(0.7) TRS - Molten Metal
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Tws: Blood, Gore, Child soldiers, Firearms, [Trigger warnings in Tags due to Spoilers, if you have any Tws relating to Child endangerment and things adjacent to permanent injuries, read the tags]
026 poked the side of his tray with the cheap plastic fork, watching his best friend pass through the line.
Despite the lifting of the lockdown, he hadn’t spoken to 032 since their earlier argument. He fidgeted nervously. No. 32 doesn’t get angry. I did the right thing, Lady Hallon would be proud of me.
It didn’t fix the nagging in the back of his mind.
024 leaned over across the table, “Hey, Curls!”
The voice jarred 026 back to reality. He scowled, “The fuck you want?”
“What’s up with 32? Why’d he show up 5 minutes after the rest of us? Isn’t he your roommate?"
“Yeah. He is.”
“Well then?”
“Why the fuck do you think I know? The instructors don’t tell us jack shit, dumbass. They took him during the lockdown.”
024 glared back at him; for the moment, there was a stalemate. 026 considered throwing his fork at the other boy’s eye. At least that might make something about this entertaining.
But before either of them could do something to break the silence, the subject of the tension made his way over to the table, “Hi!”
024 nodded in acknowledgement, and 032 returned a sunny smile, though it twitched at the end as he turned to 026. 032 flopped down on the bench across from him with a sigh.
They didn’t look each other in the eyes for a few minutes.
“Uhm… Greene told me I’ve been chosen for something.” His voice was soft— almost nervous?
026 glanced up, “Really? What for? Did he say? Was it a client?”
032 shook his head, “No. The only thing he did say was that it's for the facilities.”
“Damn.”
“Look, 26, I-” He paused.
A moment of panic flashed through his head at the prospect of dealing with an apology. A million of Eilene's words cascaded through his head, and he startled, “I- I’d bet you this shitty breadroll you can’t beat me in an arm wrestle!”
026 grinned, inwardly proud of himself he’d shifted the conversation. 032 seemed startled for a moment, then grinned back, “Oh, you’re ON!”
026 offered his hand, which 032 took; they shared a mutual relief to avoid discussing the argument. Competitive eyes found each other, a million unsaid words heralding the death of innocence. Pressure jolted into their clasped hands.
“So what made you think accepting my challenge would work out for you?” 026 grinned, pushing his friend's hand with as much strength as he could muster, trembling slightly as his muscles tightened and the fresh scars staining his elbows and upper arms ground into the table.
“Oh, I don't know, your misplaced confidence, perhaps?” The increased pressure was returned. The turn of gravity and strength wavered in the air like buzzing electricity.
“Them's fighting words, 32! If you're not careful, I might be forced to strangle you in your sleep!”
“Then maybe you'll just have to fight me better!”
The other boys—only just catching on as 026 slipped a little—clamored around them in an eager ring to watch. Most cheered for 032.
Rude. But fair.
The best friends challenged one another with grins and silent taunts present in their opposing glares. The match only ended when a voice—accompanied by the strong stench of cigarette smoke—scattered them like frightened deer: “Alright, that's enough! What's going on here?”
026 glanced up at Ruiz, unable to disguise his glare; 032 took the opportunity to slam his friend's hand into the table.
026 inhaled sharply, “Have you nev-”
“Shut it. 032, the Directors want you immediately.”
032 looked up, surprised, as the other boys swiveled to look at him. He glanced around at the eyes, hands tensing inward toward his chest.
“We don’t have all day,” Ruiz narrowed his eyes impatiently. The irritated spark in his eyes gave a hesitation to 032’s movements as he stood and shuffled over to the instructor. 026 scowled harder at Ruiz. There was a deadly pause, “And what the fuck do you all think you’re looking at?”
Most of the other boys swiftly resumed their conversation. 026 continued his glare, but he didn’t move as Ruiz grabbed the other boy’s shoulder. 032 flinched, reluctantly tailing him to the door.
026 didn't stay long afterward.
He returned to his room quietly. It remained empty, save for him, far into the evening, which soon bled into night. Sleep came slowly to 026 in his furious, bedridden sulking, but it did come eventually.
