Test Subject 17

Her. That's all I can seem to think about now, is her. Her honey-colored eyes, soft black hair, and tanned skin. Her voice sounded like bells in a church. Melodieous and happy. But there's one thing I'll never forget. The fear that washed out everything when she saw who I really am...

"17!" Johnson calls. My head snaps up towards our "warden," as most of us call him, as my name is called. That's how we are identified. Test numbers, as if we're nothing more than dogs discarded at the pound. Unwanted and unloved.

Our numbers are designated when we get brought in and after being tested for things like strength, ability, and endurance. Whatever name we had before being brought here, we don't remember.

We know why though. At least the ones high enough on the chain of command do. We see kids being brought in with a full memory. They know their parents, relatives, home addresses, everything and after they come from questioning and testing, it's all gone.

A few like to believe that they tortured the kid so hard that the memories faded from their brain. It's actually become a joke around here, just something to laugh at. The way we older and more experienced kids pass the time.

The man looks at me. He has black hair with graying sideburns along with a couple of lines on his face that make him look like he's always scowling. He wears an all-black suit, very similar to the clothes we wear. The only difference is that his sleeves are longer and the colors are different. His eyes are an icy electric blue that can seem warm at times and others... just as hard and cold as I feel.

"Yes sir?" I glance around, looking at the others in their gray uniforms, just like mine. Even our hair is the same, depending on gender. Girls have their hair extremely short and straight. They're told to keep it either in a ponytail or as short as the guy's. Most opt for the ponytail.

The guys, like me, always have a buzz cut. The Superiors say it's so no one can grab a hold of our hair in combat, which I understand, but yeah right. Even the slightest bit can be grabbed if you know how. This is just another way to control us.

Everyone here is uniformed. From the people that watch over us, the soldiers that guard our doors, to the people they test on. However, there are a few rumors that if you get high enough or transfer, you can do whatever you like to your hair. Some are excited and try to do it, others don't give a shit.

I can feel the anxiety of being picked for the next contract washing over the people in the Assignment Room. It's basically a place where Warden gathers a particular group that is either certified or eligible for a kill, which is usually me.

"You're up. The file will be left in your cell." He looks away from me, walking to a table and taking out a manila envelope. I nod and the others relax, and they should. I've been on more assignments than they have, and the Superiors seem to be testing what all my ability can do.

It didn't seem very useful at first until I tried escaping several times using it. After that, the S's are always asking if I have any new developments in what I can do. I haven't told them everything, or they'd run more experiments on me and it sucks. They poke and prod at you, take so many blood samples it's like they're stocking up for a vampire or something, and don't get me started on the electro treatments.

"Dismissed." The kids file out one by one and I hear our shoes hitting the linoleum floor. It sounds like a mini army. The squad goes down different twists and turns of halls until we reach the cafeteria.

If you pay attention, some of these rooms have guards hanging outside of them, sworn to protect whatever is inside. Wonder if I can do that one day.

I like killing people, don't get me wrong. It's one of the best things ever. The rush of adrenaline as their life drains from their bodies and the light leaves their eyes. Or when I have to resort to my physical strength and I beat them to death with my bare fists.

Greatest feeling ever. But lately, it's been kind of boring. They do the same thing again and again and again. Run away, catch them, death. Over and over.

Just once, I would like to have something new happen.

~~

After I reach a white door to a room marked with a big 17 on it, I walk in and sit down on my bed, a manila envelope lying on the desk, perfectly placed in the middle.

I haven't felt anything since the day they found my ability. Before I knew fear, anger, pain. Now? Nothing. It's been years since I knew what it was like to panic and hurt or be afraid. I hated it. I felt like it made me weaker than everyone else. All I have is some stupid emotion ability. Everyone else has fire, electricity, creation, invisibility.

I know someone here who can make up to 3,000 copies of himself before getting drained. They all act and think just like him with an unlimited range. Another girl can mimic anyone she's seen and heard. All I do is control someone's feelings to match my own, or what I want them to. If I can touch them, I can more accurately know what they're feeling and the thoughts that go with the emotion.

