Test Subject 17

3. Memories

(THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN REVISED. REREAD TO SEE WHAT CHANGED AND WHAT HAPPENS!!)

Our minds seem to have two purposes in this world. To keep us sane and happy as good things go through our heads, and to haunt us forever when we make mistakes. The memories can strike at the worst of times too. We could be with someone we really like, and we're reminded of the things we did wrong. Or want to fade away from life, then bam. We have reasons to live.

I never would have expected them to actually give us life...

She sits up quickly, despite my attempts to make her fall asleep, and turns around and looks at me. Our eyes lock and I can almost see the pain in her heart. Hard to miss it actually, it stains her clothes.

She stands up, backing up to the door, and runs out. I hate chasing people, I really do. I know I'm supposed to be working, technically, but still. This is too much. I jump out of the bed and run after her, nearly tripping down the stairs as I try to catch up. She turns around and heads for the back door. Why won't she just let me kill her? I want to go home already.

I reach the bottom of the steps and she stares at me, opening the door and running out. I groan in irritation and go after her. 'Did this girl use to run track?!' My long legs make it easy to keep up, but I still run out of breath tearing through the woods. I can hear the girl's labored breathing as her steps become less coordinated and she begins slowing down. A sadistic grin covers my face as the space between us lessens.

The girl trips over something and falls to her hands and knees, a loud 'ow' coming from her. She attempts to crawl away inconspicuously. I shake my head at her weak try for escape. "I wouldn't do that if I were you miss." She glances back at me, my run slowing to a walk. Despite my warning, she keeps crawling. I reach for a stick on the ground, probably what tripped her, and break it in half. I throw one each at her hands, grazing the skin slightly.

She halts and looks at me, terrified. When I get to her, she backs up with her hands, trying to get away still. I glance at the way she moves and I can see the natural curves of her body. My jaw tightens as a weird urge to touch them creeps into my mind.

She stares back at me. Fear washing over her in waves, over and over again, beating with her no doubt rapid heart.

Those beautiful honey eyes begin to glow a navy blue as she crawls away from me. She glances behind her as she bumps into a tree. "Listen. This will be quick and painless if you let me do my job. I don't want to hurt you more than I have to, but will if you force me," I say, trying to assure her.

The girl looks terribly familiar, but I can't place where or why. Something about the way she looks at me... makes me feel like a kid again, but all that comes with that is the years of harsh training and many killings. I blink and look down, hoping that whatever this is fades.

I'm a killer, not a hopeless romantic or the kid I used to be. I'm not afraid of anything anymore. No, never will I be like that again...

The glow fades from her eyes as tears run down her red cheeks from the sight chill in the air. Her breath hadn't returned from running away. I reach the girl's feet and she pulls them away. A sigh leaned me and I take a few more steps and kneel in front of her, wiping the tears.

Why do I care about her stupid bodily fluids?! Clenching my teeth, I examine her face, trying not to wipe the new tears that had now replaced the old ones.

"W-why? What are you doing this f-for?" She stares at me fearfully. I can see it in her posture, the way she cowers against the tree, and for some reason, it makes my chest hurt. What do people call this again? Heartache or heartbreak? Maybe pity? More importantly, why do I have it?!