-♢-
The room drowned in a bluish-silver darkness as a tearful: “Fuck!-” whispered over the wooden floor, fluttering 026’s eyes open.
He blinked at the wall groggily as a dim residual golden flicker stained his vision. A… car headlight? He remembered those when Hayes woke him up early for a night meeting with Lady Hallon. But no…
He was inside.
Inside?
Then where the hell is the light coming from?
A soft shuffling accompanied the dimming of the light, as if someone had tried to stifle it. Intruder?
026 shook himself, bolting upright as soon as he caught his head.
But as he whirled toward the light and the sound, 032 froze, his wide brown eyes locking on his best friend’s, brimming with an uncontrollable stream of tears. As soon as he realized he’d woken him, a pathetic sob finally released from his trembling lips; he kicked the gun case, face contorting in some mixture of agony and rage: “GODDAMMIT!”
026 pushed himself to his feet, “32? What’s-”
“G- Go the fuck back to sleep!” His friend’s voice rose just above a whisper, cracking over itself as he swiped the last piece of his gun off the floor. He attempted unsuccessfully to attach it to the rest of the weapon with a frustrated growl.
“No.” 026 crossed his arms, “You’re going to tell me what’s happening.”
032 swallowed slowly, trying to dry the tears with the back of his hand. “My job…” He sniffled, a glimmer of hope stopping the tears for a moment, replacing a sob with a shuddering breath and a thick, choked string of words, “Said I was competent. Good… at shooting. Needed my skills…”
“What in the everloving fuck are you talking about?”
“They- The Directors. They told me… they had a mission for me… gave me all the briefing… I’m going… in two hours,” He straightened proudly, but his face fell as he spoke again— “Alone.”
026 frowned, but his friend glared at him, “Don’t look at me like that! I can do it, It’s fine. I’m not… scared.”
“I never said you couldn't! I never even thought it!”
032 folded his arms, taking a second to swallow his tears; he glared at his shoes, almost unable to speak.
“I’m coming.”
“What? No, 26, that’s stupid.”
“No it’s not.”
“You’ll get caught.”
“Nobody has to know, we’ll be long gone before they even realize!”
032 paused again. The two boys stared at each other for a moment longer; 026 crossed his arms challengingly.
032 rolled his eyes, "Fine, you can come along if you want, but I wanna do this on my own. I don't need your help, just... it's better if it's not so quiet. I do all the work, you follow me, got it?"
026 grinned, "Whatever you say, Jackass.”
Their eyes met, 032 nodded slowly, "Alright."
-♢-
The engine of the car rumbled softly amongst the summer cricketsong. Minutes? God, it feels like hours. 026 resisted the urge to shift and give his legs—aching from the strange position he’d used to curl up unseen beneath the tarp—an extremely needed break. If he moved even an inch, the stupid thing may rustle and give away his position. An instant failure to twenty minutes of effort, and fifteen more of holding painfully still.
Gravel crunched just a few feet from his head, and his breath caught in his throat. Everything rode on this. Whoever that was; Hayes, Ruiz, 032? Well, whichever it turned out to be, the entire plan from here on out relied on pure luck. One wrong twitch, and it would all be over.
026 listened closer, beating his thoughts back with a proverbial broom as a very familiar voice spoke, “Hey kid.” Greene.
“Hello Sir.” 032.
Safe. For now, at the very least.
Relief washed over him. But even then, he didn’t dare move. On a better evening, Greene would be too damn lazy to check the back of the truck, but depending on his mood, 026 could already be fucked and he didn’t even realize. His finger tightened on the firmly enabled safety of his gun. An AR-15, high quality, a new issue that actually fit his size by virtue of being chosen by Eilene. He’d affectionately decided on the name ‘Pearl’ a few years ago, and now, in the tense silence, she remained his only solace. I could get the angle right to bash Greene’s head in if worst comes to worst. Depends if he has his sidearm.
He focused back into the conversation.
“I’m ready, sir.”
“And how sure are you?”
A small sigh from his friend, “Mr. Greene, I’m fine.”
