The Supremacy (12 page)

Faith.
 

Chapter
Thirteen
I woke in a dark room. I was alone. I heard the chains rattling before I felt them constrict around my limbs like a serpent’s hold. My head pounded as I tried to hold my grip on consciousness. I could hear the blood pulsing through my ears, deafening me to everything save for the realization that I was still alive when I should have been dead.
I felt strong cold hands clutching my arm, followed by the pinch of a needle. The pain was muted by that of the iron-tight shackles that held me still.
Shutting out the physical pain, I retreated into my mind. I knew Faith was surely dead. Her small body strapped to a cold and unforgiving metal table, impaled and drained the same way the boy had been. She would be paralyzed, but far from numb.
I could see her, terrified and alone, watching helplessly as the ruthless Keepers worked over her body, harvesting her, processing her as they would a worthless piece of meat, because that is what we were-- humans were nothing more than food to fill a Supreme’s belly.
My chains left me with little room to play before they dug deeper into my flesh. The frigid cement floor of my cell held no comfort for me either, but why should it. I was nothing more than an animal awaiting her slaughter.
Entirely alone, I curled my bloodstained body into the corner of the cell, pulled my legs close to my chest and sobbed. Almost everyone that I loved was dead.
Cold and alone, I allowed myself to grieve. But more than that, I allowed myself to
dream
. If nothing more than to keep my mind alive. To dream of a day and time where I would be free to live, to fly. Such a dream was pure fantasy but one that was needed.
I dreamed of Trent growing up in a time where he would be free to learn and explore. Free to laugh and love. I saw him clear as day running around a pristine meadow. Saw him growing into a man that was not afraid of the government that ruled over him.
But he too would be where I was, bound and bloodied, waiting for a Keeper to take him.
I curled deeper into the cinderblock wall, knowing that a swift death by a Keeper’s hand would have been a grand release.
***
The numbness followed. All dreams ceased as a hollow pit consumed my waking hours. It was a welcomed site. One that held its own freedoms.
I had no timeline for my torture. To me, it was never ending. Time did not exist in the darkness.
My body was at war with itself and I was left unsure of what was real and what was fiction. At any other time, I would have thought it all to be fake, too unfathomable to possibly be real. I was most afraid of what I knew was inevitable, before my body would go, my mind would. I would lose that battle long before my body would give in. I could
feel
it beginning. I could feel my mind rejecting reality. It was pulling away, trying desperately to find an escape from the tormenting realization that was life; pain, loss, there was nothing to save me from it. Human minds are wired to bury what they cannot handle. To find an escape, a reprieve, at all costs. Humans are wired to
survive
until there is nothing left to hold on to. But for me, everything was already lost.
I looked down at my commoner’s uniform, garbs used as a constant reminder of what we were to The Supremacy, worthless, a blank canvas for them to use as they saw fit. Our only contribution to the society they created being to serve. We owned nothing, not our clothes, our homes, our lives, and most certainly not our own bodies. It was a uniform used to remind us how worthless we were. It now lay heavy and limp on my tired limbs- once white, now blackened and bloodied.
Sleep was my only savior, my mind too exhausted from basic survival to conjure up a new nightmare for me to endure.
I slept and woke alone, never knowing how long I was unconscious, never knowing how long I was awake. I had passed the point of hunger. Starvation meant nothing to me. Thirst meant little. The end would soon find me, save me. At least that was what I hoped for. If they intended to use me as sustenance, I would be useless dead. My meat tainted by decay.
Sleep then wake. I could
feel
the never-ending pull that was death. Just out of reach, taunting me.
I cared not when the faint footfalls sounded from somewhere not so far off. I did not flinch nor did I make a sound or open my eyes when the creak of a metal door echoed through my small enclosure.
I could smell the food that was placed beside my head but it did not make my mouth salivate. I no longer craved the nutrients that it promised. My stomach began to heave, rejecting the intrusion as the aroma gripped my senses.
