vampirebloodperfume

Part One: "Snap!" Goes the Soldier

Disgusted was the only word Max knew how to use at that point. She stared down at her hands, calloused from missions and speckled with dirt. The golden leaves cracked and squished under her boots, and Ben lay dead in her arms. The sun fell through the trees in dull, warm streams, and they landed against her like a spotlight showcasing what she had done.

The helicopter got louder above her, and she heard the other soldiers run through the woods in attempt to find her once more.

She looked down at Ben, and his blood dripped from his mouth to her thigh.

Disgusted.

She stood up slowly, to the sound of louder footsteps, and Ben slid off of her and thumped against the dirt.

"I hope you meet the Blue Lady." She whispered down to him. She wanted to believe that something was going to continue to watch over him, even if she didn't believe it.

'Don't you feel it? The rush? You're supposed to. It's what you were designed to do. You were designed to run, demanded or not. You have to run. Run, goddamnit, run!' She thought to herself, and so she did.

She ran through the thorny bushes that grabbed and cut at her skin whilst gritting her teeth. The early winter air slid under her jacket and spread throughout her, and her breath came out in pale clouds. The soldiers refused to hush each other at that point, and they called after her.

Max swore to herself that if night fell before she could get to safety, she would fall unconscious on the spot. It's better to not see what the soldiers would do to you, especially once you've been outnumbered and thinned from circumstance.

Shame spilled from where she took off and crawled back to her. There were so many ways to prevent this, weren't there?

Her eyes grew thick with tears as she made her way down the trail and to a small lake cabin, which boarded up at the door.

The soldiers were too far away from her to see her climb through one of the windows, and the jagged glass cut through her side as she wriggled her way in. To her unexpected surprise, she fell to the floor, and into a puddle of more shattered glass. Luckily, she was smart enough to keep her eyes closed. Disguised.

Could the soldiers see her? No. Were they stupid? Somewhat.

Max lay there, exhausted. Her jaw was punctured with glass, she was cold and bloody and starved. She felt almost glued in place, and she let out another shaky sob as she lifted her head.

Before she could make another comment to herself about her state, she felt it: peering, silent eyes on her. Her hands turned to fists against the wooden floor, and she pushed herself upwards.

Get up, goddamnit. Get up!

She rose to her feet slowly, too slowly. By the time she turned towards the window, the eyes had shifted away from her sight. She stood there - still, unsure. The glass crunched against one of the soldiers boots behind her, and she almost didn't even feel the hand reach out to grab the back of her neck, or the needle that was forced into her shoulder. Almost.

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

"Look who's awake." A faint voice. At least she wasn't alone.

Manticore's nurse office was dimmer than Max remembered - and more blurry. She glanced to her side and saw a soldier no older than 22 sitting on a chair next to her. His arms were crossed, and his eyebrow raised. He looked like he had done this a million times, and he turned to reach for the hydrogen peroxide.

Max squinted her eyes.

"...Ben?" She asked gently, maybe some part of her thought everything that happened that night was a dream, or maybe she was dead too. Maybe heaven was just Manticore. Where they were meant to be.

"What?" The soldier asked, and his brow lowered, only to furrow.

Max paused for a moment, before turning her attention back to the ceiling. The frown grew as she closed her heavy eyes once again. "You look like someone I used to know." The defeat she felt was clear in how she spoke. She was back to her starting point, and she knew no one would give two shits about it.

There was no warning before the cotton pad drenched in peroxide made contact with her jaw, and her eyes snapped open.

"A little cold?" The soldier asked, before setting the cotton pad down, which was now dabbled with blood. Some old, some new.

Lesson learned: Transgenics bleed like hell.

He smiled down at her, still working on patching the wound. "So who's this Ben guy?" He crumpled the bandaid wrapper and tossed it into the trash, a needle trapped between his teeth. Great, she's getting stitches too.

"493, he was one of the X5s that got out." Max said, not thrilled to explain the backstory behind her lab grown brother.

493. That caught the soldier's interest.

"So you're saying this 493 guy looks exactly like me?" He asked, standing up to review the patchwork he did on her. "Must've been a handsome guy."

