It’s a large rusty metal chair sitting in the middle of the abandoned warehouse on top of The Academy. The roof above is almost non-existent and filled with holes, while the walls around also offer no protection from the weather or anything outside.
Rain is pelting down on the chair as my wrists are placed to the manacles stuck to the armrests, my ankles following suit to the legs of the chair. I’m completely helpless to the punishment, and for the first time, I invite it. I crave it. Something is wrong with me, and I know punishment is what I need.
“PX-3, you are charged with failure to obey and wilful negligence. How do you plead?” one of the guards asks, the sound muffled beneath his mask.
“Guilty,” I respond, and instantly the guard pierces a blade through my hand.
Holding back the cry that’s so desperate for release, I bite my lip. My eyes well with tears before I blink them away. Do not break. Do not break. Do not break.
“Make sure she learns her lesson.” I hear the Overseer call as another guard cuts into my good arm, the top of the skin now pooling with blood.
The next cut is down my shirt, exposing more skin as they take turns slicing my skin, blood staining my skin and shirt. The pain is so unbearable, a scream gets trapped in my throat. I’m crying, I’m sure of it, but the rain disguises my tears. Thank the gods for that small mercy.
I managed to last five more cuts before passing out from the pain.
?
Water drops down from the ceiling to my bleeding forehead, my vision blurred by the watered-down blood in my eyes. Drip, drip, drip. My breath is short and laboured as I fight the pain and blood loss to stay alive.
The guards left an hour ago, leaving me to my misery. The rain stopped about an hour ago, and the night sky now fills the broken roof. I find peace in the stars that glitter above me. It’s the only time I’m able to see them other than on missions. They’re beautiful.
I never understood why we aren’t allowed out of The Academy. They say it’s to protect us, but can’t we protect ourselves, considering everything they have trained us to handle?
“PX-3,” a muffled voice calls. I force myself to look at them, barely able to see a thing through the blood in my eyes. I wish I could see it, I’m sure it looks cool. Maybe I’ll try this with my next target, killing them slowly instead of efficiently.
“Hmmm?”
“Have you learned your lesson?”
I hope so. I really hope so. Battling the blood loss and the pain running through my cut-up body, I can’t manage the words to say yes. So far, I’ve counted thirty-two gashes along my body in every place, each cut burning and stinging. Some small pricks, then some bigger ones that will need stitches. I hate stitches.
“Mhmmm,” I groan, barely able to keep my head upright anymore. I don’t even know if my eyes are open anymore. It feels like they might be, but it’s so dark and I can’t see anything.
When the heavy footsteps approach, I know the Commander is here to interrogate me. The Overseer doesn’t work when the sky goes dark, which leaves the Commander in charge of my punishment. Only it’s not Wolvrin’s voice I hear when they do speak.
“PX-3. You pleaded guilty to your charges, you knew what you were doing was wrong.”
Someone get this guy a medal.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t let you bleed out.”
God, I hate this part. “Because you need me,” I manage to force out, although the words are slightly slurred. I estimate I have about four more minutes left before passing out from the blood loss entirely, so this better hurry up.
“You are replaceable,” the Overseer says, and I snort involuntarily, finding the last of my energy to respond.
“There’s no one more useful to you than me; it would take you years to train someone to be even remotely like me. But they will never be me.”
My answer must satisfy him since two guards rush to my side and undo the manacles binding me to the seat. When they try to get me to stand, I collapse, only held up at the last second as they hold their grip on my arms.
“Welcome back, PX-3. Get her to the doctor.”
The last thing I remember before passing out again is the cranking of the elevator going down. The comforting darkness takes its hold as my body finally gives out to the torture.
?
The incessant beeping from a monitor behind me rouses me from sleep. I blink my eyes open to the warm lights of the healing sector. Every inch of my body aches, the reminder of what happened while in the chair.
My vision is still blurred, and I can’t tell if it’s permanent damage or just exhaustion.
