Page 13 of Killer (Project)

Maybe that’s what I did—made him remember.

“Yes, sir. I will let him know.” That was the last voice I would hear for hours. No one would come to check on me or make sure I was still breathing. I would lie in that bed until whatever it was they had shot me up with wore off.

Eventually, I did. My toes wiggled, which led to the feelings in my legs coming to life. As I progressed, I attempted to stand, only to fall back on the bed at a strange angle. My body ached in a strange way as the drugs continued to wear off.

“Help.” I tried to say, but nothing escaped my lips. My mouth felt as if it were filled to the top with cotton not allowing a sound to escape.

Without a way to move, and no voice to call for help, I used my legs to roll myself over onto my side. It was there I fell into a fitful sleep praying I could bring myself to be the one thing that could save Killer.

seven

killer

My fists continuedto beat against the punching bag. The sound of skin breaking filled the air. Blood seeped from open wounds on my knuckles, but I felt no pain. There were no feelings of hurt. Just gleefulness filling my blood with a high unlike any other.

Was it my fault that woman almost died? I had almost blown the cover of my people. I had almost lost us the power of freedom—and for what? For anger issues, for hate toward some little bitch.

I heaved a breath into my lungs and then another. My fists pounded into the bag harder, each hit fueling the fire inside of me. My muscles burned for a break. Memories invaded my mind.

“Thank you, Diesel.”

FUCK!! I stepped away from the punching bag, grasping the hair at my scalp painfully.

Who was Diesel?

She wore a red dress today. Her hair was in soft curls, and her body reminded me of a dancer’s.

“Stop!” I cried out. I didn’t want the memories anymore. I didn’t care about who I was in the past or what meant something to me or not. I didn’t know that person. I wasn’t that person anymore. Those memories shouldn’t have meant anything to me because I wasn’t him.

“Killer,” Gauge called my name, but I couldn’t bear to listen to him. He believed in me. He thought my life would be easier if I embraced the memories. He was wrong.

“Killer. Listen to me.” He tried to reach out to me again, but his efforts were worthless. I felt like I was drowning in water at the bottom of a pool. His voice was muffled, and as I looked up at him, all I saw was a blurry image. With fists clenched, I squeezed my head, pounding on the sides of it to knock some sense into myself. This had to stop. I was going crazy.

“When I see your pain and you hurt, it makes me want to try. It makes me want to live to see another day. You’re my reason to breathe.”

“NO!” I bellowed out again. She wasn’t my reason to breathe—she was nothing. Whoever she was, she was nothing.

“Killer, stop, or I’m going to have to give you some L1.” The mere comment of a drug once used on me pulled me from my mind. How dare he use a drug on me that was supposed to be banned.

“L1, really? You would use the one weapon they used on us all the time. You know what it was like to be in that facility, Gauge. To have your memories wiped. To have been given a number instead of a name. All I knew was that I had cancer, I died, and now I’m here. How could you threaten me with that?” I screamed. I was losing my shit. I was completely lost and for what reason? I had no answers, no one to turn to. Even if I could turn to someone, the very people who knew the answers I wanted to know would do anything they could to keep it under lock and key.

“Calm down. Deep breaths dude,” Gauge said calmly. I listened to his voice, forcing each breath into my chest slowly.

Hitting the floor with a thud, I crawled into a ball. I couldn’t see myself as a man at this moment. I wasn’t acting like a man. I was broken, fractured straight down the middle.

“Someone get the stretcher. I think he’s going into remission.” I could hear Gauge yelling for help, but my eyes glazed over. My veins felt like they were filling with steel, like I was capable of any and all destruction.

Pain. Hate. Anger. Rage.

“Hurry, he’s fading fast…” Gauge’s voice was still there, but underneath it all, was something else. A tiny spark in the back of my mind. I held the match to ignite it, and I wanted it to catch on fire. I wanted to destroy. Set my memories ablaze and never have them again.

“We’re losing him…”

Oh, they didn’t have a fucking clue. Losing me would have meant they would’ve had to have actually had me at one point in time. We all knew that wasn’t true.

“Get the gun ready,” a man said above me. He was big, but I was bigger. I could snap his neck. I could take him out of his pathetic misery. A smile formed on my lips. They had no idea the monster that was about to be unleashed on them.

I felt the prick of a needle entering my arm but didn’t care. There was nothing they could do once the Killer came out to play.