Broken Pieces Of Reality

A quiet whimper escapes her lips and she takes a step backwards, away from him. She can feel the cold steel of the morgue table as it presses into her back. It's uncomfortable and unforgiving and she wants nothing more than to escape the nightmare this day has become and wake up in the warmth of her bed. She knows however that this is not something that she can simply break free from.

This is life. This is happening.

She scrambles harder against the table in her attempt to get away from the man in front of her. He merely watches her with an expressionless face and eyes of cold steel that match the blade in his hand. He takes another step towards her, easily closing the distance between them.

Clinging to the cold of the morgue table, she follows it along it's length without taking her eyes from his. The end of the bench catches her off-guard; she stumbles and then breaks her gaze to run now that there's nothing in her way.

She makes it to the door. Chancing a look back at him, another jolt of fear stabs her when he's looking straight at her. He can see right through her and he's doing nothing but standing there.

Her feet pound the floor.

A tear escapes and trickles down her left cheek. She had thought she could trust him. She had been wrong. She had believed in him. She had done everything in her power to save him.

Something must have gone wrong.

His programming must be off. Maybe he has just cracked after so many 'treatments'.

Maybe they did this to him.

She cries out again as a second set of footsteps joins hers, growing louder with every second. Her mind is paralyzed.

The next few minutes pass in a blur of walls passing by and Alpha's blank face and the sting of his blade. She sees red, the flash of a ironic smile and then nothing. She only passes out for a few minutes, but when she regains consciousness he is gone.


Later, she stands in front of a mirror, eyes downcast. She cannot find it in herself to look at what she has become. Physically, she knows she will never be the same again and she doesn't want to see the reminder of that reflected in the glass.

What scares her more is how it will psychologically affect her. She can already feel the edge of change pressing into her and working it's way under her skin, just like the blade slid over her face and marked her.

She closes off her heart, sighs and steering clear of her reflection, heads back out to join the others.