redemption
I’m not a monster. I never was. I was just doing my job. Now I don’t have my job, and I spend my days just staring at the ceiling of the most secure, hi-tech prison in the entire world. Sometimes, the wall, sometimes the floor, all white tile. Except for the wall with the door, which is also white, unfortunately.
I haven’t had a real meal in what feels like centuries but might actually be months. I’m so thin, my bones look vacuum-sealed in my skin, courtesy of the slop that’s delivered through a mechanical arm from the ceiling every once in a while.
Mentally, I’m not doing any better. Images of the incident replay in my mind over and over, like a never-ending film. The explosion, the screams, the utter chaos will forever be burned into my memory. Especially the part where two hefty soldiers grabbed my arms, and hauled me to prison, no matter how much I begged and pleaded for them to understand.
I stare at the wall, in a feeble attempt to will it into becoming a projector screen, where I can let my imagination run wild. But not too wild—they don’t like that.
“Get up.” A voice shocks me out of my spiraling thoughts. I obey. Not because I want to, but because I have done it so many times before it has become routine. They will not be gentle if I do not listen. Two pairs of strong arms grip mine—a familiar yet unwanted feeling, and I am being hoisted onto my feet. I do not even care to register who voiced the command, since my shaky breaths and spotty vision are my top priority currently. I am being transported. My gaze wanders to my legs, dragging across the floor like limp noodles. I see four—no, six. There are supposed to be two.
I am not-so-gently placed into a wooden chair. As my vision stills, I notice a man before me, clad in a black suit with slacks to match. Shined shoes. Polished, refined, sharp. The definition of perfection. The Director. They have brought me here for a reason, not to free me. “Violet.” My name leaves his lips like a curse. A nasty thing he should ball up and toss in the bin. Like something who is not worthy. I believe I once was. “Yes?” I reply, berating my voice into remaining steady.
“Do you want to know why I brought you here today?” He asks, walking over to me. “Yes,” I say. No, I do not you ignorant, cruel jerk, I don’t say.
“I need your help.” He says simply. I hear footsteps, so I ignore the man and turn my head towards the sound. Two soldiers drag in two newcomers. One burly man who looks like he could snap both guards in half, and a young girl, who looks about the same age as me. She has thin wire glasses, which perfectly compliment her wiry frame. “Look at me.” The man commands, using two fingers to guide my attention back onto his words and his stupid, stupid face.
The newcomers are carelessly shoved into seats beside mine as the man continues talking. “Mal has returned.”
Three words I hoped I would never hear. Mal, or Mal Wear, the cause of my downfall, has returned.
“No…” I practically whisper.
“Oh, yes.” Stupid Man snarks.
I share a glance with Big Man, who just shrugs. “My soldiers and I thought it was best to create a small but elite force to permanently eradicate Mal. This operation is highly confidential, so the public shall remain unperturbed.”
He walks over to me. “Violet Black. You have been chosen for your past experience in the Intelligence Agency. You are to be our strategist.” He conveniently forgets to mention my forced resignation (firing and imprisoning). Funny.
His gaze shifts to Big Man. “Rudy Hawkins. You have been chosen for your incredible strength. You are to be our cover.” Big Man nods once. Stupid Man saunters over to Glasses Girl, who doesn’t even look up at him. “And you, Sheila Agrawal. You have been chosen for your knowledge in the field of artificial intelligence. You are to be our hacker.” She hums in acknowledgement as Stupid Man strides over to a whiteboard and points to words I do not care enough to read.
“This is the plan. Get ready, we have a lot of preparation to do.” Of course we do. I let a small sigh escape my lips. I had hoped for freedom. Instead, I simply got yard time.
Stupid Man— or well, The Director— explains that Mal is cunning and likes to leave clues of his crimes like a trail of breadcrumbs for people to follow. I already knew this. Stupid Man reveals that Mal has left a clue regarding their current location. It reads: You can find me where the wind blows a gentle breeze through titanic lips and the ground dances to a melody of its own making. The sky is falling. It makes no sense. Unfortunately, it is my job to decipher it.
“I can try to find Mal using online databases. I can scan the internet for these specific phrases to see if I get a—” Sheila never gets a chance to finish her sentence before Stupid Man rudely interrupts her. “Go ahead,” He drawls, waving a dismissive hand.
