Whispers in the Dark
All in all, I think I’ve had an okay life. Some people starve, some people freeze, some people have to watch their bodies fail them due to one disease or another. I’ve never suffered any of those things. I guess wanting to die anyway makes you think on life and its value in the scheme of things.
I’ve been kept in this room most of my life, since I began hearing voices. Then came the tests and exercises, the rewards and mostly, the punishments. I’m being trained for a purpose I have yet to determine myself. As I grew older, so did my powers, and they had to learn to be careful when in my presence. I admit I came to find a dark satisfaction at revealing other people’s secrets to those who were concerned. It’s the only control I’ve ever known, to be able to explore the minds of others, and see what really lay beneath the surface. Someone came to see me by mistake, someone who wasn’t prepared to guard his mind as well as the others. I was able to see a glimpse of my file:
SUBJECT MA10; “EMMA”
28 years old
Randomly generated name: “Emma”
Mother: Walsh, Abigail
Experimental enhancement used: M9 and A1 mixture
Subject has demonstrated multiple psychic talents from infancy.
Most potent: telepathy and mind control.
More pliable as a child, but developed resistance to aid the cause as her talents progressed.
Only practised assets fully able to control inner thoughts are allowed in her vicinity.
Subject was confined to a room in a hidden location to further develop her abilities and preserve her anonymity.
Efforts to have her join the cause are ongoing.
So I am warm, I am fed, I am healthy. But I am not free, and soon I will be forced in some sort of war against my own kind. They tried to convince me of the truth and value of their mission, but I have always known better. What they think is right is twisted by their fear of losing control. They tell me I’m important, invaluable, talented, but I know they are repulsed by what I am, what I represent.
They decided to fight fire with fire, by kidnapping gifted people and breeding more to raise them to serve the cause. My mother was one of them. I saw her face once in one of their minds. I wish I hadn’t. She wasn’t bred here like me, she was snatched on the street. Taken from her family and friends, and robbed of her life. Doomed to be used and abused over and over in the name of the greater good. I saw all the despair and pain in her eyes. I’m not sure how she died, but I know she is gone.
That’s why I’ve decided to check out. Escaping doesn’t seem to be an option, and I won’t be a part of their organization. I won’t let them use me the way they used my mother.