“If you refuse to eat you will die.” Declan’s voice came in a slow cadence, urging me to obey.
Upon opening my eyes, I saw what I could not see before. Eight trays glinted in the dim light that filtered from the door’s opening. All eight still held food.
“
Why?”
My voice cracked, raw from lack of moisture. The voice was foreign to me. Left unutilized for so long I did not even recognize it as my own. I had not heard it in days, maybe weeks-- I did not know.
“You were intent on dying.” The contempt in his voice was evident, “Still seem to be.” His arms waved over the untouched trays of food and water. “I need you
alive
.”
“
Why
?” Too tired to say more, I laid my head back down on my blackened knees.
Declan knelt beside my face and spoke softly, “This is necessary.” His eyes pleaded with me, “Trust me.”
“
Never
.”
Without another word, the door shut, taking away the little light it gifted. The first sign of light I had seen in-- I didn’t know. Artificial or from the sun I was not sure, either way I craved it.
Declan did not return, or if he did I was unaware. My tray left untouched, I fell back to sleep, to the dark unconsciousness I had begun to know well, to treasure like no other.
When I woke, it was to a blinding light that was near painful. Streaming in from the ceiling was the brilliant light of the sun beating down on me. I could feel my starved body as it soaked up the rays that it had been denied for so long.
Moving my hand to shield my eyes, I realized that my chains were gone too, replaced by thick bandages. What remained unmistakable was the blood that still found its way to the surface, lightly staining the beige cloth my arms and ankles were swathed in.
I could stand.
On wobbly, weak limbs, I tried and failed. My body unable to hold any weight--depleted of all its nutrients-- starved by my own hands as I wished for death, but death was not coming, not yet.
I drank from the water only to have my stomach reject it time and time again.
The door to my cell swung open once I brought a piece of bread to my lips.
“After you eat.” Declan smiled down at me, “You will be free to roam about.”
“What is the point?” I croaked out, dropping the bread to the tray.
“Trust is something that seems impossible for me to gain. But you will, sooner or later.”
“I should trust you.” I managed a weak chuckle, “As you have me bound and bloodied in a cell.”
“I needed you safe!” His jaw clenched tight and then released. “Everything else you endured here was by your own hands.”
He swiftly turned from me and left. But the door remained open.
I knew the only thing I wanted to do was get clean. It had been weeks since I had the luxury of a bath. I could
feel
the filth that coated my skin. The smell of death and decay that permeated my nose had kept me in a constant state of nausea.
My body too weak to stand, I crawled on hands and knees toward the cell door. Once I reached the opening, I was stunned to see that I had not been in a cell inside of the Farm, but in a home. The long narrow hallway that lay out in front of me was one that could have only been built for a king… or a Keeper. Dark hardwood floors ran beneath my bloodstained palms, meeting only with the large expanse of what could have only been someone’s stunning living room. I could hear the clinking of glass but what it could mean meant nothing to me, I wanted to get clean.
I continued down the hall, reaching for the first knob I found. I turned and was nearly thrown backwards at the site of the washroom. A simple space, meant only to get clean, was the size of a commoner’s assigned apartment. Sparkling tiled floors that warmed under your feet as you stepped led into a pure white bath that could have held ten easily. Skylights in the ceiling filtered natural light down over the room, making it feel warm against the stark white environment.
Avoiding the mirror, afraid of what I would see, I kept my eyes on the bath that promised cleanness. I removed my bloodstained, tattered, and useless uniform, allowing it to puddle around my feet. It was useless now-- Symbolic to how I felt.
The dials on the bath had me reeling, all touch pads and screens laid out strategically around the porcelain walls for each occupant to easily select their own perfect temperature. I didn’t think any degree of water could have gotten me clean. I felt broken, in a state of disrepair. The dirt that covered my skin felt like a permanent stain, going far deeper than just the surface. My mind would never be clear again, my soul could never wash clean. There wasn’t a cure for the visions of hundreds suffering, starving, dying that I could take. Those haunting visions were now a part of me, never to be forgotten.