I sit down next to her. “It’s okay,” I say quietly. “Go ahead and run your search. I’ll be here if you need help.”
She smiles and nods. Warmth fills my chest.
I spend hours reading and rereading the stupid words on the board in a futile attempt to decipher the stupid Mal code. In the agency, I never had to do such tasks. My missions were purely based on decisions made on impulse.
Day after day, the Mal Code began to blur into a mishmash of incomprehensible letters. What a delectable addition of flavor to my reoccurring nightmares of the incident. Everything is beginning to blend together.
Wind. Gentle breeze. Titanic lips. Ground dances. Falling.
Garden. Dancing. Falling. The Adventure Center.
Mal is hiding in the Adventure Center.
“I found them…” I breathe, and Stupid Man looks up from whatever conversation he was having with a soldier. “You did? Where?” He hurries over and I walk over to Sheila, who I have recently befriended. “Pull up the address of the Adventure Center.” Sheila obeys, and we set off on our journey, with Rudy in the lead, brandishing an abnormally large machine gun.
As we’re walking through the city, I can’t help but admire my surroundings. It’s entrancing, really. Like a figment of my imagination. After living in a box for months, the outside world feels like heaven. The clouds dance in the sky like a strangely perfectly choreographed symphony just for me. The moment is shattered as Stupid Man falls into step beside me. I say nothing.
“We’re more similar than you think, you know,” he says, keeping his gaze trained forward. “You’re a liar.” I reply, my eyes roaming over the dream-like clouds above. He just shrugs. “You think you’re a monster. I know I am. We have the preconceived notion—” Stupid Man’s rant was interrupted by a loud explosion too close for comfort. That’s when I realize Stupid Man and I were alone. Rudy and Sheila are nowhere to be found.
Where are they? Where did they go?
Explosions. Pandemonium. Chaos.
The building came crashing down. It was in flames, the crowd was in flames, everything was—
No, this can’t be happening again.
It can’t be.
Panic overtakes my resentment towards Stupid Man. “Rudy? Sheila—” I call out. My voice rises in volume and pitch. “RUDY? SHE—” A large silhouette emerges from a thick smoke. Rudy. His body looked battered. He was carrying something, which I strained my eyes to identify. A limp body. With wiry glasses askew. His expression was grim.
Sheila. They killed Sheila.
A single rivulet of blood streamed down her face. Down her forehead, past her cracked glasses, it trickled all
the way
down.
“No…” I say, the words barely escaping my lips. I begin to rush over to Rudy, but Stupid Man grabs my shoulder. I don’t even feel his fingers’ tight grip. “Don’t. It’s not worth it.” Yes, it is. I want to scream at him. She was my only friend after months in the dark. I wanted to tell him. “Okay.” I say, voice shaking.
Sheila is dead. My only friend. I want to run to her, to wipe the blood from her face, hold her, tell her we can fix this.
This can’t be real.
I try to pry his hand off my shoulder, his grip tightens. “There’s nothing you can do.” He says, spinning me so I’m facing him. I can’t help but think part of this is my fault. Like the incident. Those innocent souls got killed the same way.
All because of me.
He’s right, there’s nothing I can do.
“Let me go, I want to see Rudy,” I plead, desperation lacing my words. “No.” he replies simply. I try again. “Let me go, I want to see my friend.”
“There are no friends. We are merely a team. A unit. One fallen member doesn’t mean have an emotional breakdown.” He says the last part condescendingly, like it’s wrong to feel emotions.
“She was my friend…” I breathe, the tremor in my voice becoming more prominent. “Stop moaning. We have a mission to complete. We have no time to feel.” I swallow the lump of unsaid words in my throat and nod. Rudy gentles Sheila into an abandoned shed nearby, and we continue our mission. Stupid Man doesn’t seem to mind that a crucial member of the team—and Sheila—got killed.
But this mission offers me an opportunity I never thought I’d get. Redemption.
We continue our path to the Adventure Center, careful of more potential threats. I can feel Stupid Man’s foreboding presence behind me, way too close for comfort. “We are very similar, Violet. You just don’t know it yet.”