Very useful in battle right? Honestly, I prefer stealth missions. I can make a whole room feel different things and there's this new development that if I focus enough, I can gather an emotion in the palm of my hand. It works with just about anything, anger, love, fear, trust. Each one has a different color too.

That's about the coolest thing I can do. And not for very long. I've been practicing when I'm out mostly because there are cameras everywhere in here. Not sure if they have audio, but no one dares find out. And really, this new thing still has a long way before I can use it.

Picking up the envelope, I open the flap and take out the person's file, looking it over. "Who do I murder next?" I mumble under my breath. The photo of the contract stares up at me.

Her warm smile, hazel-honey eyes, dark black hair. I feel like I've seen this girl somewhere, but I can't picture it. A smile spreads across my face and my chest starts to feel warm and fuzzy. I shake my head to remove the smile and feeling and start looking down at her information.

She lives alone, has two siblings who disappeared years ago, her parents are AWOL, and she also has an ability. Typical. Taking out the others like us so no one can rebel. She also had a friend years ago as well that was killed during a home invasion. He was found dead in the backyard.

Images flash in my head and I groan. A lady and man lying on a snow-white couch, blood pouring from holes in their brains. A little girl running for her life. Another man smiling down at me as he holds up a syringe. I hold my head in pain as the random pictures leave.

What the hell was that?! It feels like a layer of the fog in my brain has been lifted, only for the others to become denser.

I look at her file again, but it gives no specifics as usual. But there was one thing that stuck out. At the bottom of the page was writing in red ink: KILL AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. Interesting...wonder what's the rush.

Normally, I try not to think about my life before, but there's something about this girl that's tugging my brain. So close I can almost see it, but whatever it is, is so distant that it's stuck in the back of my mind. I push it away and scan for her schedule. She leaves work at eight, gets home twenty minutes later, and goes to sleep at around nine. Meaning I have a bit of time to get in, kill her, and get out. Sounds simple enough.

I look at the clock on the dreary gray wall. It's 8:05. I'm the only one with a clock as far as I know. The farther up in the rankings you are, the more perks you get. Which is their way of saying, the less they hound you for certain things.

Sighing, I lay down on the rock-hard mattress beneath me. It's supposed to make us uncomfortable enough to keep us alert 24/7. However, it doesn't bother me much to everyone's surprise.

The Superiors have tried everything to keep me like the others. Alone and alert. But that's the thing. They don't need to. The more my ability grows, the more everything fades. It's like I'm being turned into a killer robot. I'm alone enough as it is.

There's a knock at my door as Subject 13 enters. The sandy blonde boy looks at me and I motion him to walk further into the room. He does so and closes the door.

13 has a dusting of freckles over his nose and sea-green eyes with the same grey outfit I wear. A light grey tee with a darker shade of grey pants and black shoes. His lanky arms protrude from the sleeves of the shirt while his legs are concealed by the one-size-too-big pants.

"Warden is looking for you man. He sounds pretty pissed," 13 says. I groan. What could this jerk possibly want now? I haven't done anything in the past 7 years to be called.

"What the hell does he want now?" Sitting up, something washes over me and I knit my eyebrows. A faint and fuzzy memory of a little girl finds me. But she's different from the one before.

The girl has beach blonde curly hair, her skin is pretty pale and she has deep, dark brown eyes. Really pretty honestly. An emotion I've never felt sweeps over me.

"You alright? Normally you're all.. cold-hearted and stone-faced. Now you look... confused." I shake my head and stand to my six feet three inches. 13 takes a small step backward.

"It's nothing. Where is he?" 13 shrugs. A slight grin on his face. I'm surprised he's lasted this long. One thing that seldom escapes this place is a sense of humor. That's one of the first things they break.

"Dunno. He was storming about the cafeteria last I saw him."

"Alright. Thanks 13." He grins wider, patting my shoulder. I stare at his hand and he promptly removes it.

"You'd do the same right?" My stare is blank and cold. He looks back at me before catching on and walking out. I look back at the file spread across my bed and walk out after him.

I jog down a long blank hallway, to the cafeteria and sure enough, Johnson is scouring each and every table. He sees me enter and a sneer goes across his face.

