Free (Dawn only)

         War. Pain. Poverty. Every time I close my eyes, scenes of destruction are imprinted in the dark spaces in my eyelids. I can't sleep. Not anymore. Not after what happened to me. My family. All dead. Me. Turned into a weapon. Carbon fiber under my skin like armor. 3 years of training, both mentally and physically. I can kill a man in under 10 seconds, using just my bare hands. Steal a car in 30 seconds. Lie better than most politicians. Pickpocket effortlessly. I am as silent and quick as a gust of wind in the night. I'm trained in a variety of weapons, and I have been taught to utilize them all with deadly force. Guns, blades, brass knuckles, as well as everyday objects such as pool cues and plastic drinking cups. I'm barely even human anymore. I was meant to have no emotion, to be a trained, heartless assassin, and the people who made me almost succeeded. There's only one person I care about anymore, and right now he's in the hospital. Gabriel. Like the Archangel. He's not like me, no one is, but he still cares about me. He's the one who saved my life, took a bullet for me. I can never repay him for this. He's the only one that doesn't want something from me.


         I scream into my teeth, stifling it, so all that comes out is a guttural groan. My cell is small, padded, and soundproof. It doesn't matter what I do, I can't get out. They subject me to my fears on a daily basis, trying to make me immune. I am claustrophobic, so they stuck me in a small, enclosed cell. I am terrified of water, so they make me swim for 4 hours a day. They are monsters, but then again, one could say the same about me.

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         The hospital is blindingly white. The people in it speak in boring, clinical voices. I hate it here. I've been in my fair share of hospitals, I'm always getting hurt on missions. I'm not indestructible, unfortunately. They had to make sure that I could be killed if I turned into too much of a liability. I wouldn't be here, but I have to visit Gabriel. I'm not usually allowed outside, but I guess they want me to get attached. Then all they have to do is put his life in danger and I will have to do what they say. It's twisted, but a bit brilliant, in a way. I have a tracker implanted in my heart (By some scientific miracle, I survived that bright idea), so in order to get it out, I would literally have to kill myself. It doesn't sound so bad, but I'm not that courageous.

          I knock on the hospital room door and enter when a nurse opens it. Gabriel is seemingly asleep on the bed. I know he isn't, his breathing isn't right, it's a little too fast, but he has the nurse fooled. She taps my shoulder and puts a finger to her lips, warning me to be quiet. She then exits, muttering about him not being able to take his medicine. I quietly shut the door behind me, walk to the window, and sit down in a chair.

"She's gone." His eyes slide open almost instantly, just a fraction of an inch. I can see his stormy gray eyes adjust to the light, his pupils shrinking ever so slightly. They focus on me and slip the rest of the way open. He sits up, running a hand through his curly black hair.

"I thought she would never leave. I'm so tired of taking medicine that knocks me out for 3 hours."
His voice is smooth, another sign he wasn't really sleeping.

"Well, how do you ever expect to get out of here? You do have to take your medicine, or they'll never release you."

"Oh well, they'll have to eventually won't they?"

"Can you even breathe without being plugged up to a machine yet?"

"Nope." He cracks a wide smile, slightly crooked.

"Yet another reason to take your medicine."

         I cross my arms, and he laughs at my indignant expression. He opens his mouth to say something else but is cut off by a shrill scream outside. I frown, rise, and walk to the door to check what's going on, but he grabs my arm, pulling me back. His normally gentle gray eyes are hard, like 2 pieces of stone.

"They're here. Maybe they won't find us."

         Every muscle in his arm is tensed. I know immediately who "they" means, so I don't question it. In seconds, though, men and women clothed all in black bust through the door, guns at the ready. I do some quick calculations, and I would say we're outnumbered 10 to 1. There's no way to escape, no way to win. So we wait. I have my arms up, and Gabriel is sitting back. A large man walks into the room, chuckling at the scene. He points to a plug on the wall. One of the soldiers goes over to the plug, and then it hits me. That plug keeps Gabriel alive. I have to do something.

"Wait!" I yell. Everyone pauses. "What do you want from us?"

          The leader turns to me with a look of disgust. Like he can't believe someone could be so stupid.

"You need to see this. Part of your training."

"You're going to kill him as part of my training? What is wrong with you?" Maybe I can buy time.

"Everything and nothing. You should know that by now." He laughs at me, making my blood boil. Gabriel grabs my hand, beckoning me closer. Pulls my head down so he can whisper in my ear.

"Don't be what they made you. You're better than that."

         Our eyes meet, tears in mine. His hands come up, cupping my chin, and he touches his lips to mine. I wrap my arms around him, fight to keep the tears from slipping down my cheeks, and the heart monitor goes dead. And Gabriel dies in my arms.


         I scream and launch myself at the nearest soldier, a middle-aged woman with brown hair. She goes down easy, and her gun isn't hard to pry from her hands. I shoot again and again, emptying the clip. All that's left is destruction. There is only one person left alive, the man who laughed at me earlier. I aim my gun carefully. This is one shot I don't want to miss. When I squeeze the trigger though, the barrel makes a hollow clicking sound. I drop the gun, drop to my knees, and give up. Accept defeat. I'm nothing now. I will go back to the lab, live out my life in chaos, and be forgotten later. A tiny part of me might be able to accept that. But the other part of me roars, the vengeful part of me, the part of me that will make them pay. I wait until he is directly behind me, then roll behind a cabinet. As he is coming to grab me, I dive between his legs, hitting the bedframe and jumping up. He didn't have time to move before his neck snapped. It was clean, efficient. I might even say flawless.


         I search through the bodies until I find a set of keys. They belong to an armored SUV, all black and conspicuous looking. The engine roars to life, and I'm gone. I'll never kill for anyone again. I'd rather die first.