“Good. We need you at your best for this. It should be empty. Your main priority is to stay out of sight. If you see anyone, get back to the rendezvous point, understood?”
“I know, sir.”
Another long pause stretched between them.
“Well, since I’m the only instructor taking you... want shotgun? Might be your only chance.” 026 debated the softness in Greene’s tone for a moment in jealousy.
“Really?” 032’s grin made itself evident in his voice.
“I’d suggest you take the offer before I get a little smarter and take that back.”
“Y-Yessir!” The crackle of gravelly footsteps alerted 026 to the movement of his friend. He counted the seconds as two doors slammed shut in quick succession, and huffed a slow breath between his teeth.
A long, blissful moment of silence followed. The car jolted forward slightly, and more gravel ground beneath the tires. 026 held still for a moment longer, trembling, until he was fairly certain no danger remained near to him, and slowly unfolded his legs. A new stiff form of agony tore through his muscles, but it was perfect. As Eilene said, pain is progress.
Per usual, the car ride itself remained quiet and uneventful, save for the rushing air and the obnoxious rustling of the tarp overhead. Moving slowly—despite the car window blocking him from Greene’s view—he shifted into a more anticipatory stance. His weight landed on his knees as he carefully pulled up the edges of the tarp in order to slip out.
032 had only given him the most rudimentary of details, but it’d have to be enough. He had faith in his friend. This was his mission, after all.
Eilene’s voice echoed through his head, ’Trust no one.’
026 paused. But— it was 032! Of anyone, he could trust his best friend, right?
He huffed an annoyed breath through his teeth into the passing air. Nonsense. There had never been any reason not to trust 032. The truck began to slow. He ran his finger nervously along the textured pistol grip of his gun, checking Pearl’s ammunition with barely veiled terror. As he locked the magazine back into place, he narrowed his eyes. Alright, 026, don’t fuck this up.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the chainlink fence and his gaze wound across it for the weak point. There! a singular broken light. Time to go. 026 surged forward, gripping the gun in one hand as he pulled himself—as smoothly as he could manage— out from under the tarp and tumbled onto the moving road. A burst of pain, like electricity locking his legs raced up from the ground, and he darted for the nearest bush as soon as he regained the ability to move.
Okay, now all I have to do is wait. See if I fucked it up. He sighed, eyeing the truck as the dim headlights flickered off a mildly annoying distance ahead of him; it rolled to a stop shortly after. Indiscernible voices marked the next step as he watched 032 stumble nervously out of the car.
He crept forward as carefully as he could manage not to alert Greene to his presence, but that didn’t seem to be much of a concern as the truck started back to life. 032 scrambled beneath the concealed hole in the fence, and 026 waited until Greene was out of sight before he dashed to the spot and crawled after his friend. He spotted him tense at the rustle of his movement, “It’s me!”
032 huffed a gentle sigh of relief and knelt, pulling 026 through, and in a moment, they stood together on the other side.
“You did it!”
“Sure did! And you doubted me? You owe me five bucks.”
032 scoffed, “Alright, shut up! We’ve gotta go, Greene’ll be back in two hours.”
“So what did he tell you?”
“He said the base is dead north, that way, about a twenty minute walk, it shouldn’t be hard to pick the lock and grab the files we need, he says they’re under the letter S. But he also said to be careful where you step. The metal bits should make danger pretty obvious.”
“A-okay, boss man!” 026 mock saluted his friend, earning him a hefty punch as consequence.
Eagerly, the two boys set off, scanning the ground around them for several thousands of yards before 032 glanced at his friend. “Danger my ass, we haven’t seen shit this whole time!”
026 chuckled, “Maybe he lied just to scare you.”
“He’s not Hayes!”
He made a face at his friend. Rude. You have the better instructor. But he grinned anyway, falling back into the euphoria of freedom. In an instant, ge set the gun down in the loose dirt, shoving 032 over; laughing, he darted away in the beautiful dim silver light.
032 shook his head, his arms flounering in the air for balance, “HEY!”
