝑒, 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒.

𝓤𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓵 𝓽𝓸𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓻𝓸𝔀.

Gritting my teeth with a building sorrow, I walked over to the little square mirror above my sink, staring at my reflection. Tension filled my muscles as I felt my frustration slowly leak down the drain. I inspected my eyes; they were just as I remembered, blue and purple with silver rims. I saw chocolate freckled skin, full lips, long lashes and a small button nose. My reflection was me.

I turned my head to the left. She copied.

I moved my head back to the right. She did the same.

I raised my hand. But she didn't.

My body froze in dread as I watched my reflection turn into something nightmares are made of. Its skin began to dissipate as it melted like burning gelatine. It glooped and dripped off of its face and body until all that was left was white bone, standing in a pool of sizzling flesh.

I tried to scream but I couldn't; my voice was trapped, stuck in my throat, held by the all too familiar hand of fear. Its eyes popped and its body convulsed as it grew another layer of skin. I gagged at the sight. As if nailed to the ground, I watched my reflection turn into myself again, this time with red and black eyes and protruding black veins. But she wasn't me.

My breathing quickened as she slowly looked up at me. I stared at her, unblinking and Veronica stared back.

I turned my head to the left. She copied.

I moved my head back to the right. She did the same.

I stayed still.

One second...

Two...

Three...

She pounced out of the mirror with a deafening scream. Arms stretched, ready to kill.

I shot out of bed.

A buzzer.