These aren't scared guards running for their lives. These are predators stalking through Ravenscroft's halls.
Whatever force is tearing through the facility tonight, I need to decide quickly if they're potential allies or just another threat to eliminate.
The fact that they're killing guards suggests we might share common enemies, but six years in this place has taught me that the enemy of my enemy isn't always my friend.
Sometimes they're just a different kind of monster.
Even after the footsteps fade, I remain motionless, every enhanced sense straining to detect potential threats.
The silence feels oppressive, heavy with possibilities of danger. But it also offers an opportunity –these guards mighthave something useful on them, something to help me navigate my way out of this maze.
I move among the bodies with practiced efficiency, searching for anything that might aid my escape.More weapons? Maybe a walkie-talkie? No…something that can be valuable without revealing my location…
A communicator catches my eye, its screen still glowing with active messages. As I pick it up, the latest transmission makes my blood run cold:
"Capture Patient 495"glows in bold letters, followed by three words that hit like physical blows:"Dead or alive."
I shouldn't care.
Shouldn't feel anything about this clinical assessment of my worth. After all these years of being treated like an object aimed to be used, why should their disregard for my life affect me now?
And yet...
Something in my chest constricts as I stare at those glowing words. All this time, enduring their tests and trials, surviving when others broke, becoming exactly what they wanted me to be –and still—— I'm nothing more to them than a target to be acquired or eliminated.
The reality of my situation crashes down with a crushing weight. For as long as I can remember – which admittedly isn't very far back – I've existed within their cage. Every breath, moment, and trace of what might be called life has been contained within Ravenscroft's sterile walls.
Now, with freedom tantalizingly close, with the taste of possibility on my tongue, they've already marked me for recapture or death.
There is no middle ground, no chance for mercy, no option that doesn't end with me either back in their cage or in a body bag.
Something wet hits the screen's glowing surface.
I frown, lifting the device closer to watch as another droplet falls.
Then another.
And another.
The realization that I'm crying hits harder than I’d ever admit. Tears track down my flushed cheeks, each one a silent betrayal of the strength I've fought so hard to maintain.
In six years, I've felt my eyes burn with unshed tears countless times.But I never let them fall.Never gave them the satisfaction of seeing that weakness. Never dared allow myself the luxury of such naked vulnerability in a place that showed no mercy.
So why now? In this instance where so much is at risk. Far too much at stake, and freedom is just at my fingertips…
In this room full of death, surrounded by the cooling bodies of my tormentors, something finally breaks. The tears fall freely now, each one carrying years of suppressed pain, fear, and the horrible understanding that my life means nothing to them.
A sound tries to escape my throat –between a whimper and a sob– but I fight it back. Even alone, in this moment of revelation, some habits of survival run too deep to break.
The heavy tread of boots passing nearby forces me to focus, to think tactically about my situation. Those men who rushed past earlier – their movements spoke of military training, of coordinated assault tactics.
Against a force like that, what real chance do I have?
Ravenscroft may have made me into their perfect weapon, with enhanced abilities beyond normal human limits, but I'm still just one person.One omega.An experiment that happened to survive their trials.
I can kill, yes. Certainly fight with lethal efficiency. I’m confident I’ll take down quite a few of them before they stop me.
In the end, I'm still flesh and blood.