'Dragged back to Manticore, only to be taken under the care of a narcissistic nurse/soldier combo pack. Peachy.' She thought to herself, sitting up slowly. The soldier lifted his hand to her chest and pushed her back down on the cot.

"You have to let the medicine wear off before you get back to your cell."

Max slumped back to her original resting position and stared at the soldier like he just bitchslapped her. They both knew Manticore wasn't going to be sympathetic enough to just let her go back to her cell.

'Try a week of starvation, maybe that would make more sense.' She thought, before closing her eyes again.

Part Two: Butchered Goods

'If you keep your eyes closed, maybe they will forget about you. Maybe you'll forget about them.' Max thought that over and over again like she was brainwashing herself.

There were specific things she decided not to take notice of, like the open cuts and jabs that felt as though they were pinching her. Small, irritating fingers pulling at her jaw, hip, and neck.

Or, the fact that when she got out of that office, it would be right to questioning. She would have to play the part of the perfect soldier until she could make it out again.

And what was up with that guy that looked freakishly like Ben?

Maybe he was just a nurse. Either way, she thought it was funny thinking of him taking orders from a drill sergeant, or from anyone, so she decided to call him a soldier from now on.

On queue, he strolled in.

"You feel dizzy? Anything that would make you feel like you're gonna pass out on the spot?" He asked, standing in front of her now.

She lifted herself up from the cot and took a deep breath as she did so. "...No, I don't."

Bullshit. She still felt like she would throw up, and she knew it wasn't the drugs these losers gave to her.

"Come on then."

He took her hand, guiding her (not so gently) off of the cot, and she stumbled slightly as her feet hit the floor. Right, the other thing she decided not to take notice of was the fact that her ankle had been twisted after her fall into the glass.

Transgenics are quick enough healers, so at least she didn't fall straight on her face.

The way to mess hall was silent. It was cold and dry in the building, and Max was just as unsettled as she was before she got here. She knew Manticore was still watching, the cameras, microphones, or guards would always see her.

'Keep quiet, they can hear you. Stay invisible, they can see you. Don't exist, you will die if you do.' Those were the words that defined Max's whole life.

Sooner or later she would have to learn how to live with it, because that was reality again.

There were no more people to go to Crash with, there were no more cheap takeout meals to binge at 3AM, and there was no more Logan next to her anymore.

This bitch was the only thing she had.

"452? You with me?" The soldier next to her asks, and she looked at him like a tired, blank deer.

"Yeah."

"Good, 'cause it's time to eat whatever slop they got ready for us. Is it canned soup? Unseasoned turkey? Who knows! The lunchroom is our oyster."

She continued to look at him, blank, only slightly more disgusted. Maybe if she looked stupid enough he would just let her rot and die. In that order. Rot and die.

He flashed her a smile, one of also pure disgust. "So, how's the wound heali—"

"Everyone to mess hall. I repeat, everyone to mess hall. Make it fast." A speaker above them blared out the words. The voice sounded as if an AI was trying to sound like a serious woman. The soldier straightened up the instant the instructions were given, as if he forgot that was basically their bell. Sooner or later, someone with too much dog DNA will salivate at the sound.

"Oh, great. 'Make it fast' is so reassuring that everything's fine." Max muttered under her breath, and the soldier hummed in agreement, before sitting down at one of the tables, tray in hand.

Metal chairs weren't the most comfortable thing to sit on after being practically assaulted by glass, but she made do with it.

And just like that, the microphone ticked on again.

"As you know, we have caught three of the 12 escapees. Two dead, one alive."

Max froze. 'Two dead? Why the hell would Manticore even—' Her thought stayed cut off.

"You will notice the pork on your tray, it is flavorless and chewy. This is a consequence of your actions. One alive." The 'woman' at the other end of the speaker uttered the last words like a threat. 'One alive' as if they were speaking right to Max. 'One alive' as if that was her new title. 'One alive' as if she wasn't going to be alive much longer.

"Say thank you to your brothers and sisters, and eat."

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

There was a moldy smell coming from the cot now. Maybe Max just then noticed it since that her nose wasn't blocked from constant sniffling. She shifted her feet to the ground, hands picking at the skin of her neck. It didn't feel like her body, she was something far from this. She was a black entity floating somewhere else.