"17! My office. Now." It's all eyes on me. Their faces scan mine, but all they see is the lack of emotion I feel. I know because I look in a mirror when I get the chance and I'm in a house. My face is always blank and uncaring. Even splattered in blood. Maybe that's why they send me so much. Because I won't have any emotional attachment to the people I kill.

Shaking the thoughts from my brain, I follow Warden down yet another bleak, gray hall. The floors are so clean you could probably drop food and still eat it. Hell, I can practically see my reflection from the floor. Almost. The walls are pure white, like freshly fallen snow, as the lights flicker in and out, casting everything in shadow.

But not a window in the place, at least none big enough to be considered windows. They were more like holes in the walls. Unless you're one of the higher-ups and have your own office. Like Johnson, or maybe even me one day. The view out the window is amazing.

When we reach his office, I can't help but take a breath. It never fails to amaze me, stealing the air in my lungs. I can see the moon rising above the trees. Our branch headquarters, or the Facility as we subjects call it, is located in a forest about fifty miles from the nearest town. Thinking about it, my kill is located in the city, about 75 miles away. Great... It doesn't seem that bad until you realize that you have to walk, run or steal a car.

After you walk into his office, to the far back is a huge window wall with a view over the woods surrounding the building. Depending on the time of day you're called in, you can see the sunrise or sunset, and if you're lucky, you can see the moon, like I can now.

To the left of the room is a big oak desk that's normally scrawled with paperwork, but clean and neat now, with a chair in front of it and behind it.

The one behind it is an oversized office chair, the kind you see in movies for villain bosses. I only know because I watch TV sometimes on a kill. It's a luxury we don't have here. The one in front looks uncomfortable, with its hard, straight, wooden back that sits at a 90-degree angle, and uncushioned seat, with absolutely no armrests at all.

On the right of the room is like a living room, the kind you see in a magazine. Although, none of us would ever live with a real one. We're all stuck here without any connection to a family.

One sofa is pushed against the wall with a beautifully lush green plant on the right of it and a black lamp on the other side. There's another sofa facing it, with a glass coffee table in between them and a sea-green carpet beneath them. Next to the lamp is a bookcase that has to be about 7 to 8 feet tall, each shelf filled with books. Tall books, short books, skinny ones, fat ones, paperback, hardcover, old ones and new ones. It was such a variety, it made me wonder whether Warden read them, or if it was just a collection.

"Sir?" My voice sounds like the way you would imagine a kid raised to be a killer. Cold and emotionless. I know better than to say anything else. I'm in here for a reason, better to not make the situation worse.

"Have a seat 17," Warden says, gesturing to the sofas. I don't question it and take a seat, my back straight as a rod. He takes the seat opposite mine, on the couch against the wall, chuckling. "At ease kid. The Superiors have a proposition for you."

"Proposition?" I question. I don't feel confused, but it's not hard to act like it. I've studied body language enough to know how to convey human emotions.

"Yes, a proposition. Think of it... as a gift. From us to you," he starts, smiling at me, all of his teeth showing. "After this contract, you will be given two choices. You can either become a company Killer, or you can be an Over. If you choose to be a Killer, your fingerprints will be erased, and you will do contracts until you become unable, and you will remain as 17.

"If you become an Over like I am, you will gain a name of your choice, you will stay here in STYA, and aid in helping kids with their abilities, training them and such," he explains. I nod my head slowly. Both sound tempting. I wouldn't mind actually having a name, other than my test number.

It gets annoying after a while being called by a number. It makes us seem like slaves, or worse than slaves. Like we aren't even human. But I guess to them, we're not. Just things to control. Not that I particularly care, just give me a name and I will do anything. Kill, train. Even if I have to stand in a freezer for a couple of days.

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, what's all this for?" I begin biting my lip as Warden smirks at me. An uneasy feeling begins to set in as he leans back, crossing his arms over his stomach.

"They see what you're doing son. And they know what you can become. With your particular... specialty, you can drive people to reach their full potential. Or you can be paid for what you do." He leans in closer to me, his elbows on his knees. "Listen, boy, you're perfect for either job. I'd advise you to take one. The other millions of experiments won't get the same offer, nor will it be the same way. The Superiors have favor with you. What do you say?"

