Chapter 26: Broken
I woke up with a start.
My upper body jerked upright, dragging the rest of me along in a disorderly movement, until my forehead hit a ceiling that was much too close.
*BAM.*
My vision blurred. A groan escaped my lips.
I tried to catch myself, to hold my body back before it fell, but my hands refused to obey. They were there. I could feel them. Yet they remained inert, as if they no longer belonged to me.
"Ouch..."
__________________________________________________________________
Contrary to what I thought, they hadn't taken me back to the cage.
Instead, I found myself locked in a ridiculously small cell. It was too short for me to lie down and too low for me to sit properly. It was like a vertical coffin, designed to hold a body, not a person.
The walls seemed to be made of bricks covered with a smooth, almost shiny white coating. A single light bulb hung in the center of the ceiling, too close to my face. Its light never flickered. It burned my eyes even when I closed them.
They weren't trying to see me die. I was sure of that.
Regularly, through a small hatch that opened above my head, two sharp knocks broke the silence of the place.
The first time, I responded in panic, screaming and begging, but he didn't answer.
He never spoke. Each time, he began by knocking twice on the hatch. The first time it happened, I responded in panic, but even then he didn't say a word to me.
No sooner had I let out a sound than the trapdoor opened and, in a mechanical gesture, a hand slid a container inside, just big enough to fit through, and made me swallow its contents.
The food was lukewarm. Thick. Tasteless. A porridge that stuck to my tongue and the back of my throat.
A gloved hand followed immediately, covering my mouth if I slowed down or resisted. If I tried to spit it out, the pressure intensified, as if he were trying to crush my skull.
So I swallowed.
Once I did, the trapdoor closed. The footsteps receded. Toward another coffin.
That meant one thing.
My life had some value to them.
At least enough to check on me regularly and feed me.
But the worst thing was the walls, the same clinical white as the experiment room, the mere sight of which was enough to make my stomach churn.
I tried to keep track of time.
Meals. My heartbeats. Moments of sleep.
I failed.
What seemed like weeks may have amounted to only fifteen meals before, finally, the door opened fully.
For what seemed like weeks, I had stayed in that place for about fifteen meals before the door opened completely.
The light changed.
Not abruptly. Not enough to warn me. Just an almost imperceptible variation, as if the white walls had decided to breathe differently.
I tried to move.
Nothing.
My legs refused to respond. My arms trembled without being able to lift themselves. Even my neck struggled to support the weight of my head. I was conscious, terribly conscious, but my body still seemed to be elsewhere. Stuck. As if someone had forgotten to give me back the use of my nerves.
A figure leaned over me.
All I could see was a light-colored uniform, gloves, and an expressionless mask. No eyes. Or rather, no visible eyes.
"Stand up."
The voice was neutral. No anger, no contempt. Just an order.
I didn't respond. Not out of defiance. Out of inability.
Something grabbed me under the arms.
My body was roughly pulled out of the coffin. My feet hit the ground and immediately gave way. My knees buckled with a dull crack and a dull pain shot through my hips.
I stifled a cry.
They didn't stop.
Two hands held me up, preventing me from collapsing completely, but never really supporting me. Just enough to keep me standing. Just enough to make me feel every second.
My muscles trembled like those of a newborn animal.
I was pushed forward.
The hallway was long. Too long. White. Always white. The walls reflected the light like poorly polished mirrors, forcing me to squint. Every step was a negotiation. Move forward, or fall.
I dragged my feet.
My breathing was chaotic. My heart was beating too fast, as if it were trying to escape before the rest of my body.
At the end of the hallway stood a huge door.
It opened with a low hiss.
The room was... vast.
Immense, even.
A high ceiling, supported by metal structures. Spotlights arranged in a circle cast a cold light that flattened any sense of depth. The floor was smooth, marked by engraved lines, like a playing field... or an arena.
And I wasn't alone.
__________________________________________________________
~Erine Orlan~
"Nil..." I sighed my brother's name in yet another sigh.
After being separated in the cage, I couldn't think of anything else but him.
Had he also gone through the infusion? Was he okay?
From time to time, I thought back to the friends we had made in our misfortune, and I worried about them too, but Nil was by far the most important.
This place wasn't so different from the cage. Although it was cleaner, the room gave off the same impression, a heavy atmosphere of fear and fragility.
The survivors were still here, gathered in small groups. Some sat against the walls. Others stood motionless. Silhouettes of all ages. Some wore bandages. Others stared into space, their eyes vacant. A few trembled openly.
The door to the huge room opened loudly.
A vibration caught my attention and I focused on its source, the entrance to the room, which opened to let in a small body supported by two guards.
For a moment, I thought, I hoped it was my brother, but disappointment hit me like a cold blast of wind. However, that feeling also disappeared as this person's features became clearer.
He looked thinner than the last time I had seen him, his long brown hair was tousled, and dried blood and other fluids were visible on his clothes and skin.
His eyes were empty and dark despite their amber irises, surrounded by large circles and swollen eyelids that gave him an undead appearance, accentuated by dry, cracked lips that left a small space from which a dry, wheezing breath escaped.
He seemed barely able to stand, and when the guard let go of him, he staggered.
His body gave way almost immediately, his knees hitting the floor with a thud. A muffled, nervous murmur ran through the room. No one really moved.
I did.
My feet started moving before I made a conscious decision. Each step seemed too loud, too visible. As if I were doing something forbidden.
I stopped a few feet away from him.
Up close, it was worse.
His gaze wasn't empty. It was... elsewhere. Fixed on something I couldn't see. His fingers trembled against the floor, leaving thin red marks on the white surface.
I swallowed.
"Abel...?"
The name came out lower than I would have liked.
He didn't react right away.
Then, slowly, too slowly, his head lifted. His amber eyes rested on me without really seeing me. They looked right through me. As if they were searching for something else behind my face.
I recoiled involuntarily.
His lips parted slightly.
"Erine?"
My chest tightened.
He had recognized me.
But there was no joy in his voice. No relief. Just a mechanical confirmation, as if I were nothing more than a piece of information he had validated.
I crouched down despite myself.
"Are you... okay?"
Silly question. I knew that, but... it was all I could think of.
A heavy silence fell. Around us, the others watched. Some with curiosity. Others with poorly concealed fear. I felt as if the whole room was holding its breath.
Abel blinked.
"I... I think so."
He slowly raised a hand to his head, as if the simple gesture required immense effort.
"My body... doesn't always obey me."
I reached out my hand. Then I stopped.
I didn't know if I had the right to touch him. I didn't know if I wanted to touch him.
"Nil is still not here," I whispered unconsciously, imagining my brother in the same state as him.
His fingers tensed.
One beat. Then another.
"Okay."
A single word spoken calmly. Too controlled for a child his age.
A shiver ran through me.
Before I could say anything else, a female voice rang out in the room. Amplified. Clear.
"Congratulations to the fifty subjects in this room for making it this far." His tone was simple, even polite. "The first stages must have been tough, so rest here for a few days until the first test."
I looked up.
Behind the tinted glass, silhouettes moved slowly.
"Take this opportunity to regain your strength," the voice continued. "Please do your best."
Our best...
I looked back at Abel.
He was staring at the floor again. Like a flesh-and-blood puppet lying on the ground.