Dialing the water temperature as high as my body could stand, I relaxed into the tub, scrubbing my sensitive skin until it turned red under the friction. By the time I finished, my skin burned, and the once clear water was blackened from my filth. Unplugging the drain, I watched the soiled water swirl and disappear down the pipe, only wishing I could do the same. I replaced the plug and programmed the shower to the same scalding temperature. I relaxed my back against the warm stone, soaking in the blistering water that hit my face, allowing the torrent of water to wash away whatever remained.
As I sat, the enormity of loss hit me. The pain my mind had blocked as I was held captive in the darkness overwhelmed me. No longer was I numb.
They took Faith.
Pain gripped my chest as I thought of her
“
No.
” I bit down on my arm, the mental pain too much to bear
. Not her, anyone but her.
The dam broke in that moment. Tears I had yet to shed for the best friend I watched die before my eyes. Tears for Faith, a completely innocent child taken away to become a by-product to be eaten. I had barely known her, but the hold she had over my heart was an unbreakable one.
The water was rising around me. The shower’s spray continued to pelt me in the face. I closed my eyes, blocking out the world around me. Unrelenting pain and guilt held me under. My body sunk peacefully to the bottom of the tub. I was drowning.
***
“
Erin
.” My name was hushed, the voice just out of reach as I hid in the safe recesses of my mind. A place that remained free from pain and misery, free from all memory. It was a dark, empty pit where I could remain numb.
“
Erin
.” My name flitted across the barren depths, “Wake up.”
I fought it, ran from the consciousness that held all the pain and ruins of my unbearable existence. Waking would only send a flood of emotions that would undoubtedly crush me in its wake.
“
Erin
.” Cold air brushed over my body, luring me to it like a Siren’s call, enticing me to an awakening I fought in vain to escape.
Glacial fingers tickled up my arm as the cold air grew stronger, “Erin,” My name hung in the air, “It’s time to wake up.” I was on the precipice of consciousness. No matter how hard I fought, the call pulled me into a light I never wanted to face again. Sleep was peace, absent of all emotion, absent of all pain. It was dark and remote; a place I never wanted to leave.
Ice burst through my veins and I heard my name yelled louder, “You will not die on my watch,” The intensity that rang in his voice was unmistakable. “So stop trying. You are safe with me.”
He was wrong. I would never be safe. Not while I was awake. My memories were my worst enemy.
Consciousness was the only thing more powerful and dangerous than the Keeper calling my name.
“
No
” I moaned when he called my name again.
I was still in that euphoric space in time where the memories that haunted your waking hours had yet to hit you. That moment of awakening where nothing mattered or made sense other than the fact that you were no longer at peace in a world your mind had created. But that lapse in time never lasted.
All too soon, the pain and torment hit me like an avalanche. Faith, John, the ten remaining Testers, the hundreds more held captive in their cells, their only way out being death.
Sobs racked my body as it all came into view before my eyes, “
Shh
.” He whispered close to me, “You are safe.”
“None of us are safe.” I cried, refusing to open my eyes.
“You are now.” Declan breathed close to my ear, his frigid fingers still caressing my arm, drawing me back to the present.
When my eyes were forced to open, the site of Declan’s shining smile greeted me. He was
smiling,
a genuine smile. Not one of malice or cruelty, but of Joy.
Why?
Tearing my eyes away from the one to blame for all the hurt that wreaked havoc inside of my core, I looked around me. We were in a room I had never seen before. It was warm, sumptuous and shockingly inviting. I was resting on a large leather sofa, draped in a down comforter that at any other time would have made me feel as if I were floating on a cloud, but not then. All I felt was a numbing tick, a time bomb of emotions just waiting in the wings to explode, taking me with it.