@inluck hailed: Don’t chase the rabbit 👀
a gunshot breaks the endless silence. a gasp follows immediately after, then the blaring of alarms. there are voices amidst the chaos, but their words he cannot discern. the commotion is distant, but even at a distance — even through long corridors & thick, titanium-reinforced walls — it rings in his ears. this ability is not one he can control. not yet, at least.
the boy covers his ears to muffle the sounds, but it does little to dampen the intensity. more gunshots come, & they sound closer now. closer & closer they come. not knowing what may happen if the source of the gunshots reaches his room, the boy looks for somewhere to hide.
but the small room offers little shelter from such a possibility. in fact, the room has been designed to prevent escape rather than infiltration. all the boy can do is crouch behind his bed & HOPE that no one enters.
eyes squeezed shut, arms wrapped around his knees, blood pounding in his ears. he is afraid. it has been mere months since he was first plucked from the streets & locked away from the world. his fear has not yet hardened & turned to ANGER. between his silent prayers, he hears a voice —
“ if he dies, you can live whatever kind of life you want. and you’ll never have to hear the name ‘ khan ’ ever again. you can be free of him. ”
the silence that follows hangs heavy in the air until it is followed by the sounds of combat. he curls farther into himself, as though if he tried, he could make himself disappear. when the door opens, his eyes fly open & he thinks that he needs to run. yet he cannot will himself to move a muscle.
two more gunshots, then silence. a body falls to the ground. by the time he has mustered enough courage to peek around the corner of the bed, he watches the body crumble to d u s t before his eyes.
for a moment, all is still, but he knows someone is just outside the doorway. soft footsteps grow nearer, & soon the stranger comes into view. the woman is only a few steps away, but she doesn’t seem to be searching for him. instead, her attention is on the shelves & the walls. she seems . . . puzzled, he thinks. why is she here?
before he can think to do anything else, he speaks —
“ are you going to kill me? ”
she appears surprised, like she wasn’t expecting to see him here, like she has forgotten there is a gun in her hand. he watches her cautiously, & strangely, he has the sense that she is not an adversary.
“ no . . . of course not, i — ” she pauses, placing the gun down on his desk. “ you don’t need to be scared of me. ”
he stays still, wary of her. she studies him silently. then she picks up a cloth & motions for him to sit down beside her. for some reason unknown even to him, he does as she asks. there is something about her that he trusts. as she gently wipes the dirt & tears from his face, she seems to have a realization.
“ you’re just a little boy. ”
though she says it aloud, he knows the thought is for herself, & he wonders what she is thinking. but then she asks if there are others like him, & his gaze drifts to a photo on the wall.
as she gazes upon the photo of him & the other children who live here, a thought crosses his mind. “ are you here to take me away? ”
something in her expression grows somber, & it causes him only confusion.
“ this won’t make any sense right now — maybe it won’t ever — but you are right where you need to be. ”
& she’s right — it doesn’t make any sense. long after she has gone, those words echo in his mind.
every time the doctors experiment —
you are right where you need to be.
every torturous match he is forced to fight —
you are right where you need to be.
every night he sheds tears for the life he once had —
you are right where you need to be.
days turn to weeks, to months, to years. the confusion becomes frustration. frustration becomes anger. the anger simmers & boils until he can no longer contain it. & the rest, as they say, is history.
it is only when he sees la’an’s face, many lightyears away & several centuries later, that he begins to understand.