I grit my teeth. “No. We. Are. Not.” The Director seems very set on his opinion. “You are a broken girl, Violet. Your past will always haunt you, and you will always believe it was your fault for exploding that building. You were only doing your job.” My face pales. How dare he bring up the incident. He shrugs. “Like me. Killing all those innocent souls because our country cannot afford to sustain them. You were merely performing a task you were ordered to perform.”
“No…” I shake my head. How dare he bring up my past.
“You defeated Mal in the past and saved hundreds of thousands of lives.”
“I am a killer.” I reply adamantly. “I am a monster.”
“You are not a monster. Just a victim of your own mind.” My face twists in outrage and my steps come to an abrupt halt. “Are you calling me insane?”
“Not insane. Feeling.” He stops in front of me. “You let your guilt and doubt cloud your mind. It will only make this task harder, so I need you to push it out, or lock it away in a dark corner of your mind, understand?”
I am appalled. Him and his soldiers locked me away. Starved me. Tortured me. Gave me nothing but white walls and spiraling thoughts — and now he’s telling me to stop being emotional? How thoughtful.
“You are not a monster,” He repeats. “I just need you to understand. I’ve done things too. And if I hadn’t, the government would’ve fallen apart at the seams. The economy—crumbled. Infrastructure—destroyed.” He takes a step closer, which causes me to involuntarily step back. “Sometimes we need to sacrifice things for the bigger picture.”
How dare he compare himself to me. A small voice in my head tells me he may be right. Maybe I’m not a monster. Maybe my work was for the greater good. Maybe I shouldn’t waste my time grieving over Sheila. My thoughts are spiraling. Fragments of the incident replay, but a flicker of hope colors my thoughts.
We have a mission to complete.
Redemption.
“You’re right,” I finally say, resuming my walking once again. “Let’s eliminate Mal.” A lazy smirk forms on his face. “Good. We need you, Violet. For humanity.” He falls into step with me once again. Rudy finally speaks up. “Let’s go.” I glance around, my eyes flicking over my surroundings. I guess Stupid Man saw my wariness, so he brandishes a pistol from his perfectly tailored suit. Great. More weapons, more comfort.
“Fools.”
A deep voice slices through the air like a knife. I whip around and come face-to-face with a man cloaked in a dark tunic and a mask.
Mal.
“Try all you want, but you’ll never defeat me.”
“Mal.” Stupid Man growls.
“That’s me.” He chuckles. I am frozen with fear. Mal. My downfall. My redemption. I lunge forward at Mal, pinning their shoulders behind their back. They kick me in the thigh. An inhumanly loud cry tears through me and I tighten my grip on him. “Get him!” I call out to Rudy, and he squeezes the trigger on his machine gun. I shut my eyes, trying to block out the sound and the blood spattering my clothes. He struggles a bit before going fully limp.
The image of Sheila’s unmoving body flashes through my mind.
I drop Mal’s limp body to the floor.
I watch with horror.
“C’mon. Our work here is done.” Stupid Man gently grabs my arm—gentler than his previous treatment of me. I don’t even feel it. Something inside me feels empty, incomplete. The three of us begin to walk back. Well, I limp slightly. I can’t help but think of Sheila. What if she was here? Would this have gone differently if she didn’t get shot? We continue walking, an awkward silence blooming between us, punctuated by the crunch of gravel.
Boom.
I suddenly get blown back by a large explosion, slamming me back like a freight train. Stupid Man is flung with me. Rudy is nowhere to be seen. My vision is blurred. My ears are ringing. I can’t feel my body. The Director grabs my shoulders. “Violet. Violet. VIOLET!” He shakes me gently, trying to will my body into cooperating again. I blink. Once. Twice. Three times.
“You saved lives. You are not a monster.”
The world begins to tremble. My conscience begins to bleed. My eyes shut fully.
They open.
I’m back in prison. My leg is void of any pain. My clothes are clean. A realization hit me like a ton of bricks.
None of it was real.
Rudy, Sheila, The Director—none of it really existed.
I had been living my dreams through delusion. I did not have my redemption.
I sit there in quiet acceptance, my gaze boring into the familiar white wall.
I am still a monster.
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