Dark: Chapter 2

I wake up lying in a pool of my own sweat, the image of those yellow eyes staring at me still fresh in my mind. It was just a dream. “a memory”, a quiet voice in my head says. No, I think, it was just a dream. I need to fight back from the sadness and the anger at the world that the memory- no, the dream- produces. Just a dream. Just a dream. I am not just saying it in my head now.

“Just a dream.”, like a rhythmic chant that I cling to like a lifeline, even though I know that it is very childish of me to be saying it out loud.

Anyways, this phrase isn't even true. I stop chanting. That ‘dream’ was not just a dream, it was an apparition of long ago.

My head is pounding almost as fast as my heart. I can feel the pain now. I touch my head, and I feel a large bump on it. I look around at my surroundings. I am in a small white room, on a white bed with white sheets. I am wearing a paper-thin white gown. There are no windows and a white door in the very corner. Everything is so white, even the light above me is colored brightly. I close my eyes, but the imprint of the room stays in my vision, increasing my migraine.

“Where am I?” I groan.

“Safety” I kinda jump, not expecting an answer. 

Nothings safe anymore, I know that. I open my eyes again and try to sit up, only to discover that my arms, legs, torso, and neck are all shackled to the table.

 “Where am I, who are you, and why am I tied up?!” My voice is raised now, and it is apparent that I am freaking out.

“I told you, safety. As for the other questions, I am not permitted to tell you.” I look around as best I can, my eyes still adjusting to all the light, to get a more detailed view of my surroundings. I gasp when I see who is talking. 

“Abe?” There is my brother, with his brown curly hair, freckled cheeks, and skinny frame, standing beside my bed like it isn't his captured sister right in front of him, like this isn't the middle of an apocalypse, as if he isn't wearing a… military uniform?

Why didn't I recognize his voice right away? Something is missing, I just can't place it. I look into my brother's eyes, and with horror, realize what it is. My big brother, the one who protectively stepped in front of me when I first saw one of the creatures, the one who listens attentively when I talk, talk, and talk at dinner about the squirrel I saw and the berries I found, now has lost the color in his eyes, which went from Hazel to… Gray? “Abe?” I ask again. My brother just looks at me, confused, but he keeps his mouth shut. He seems mildly uncomfortable, and maybe a bit confused, but there is no recognition or brotherly protection or explanation about any of this on his face, in his blank gray eyes… A black and white man walks into the room. I look at him, keeping Abe in the corner of my eye. His skin pale as snow, and his clothes black as night, there is no gray on this man’s body. He is nothing but a sharpbut sharp contrast in human form. He stares back at me with a look that is blank, in the sense that the one emotion shown on it doesn't seem to ever change. He speaks, his voice gravely and rough.

“Tom, you may leave.” My brother, responding to another name, walks out the room. I am almost too dazed to respond, but as Abe steps out of the room, I snap back into reality.

“Abe!” I shout frantically. “Abe! No! Stop it! Come back here! What are you-” He’s gone. I direct my gaze to the man next to me.

“Charlie, how nice to see you. I take it you are doing well?”

His voice is deep and gravelly, and I can't hear a single hint of sarcasm, or friendliness, or anger even in it. For some reason, this impression scares me more than the rest of him. I shudder in my restraints. How does he even know my name?

“What did you do with Abe?” I try to sound defiant, but my voice comes out squeaky and scared.

I look away from the man's eyes; they make me feel like I am 12 again, hiding behind my older brother from the beast in front of me, so innocent until that moment when I saw him taken away by the government a week later. I remember sitting at the kitchen table when my mother explained to me how Abe had been associating with rebels against the government. My mind flashed to all the times Abe spent in his room ‘talking to friends’. I didn't know much about politics at the time and still don't really, but I knew that rebels were violent mobbers that hated our current government. I didn't really have a view as to whether they were good, or bad, or both at the time because I knew almost nothing about our government in the first place, and the fact that my gentle and strong brother was one of them made me suspect that they weren't as bad as the news said. Thinking about my brother makes me hopelessly sad, and I have to fight to keep tears from my eyes. 

“Ah, you know, the usual. We took him here, and spent some  time… extracting.. vital information we needed from him. Then, we wiped his mind of the whole ordeal. Think about it Charlie, all the pain and suffering, all things that poor boy ever witnessed, gone. It was a mercy, really. Then, we retrained him. Did you know how highly suggestible people are when they are confused?? They are like clay, you can shape them any way you want. You could change a killer into a servant, or more specifically, a rebel into a soldier. Your dear brother is one of ours now. And, I'm sure you’ll be very pleased to know that he is in our special unit. I even named him after me- Thomas. Maybe you could get to the top ranks someday too, if you try hard. I would love to have you as my star student.” I pull against my restraints, fighting the intense pain to get at this man. “Yes, yes, I know. So cliche. Already thought of a million times by book authors and movie scripters. The thing is though, there has never before been a real way to use this cliche idea. In fact, it is so obvious that it is overlooked. Too easy, too simple, impossible and complicated. To everything for everybody, but for me. 

“What did you do to him?” My voice wavered as I screamed.

I couldn’t keep the tears from my eyes anymore, and now they weren't just from sadness. These tears were pain, loss, and most importantly, fury, coming from my insides, tearing from my gut. I wanted nothing but to kill that man at that moment. He had been so calm when he told me what he did, like he did it to millions of other people. I stopped screaming and pulling from my restraints, now paralyzed by fear by the horrific realization that had just come to mind. Like he could do to me. The tall man smiled, and called for a doctor who had walked in when I had started struggling. 

“42, Hook her up, it's time for her to go to memory lane” The prick on my arm came before I finished comprehending the message.

I wanted to jerk away as the doctor (with gray pupils, I realized), calmly pushed a white liquid into my arm, but the restraints stopped me. I started to get dizzy, and tried to fight against whatever the white stuff was.  But it was so hard. I felt like nothing mattered anymore, like I was nothing. Like there was nothing. As I slipped into nothingness, and as I felt my life slipping away alongside my consciousness, I thought I could hear the giggling of what seemed like children in the background like they were having fun, then the man leaned forward, still smiling, and closed my eyelids for me.