026 bounced on his toes, mischievously inviting his friend into a playfight. 032 glanced north, noting the tiny outline of the building on the darkened horizon. There was a short pause, debating his decision.
He grinned back, and to 026’s delight, he bolted forward, “You’re such a bitch!”
Laughter rippled through the peaceful darkness as the grip of his shoes dug into the hard ground, kicking up tiny clouds of dust in his attempts to dodge. He whirled to face his friend, hissing a breath through his teeth in measured excitement as he tore a handful of grass from the ground. 032 watched him, calculations visibly running over his face. But, of course, he was too slow. 026 lunged for him, grinning, as he flung the grass into his friend’s face and darted off again, mischievous giggling accompanying his treacherous maneuver. Let’s see if it works!
032 shook his head, scanning the darkness for him for a comedically long time before he spotted him and gave chase. 026 wound away, the thrill of the fight pulling him into a dance with silent music like a marionette ripped into shreds at all the seams. Pain like crystalline structures, glittering in the delight of evading another reaching hand. Missed by a hair.
A rope tightened around his neck— no, not his neck, his sleeve? His shoes scrabbled against the dirt for a moment as his balance was pulled from beneath him as if he were a misbehaving plate set on a magician's tablecloth. The sly creature in hot pursuit with his playful claws tossed 026 back through the mud with a terrifying ease, “Aw, come on, running away, coward?
With a note of clumsy confidence, 032 barreled forward, likely emboldened by the successful halt of his friend's momentum. Faster than expected, he wrestled 026 into a headlock, the strength overpowering him. A rush of strangled thoughts fanned through his head as his friend grinned in an annoying jolt of triumph, like a damn peacock.
026 closed his eyes. Maybe too soon. Maybe too early. Too close. He twisted, ignoring the pressure around his neck and shoulders, crushing his filthy origins and past into something admirable to his master. Lady Hallon, coal glittering like diamonds in the corners of his strained vision, lecturing him to endure the pain.
032 startled, clearly not expecting resistance, especially of the type 026 gave. He drove his elbow into his friend’s ribs, darting out of range with a triumphant grin in 032’s small falter.
His friend pounced, and the fight spun into a high note. Under the soft silver light of the full moon they traded playful blows with one another— like an infinitely blinding circle chasing itself into oblivion. Round and round they went, grubby fistfuls of sand flung between electric thickets of space. Powerlines of feeling, darting back and forth over the sparse shrubbery with little more than a care in the world.
The infinitely deep void, falling up and up all over again, floating in suspended seconds. A moment unchained, the highs of dreaming, tasting the surreal sweetness of it; it dissolved on contact and soaking into his veins like stars revolving in and around one another like parallel dancers. Weaving sugar into lead. The high of free decisions.
An illusion.
Purpose as vast as the stars itself, taunting him in how hard he laughed at yet another fistful of sand to the face. His lungs screamed for relief from the wheezing of childhood innocence. In that brief moment where everything was that innocence. Where everything was vast possibilities, and they forgot the trajectory of their life had already been determined when they'd been torn away from their parents.
Where the path didn't only lead to death. When the sand shifted to reveal the next right step.
Sleight of hand and tumbling fists of two kids who never got to be kids. Rolling and fumbling against one another in breathless giggling and taunting. 026 dug his fingers into 032's hair to fight him off, earning him another handful of dirt to the face. Agh! Goddammit!
026 looked up, disgruntled as his friend pinwheeled away. He grabbed another ominous fistful of sand, raising it triumphantly over his head as 026 spat out the remaining grains stuck to his gums.
“Come one step closer and I'll get it in your eyes!” 032 giggled, widening the distance with a few careful steps backward. 026 rolled his eyes, cracking his knuckles in a return of the threat. Footsteps pattering on the soil as the two made a wide arc around one another in a little taunting game.
Steps echoing down through the loose grains into the steady soil and rock itself. Shards of metal shifting and twitching at the pressure of each step, air turning to lightning as threads of fate sliced between scissors and a single footfall twisted time itself into a sickening knot of confusion and whirlwinds of sand in a storm. The ground shook in imperceptible waves of distress. Rust creaked. The storm rumbled softly on the horizon of time itself. Numbers cycled into themselves, and a spring locked into place. Grains of a metallic powder fell like sand in an hourglass tipped on its head. A foot lifted, the tiny shoe skidding just a few inches beyond the metal shards sticking out of the ground. Tick tock.