She stood up slowly, and her arms fell to her side.

God, she needed something to cling onto. Anything.

She watched as the soldier packed the cabinets full of rations, probably for other patients.

Funny enough, she still didn't know whether to call him a soldier or a nurse. He looked the killing type (in Manticore's standards, not hers) but he still handled all the medical shit they put on him.

She was quiet enough that it went unnoticed she was awake and staring at him. Somewhat hungrily.

To her defense, the pork only made her stomach feel emptier. Only then did meat have that effect on her.

"Can I have one of those?" She asked quietly, like the emergency food was a quick snack. Pointing to one of the nutrition bars, with a slight pout on her lips. It always worked on Logan, why not him?

The soldier stayed stiff from where he stood, frozen from the sudden voice. "I can get you some uh... I can get you whatever's left from mess hall."

"The pork made me more hungry." Max confessed.

"Mhm." He hummed, "They told you it would do that. A punishment for your actions, something along those lines."

Max went blank deer again.

"Right... you don't remember that part, do you, darlin?"

Blank deer.

"You blacked out pretty shortly after you started eating."

The deer wasn't blank anymore, but still startled. "Why...?"

"Well, I'm assuming from shock. You realized that you were eating human flesh. How you knew that? I still have no idea." He flashed her an emotionless smile. "Make enough sense for ya?"

"...Yes."

Well, she'd decided to cling onto that piece of information.

"Who was it?" Max had then backed into the cot, sitting down again.

The soldier sighed, biting the inside of his cheek. "493, your fellow trader." He tapped his gloved fingers along his hip, tilting his head while awaiting reaction.

"I spent eight years finding him." She paused again. "And he's gone. I mean, he's really gone—"

"If he took that long to find he didn't want to be found." The soldier cut in, stepping closer to her. "How could you mourn something you never had? And something that selfish?"

"He wasn't selfish, he— he was trying not to be like what Manticore wanted him to be."

The soldier chuckled, yet his eyes never shifted. "By killing? Come on, you know that's what they would've wanted. You can't think like you did when you were thirteen."

Max took a deep breath in. "Fine, Alec."

"Excuse me?" The soldier replied, furrowing his brows.

"Alec. From now on, I'll call you Alec."

"Why's that?"

"You're smart, aren't you?"

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

For now, she plays the part of a cannibal soldier.

Max looked down at her breakfast tray - pork, again. This time, Manticore wasn't shy about letting the other soldiers know what they were eating. For this reason, Max avoided turning her head towards the kitchen to see a nearly skinned Ben sprawled on the counter.

"It's disgusting, honestly." She muttered to Alec, not daring to touch her fork as she motioned her head towards the sight.

He grimaced at the scene in front of him. Sliced, carved, chopped, and cooked.

A test of obedience, Max thought to herself.

She looked down to her tray, and she picked up her fork.

"Hey, hey..." Alec started, furrowing his brows. "Max, you don't have to eat it, I could just steal some protein bars or somethin—"

"I want to." She murmured.

Oh. Oh no. Alec thought to himself.

She raised her head slowly, glassy eyed. "If I eat this, that'll prove I'm trustworthy to Manticore. At some point they'll have to let me off their radar."

"No, it only makes you look crazy."

"Fuck off."

As Alec stayed sat across from her, he tilted his head. Then, the small, knowing smile appeared again.

"You're not really gonna eat that, are you?"

Max glanced back down to the tray.

"C'mon sister, have a little dignity."

She gripped her fork tighter, looking back up to him. "Why do you care?" She asked, narrowing her eyes slightly.

"You blacked out what you found out what 'pork' meant. I don't want to have to keep you in the office for another 5 hours because you can't handle bad news properly." Alec said. "Unless you really want to. If so, have at it."

Part of her did, and that part of her wanted to have Alec watch, just for the hell of it. But she would never tell anyone that, not in a million years.

A soldier behind her gasped once they turned to see Ben, and Max kept her eyes glued to the tray. She let out a shaky breath, and she stabbed the flesh with her fork.