I close my eyes, and I can feel the expectation coming from him. He expects me to say yes and pick one. I open my eyes. If I was a bit closer, I could read those emotional thoughts.

"Can I have time to think it over? I've got my next contract in a few minutes. I need to prepare and head out," I say, straightening again. He nods, offering his hand. I take it and we shake.

"Of course. Don't take too long. They don't like waiting. Dismissed." I nod and stand up, taking my leave, glancing over my shoulder at the window, and seeing the moon once again. Funny. I feel like this will be the last time I see this view.

After the door closes, I take a deep breath. I have a big decision to make. I go back to my room to take out my specially designed suit. It's all black to camouflage us with our surroundings since we normally do our contracts at night. I don't think anyone here has really seen the sun for more than a few minutes, if even. So I guess we're all a little pale. Except for those of color.

I think there's this one girl from Puerto Rico, and she still speaks Spanish, but her complexion looks like she's been sunless for a very long time, but still maintains her tannish color. Now that I think about it, it's funny how I understand her most of the time, but not enough to have a conversation. I open the case and sigh a little, looking at the clock. The time reads 8:17. Almost time to leave. I decide to head to see my "friends."

To me, they're nothing but people I hang with. I honestly don't care too much about them. They started talking to me and clustering around. Never bothered me much, so I never said anything. If I had someone to rely on, I guess it would be 6, 13 and 21.

Knowing them, they'll be in 21's room. Her place seems to be the popular spot for them. I opened the door and I was right. The three of them sit or stand in the room, glancing my way as I enter.

"Hey 17, get into trouble again?" 6 jokes. She has strawberry-blonde hair with brown eyes. No prominent facial features that I notice at least. I roll my eyes at her and take my usual spot next to the door.

The rooms aren't that big, about the size of a rectangular bedroom. I only know because that's where one of my kills led me. I was chasing this guy, and like an idiot, he ran into his daughter's room. Her bedroom was nice, but too much pink if you ask me.

All our rooms are the same size and set up the same way. A desk pushed into the far left corner, with a single solitary desk lamp. There's one file cabinet next to the desk. It's only ever two drawers tall. Filled with the files of our CKs, or Contract Kills. The completed ones always go in the bottom drawer, just to show that they've been completed and you're ready for new assignments. So far, my bottom drawer has had to be emptied twice in the last week. Dunno if that's a bad thing or a good one.

On the right wall, in the center, are our wonderfully firm beds. Complete with a fitted sheet, one pillow without a pillowcase, and a blanket so thin, you can feel a bug crawling on it in your sleep.

Actually happened to someone here once. I heard they freaked out because a spider was crawling on their stomach. They screamed so loud it almost woke up their entire floor. I almost laughed until I peed when I found out.

"Actually, Warden wanted to talk to me about an opportunity for me," I say, my voice dull as usual. I cross my arms over my chest and look at the others. I can feel my ability activate and like always, it starts as a tingling in the base of my skull, slowly spreading over my body like a warm blanket. When it finishes, it feels like all my nerves are lit and firing. I can feel the slightest change in moods and everything turns grey. I read emotions more accurately like this.

Shock and curiosity ring out loud and clear, but I know that's not all. I take a deeper look and see what they're feeling individually. 13 is super excited. Probably because he thinks he'll have a man on the inside or something. Good luck with that.

6 is angry at me for some reason. I wish I was closer, then I could know why she's angry. And 21, she's....disappointed? It's not like I said I was their friend. So I have no clue why she feels this way.

"Are you going to take it? You could find a way out of here 17. Maybe even get us out," 21 says. The look on the blonde's face says it all. I don't need to look at her. She feels hopeful. As if I could help her with something she's been dreaming of for years. Yeah right. I am not about to sabotage my life for some girl. I look down and grin at the floor.