The ground erupted in a flash of light so bright the sun itself seemed to have awoken from beneath the ground. Dirt torn into rocky shards as the earth beneath swelled and burst. Fire rose in a pillar to the sky, catching 032's feet in collateral, consuming him whole as the world turned white. Shattering the fabric of sound itself with tentacles of flame. Smoke. Metal like bullets. Like God himself come to burn the world for its shortcomings. A flaming sword and claws winding around feet.
A blast like a million guns. A force stronger than wind. Digging into flesh. Heat. Searing meat off of bones by sheer proximity. Again. And again. Pillars of flame to stars. The ground became a sea of lava, consuming everything it would touch; silver light sparkling from wires and a grinning face. A scream so bloody the oceans rose crimson in the darkness. The smell of iron. Rusty smoke. So much fucking smoke. Oh God, no. A crater in the earth from the sun's daughter star bursting into flames. Higher than the sky, more smoke. Ash rained like Tar-stained snow. 026's head hit the ground, the world spinning for a moment as his ears rang a million agonized bells.
Fire crackled between the stones. Brimstone. Char. That scream winding through the air now dead silent. Nothing. Only the crackle of flames reaching into his veins to tear every cord of his heart. Confusion. So much confusion. What the fuck just happened? Where's the sun? Where am I? Why is it so dark? Is the world over? Why does my skin burn?
The world spun upside-down. Earth became sky, quartz crystals, the new stars. Sky the sparkling of black sand. And spinning in the infinite dusty expanse of night, a trembling heap sobbed and collapsed into silence once more. 026 scraped himself from the ground to crawl through the embers and scattered rubble toward what he could only assume was his best friend. He stopped, every organ in his body twisting like a cloth wrung out to dry. A searing nausea sunk through every tissue in his body as his eyes locked on a crudely severed hand an inch from his face, smelling of wet copper and death; ash choked through his lungs in visceral taunting laughter.
“...32?”
Shuddering breaths became his only comfort. 026 couldn't seem to close his eyes, not even to blink; they scanned every inch of the heavy red figure staining the sand in its stillness. Bits of something wet and sticky greeted his scrabbling fingers. His every step like a cancerous growth heavier than lead coursing through his veins.
And he reached the heap. Folded at all the wrong awkward angles, 032 breathed a few shallow, gurgling breaths as if he were drowning in blood. White points jabbed through his limbs as if he'd been pulled in every direction by a cluster of sadistic kebab sticks. Skin seemed like a thing of memory, his lower jaw missing a piece but leaving his mouth mostly intact except for the small bloody bit of tongue splattered in the patch of grass in front of 026's fingers. One eye had become a smoking crater in his face, as if it had erupted just like the earth from the inside, tendons and tissue hung limp from his body, shards of metal imbedded in his skin. Sand covered his skinless muscle in a thin ashy film, he trembled, but did not stop breathing.
For a long moment, all 026 could do was stare, hearing a heartbeat through the loose skin, a miracle from hell.
He was alive?
He wanted so desperately to close his eyes, eliminate the flash from the inside of his eyelids.
Oh God. All the blood. Freedom. Pain. Metal shards. Greene told them to be careful. Fire. The world was over. This was hell. It had to be. It had to be real. His friend was dead. No. Was he? What was happening?
All 026 could do in the silence was scream, sobbing through every visceral shriek that tore from his throat, digging at the tiny metal and stone shards imbedded in his skin and the ears that wouldn't quite work. A limp not-yet corpse sprawled across the ground, the agonizing grin ripping through the corners of his lips against two childish wills. No. Danger was meant to be fun. Not real. Pain was a game, a lesson. I was supposed to have fun with my friend disobeying the rules. What the fuck?
It was only a game.
I told him to loosen up.
He's dead.
WHAT HAVE I DONE?
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[Statement: Entertaining.]
