“I’m in pain, my body hurts and I’m hungry.”
“Yes well, unfortunately your case is more severe, so we do have to take extreme precautions. I do have some food and water here, but I can only give it to you if you give me some answers honestly. Can you do that for me PX-3?” I nod, having nothing left to lose.
“Very good, let’s start with an easy one. What is your name?”
“PX-3.”
“See, that’s not so hard, is it?” Doctor Langdon smiles as he hands me a bottle of water, and for a split second, I forget all my pain, sitting up like my life depends on it. When my body catches up to my mind, every muscle and bone aches in protest.
I take the bottle, immediately finishing it and hoping for more. If these are the questions, I will be fine for weeks before I need to speak again. If I get enough water and ration it correctly, I can survive.
“What is your relationship with Cayden Ashford?”
“He was my target, but I saw him as a friend.”
“A friend who betrayed you, no?” Slitting the throat option just got moved to the top of the list. Even if it gets me killed, I want to be the one to kill this asshole.
“Yes,” I manage through gritted teeth, not mentioning that we were more than friends, that he was teaching me things The Academy would never allow. That he taught me what it felt like to feel safe, comfortable, even if that’s all gone now.
Doctor Langdon hands me a sandwich this time for my honesty, and I eat it as quickly as I can. I’m more afraid it will be taken away than anything else in this moment.
“Did you meet anyone else while on your missions with Mr Ashford?”
I shake my head, finishing the last bite and wiping my mouth. “No, it was only ever him and his guards. But I never met them; I don’t know any names or anything.” I say it with such conviction I even convince myself, considering my desperation.
“What about family? Do you know of any family?” This is a test question, if they know Cayden they know he has a sister. They may not be able to find his accomplice, but siblings are easy to track. One search of his family, and all details would be there.
“He mentioned a sister, but he told me she passed during the transition from before to now. He’s still quite upset about it.”
Doctor Langdon nods, handing me another water bottle and another sandwich. I drink it without thinking as he stares at me, amused. “Desperation is a beautiful thing, sweet child. But I asked for honesty, and you lied.”
Before I can process what he’s saying, I start to feel ill, my stomach protesting everything it’s just received as Doctor Langdon places a bucket in front of me.
“And until you’re honest, you won’t get anything else. The medication should wear off in an hour. Until then, try to keep it in the bucket.”
I grasp on to the plastic like it’s a lifeline as I feel the nausea in my stomach, the bile raising in my throat. I look up at Doctor Langdon, not bothering to hide how awful I feel. He knows, he did this on purpose. He wants to empty my stomach and make me desperate again.
“Why me? What did I do to deserve this?”
“Oh, sweet child, that boy corrupted you. We saved you, but don’t worry. We will correct that in your re-education.”
?
Another week passes where I’m left to waste away. The room has a horrid stench of vomit from the bucket they haven’t bothered to remove, only serving to make me feel nauseous all over again.
I’ve spent four weeks in this hell, I think. It’s hard to keep track correctly when I can’t see anything from outside. They didn’t come to get me yesterday, I think I finally earned a day off. My body has been beaten and broken to a point I’m not even sure it works anymore.
I haven’t spoken in a week. My chest hurts too much to try; I’m sure my ribs haven’t healed properly, and it’s only making everything worse.
I have been drowned, electrocuted, starved, deprived, beaten, stabbed, choked. Every horrible possible thing you could imagine, yet I’m still alive. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold on. My dress is now in shreds, the fabric bringing me barely any warmth, barely covering anything but my breasts and below the waist. There’s a large circle cut in the middle of the dress on my stomach where they cut me over and over, thick bandages covering the butchered skin.
I did earn the right to a blanket at the end of my second week, and I earned the white jumpsuit three days ago, but I still haven’t put it on. I can’t. It hurts to breathe, let alone move to change out of clothes, only to put on new clothes.
My lips are cracked. I need water desperately, more than the small amounts they give me.
Cayden promised I wouldn’t get hurt again, yet here I am, and he hasn’t come to rescue me this time. I wonder if he even knows I’m missing; he must with his sources in The Academy.
Even if he did, I doubt he would be able to find me. I doubt he’s looking.