"Still think this is just an act, huh 21?" I look at her and see everything shattering within her. All her hopes and dreams about getting out, or whatever crazy fantasy she cooked up. "It's not. I feel nothing. Not remorse, joy, anger, pain. Nothing. You ever wonder why I'm so good at what I do?" My voice is slightly raised, but I'm not angry. It's been many long years since I've been angry. I wouldn't even know what anger felt like anymore. Or anything like it. Just as blank as ever.

"Why did they send me out so much? Here, I'll tell you. It's because I have nothing. Not a single emotion in me. If I had a contract with a young child, I wouldn't feel guilty for taking their life early. Or remorse for their family as they grieve over their lost loved one." I look at 13, and he stiffens. "You read contraband. Ever read about coldhearted killers?" I ask, staring him down. I can feel the overwhelming fear coming off of them. Like a hurricane overtaking a small island. Sweat begins to bead on 13's face, dripping down onto his lashes. He blinks and tries to avoid my gaze, but I hold him in my harsh stare. He nods slowly. "Well guess what?"

"What?" He questions hesitantly, his voice small. I get closer to him, leaning in closer and closer until he has to take a step back and I'm in his face.

"You live with one..." I whisper. I take a step back, an evil grin on my face as a chuckle escapes me. I can see the color drain from their faces as it finally sinks in as to what I mean. "I am like a knife. I think not of what I cut as I move through life. I am cold, hard, and unfeeling. I cannot be scratched or rusted. Only sharpened. And right now, I'm pretty damn sharp. Watch your path. You might lose a limb or two."

6 stares at me, unfazed. I can still see a glimmer of hope inside. It's not like I've done anything caring towards them. So why does she still hang on?

"17. If you're so stone-hearted, then why do you hang around us? Surely there has to be something in you that cares about us, otherwise you wouldn't be here. You would've pushed us away by now," she says, basically grasping at straws. I bite my lower lip and look at her.

"6," I sigh, dubbing the bridge of my nose. "There's nothing. You guys gravitated to me. I never said anything because I didn't care. You were just someone to be around when I was bored. Sorry that you feel like I should, but I honestly don't. If something happened to you guys, I probably couldn't care less. I'd find a replacement." She bites her lip, nodding as tears brim in her eyes. That's nothing but weak and pathetic. Crying is for the new kids and babies. I stare at her, unmoved by her eye fluids.

"I'm sure you're wrong 17. So sure." She walks past me, bumping into my shoulder, and from that small touch, I get a glimpse at her hopes and fears.

I roll my eyes and look at the other two. 'If she only knew.' As 6 walks out, 21 and 13 look back at me, avoiding eye contact. "Would you hurt us if you were told to?" 21 meets my gaze, tears in her own. Another weakling.

"Depends on who tells me. I could snap your neck right now if I wanted to," I shrug. 21 sits on her bed, staring blankly at the floor.

"Can I be alone please?" Her voice is quiet. 13 nods and starts to head out. I look at the girl once again and shake my head.

"Whatever, I don't have time for this anyway. Bye 21." As I close the door behind me, 13 appears again.

"C'mon, man. You really don't mean what you said, do you?" he asks, hope and amusement in his voice. I glare at him and it withers away immediately.

"I do. And if you don't stop bugging me about it, you'll wind up in the medical wing. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a contract to fulfill," I snarl. He looks at the floor and I walk past him to my room.

After entering, I immediately go to the case on top of my bed. The suit is still next to it, lying flat. I strip down to my underwear and pull it on, scrunching my nose at the feel of it over my skin. It always feels funny, like it's suctioning itself to my skin. The suit is almost like footy pajamas but makes absolutely no sound, which is good for these assassinations I do. Don't need the target trying to sneak off before I can even reach them now do we?

I close the case and slip out the door, going unnoticed by my peers. Walking down the maze-like halls, I pass through many security clearances before I'm finally allowed into the darkness of night. The last guard looks at me with a strange look on his face. "Going out again 17?" he asks. I grin at him.

"What can I say? I'm good at my job. Might even work with you one day." He laughs at my comment before swiping a card and opening the door to let me through.

"Yeah, good luck with that kid. Have fun on your trip." I look behind me with a very insane smile.

"Don't I always?"

End of Chapter 1