Chapter 17 - Xander

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Fifty-six days before....


One hundred, fifty-seven days.

I approximated my stay to one hundred, fifty-seven days.

It took me a couple days to estimate and round all of the math, but I think I might have gotten it right. They tested stage three stomach cancer on me last night, which was fun, but I was able to remember the math until it was over. It was annoying because I almost passed out and forgot where I left off in my approximations every two seconds, but I made it through.

One hundred, fifty-seven days was too long to be in captivity. I knew captivity itself and the length I would be in it would eventually drive me insane, but I didn't picture myself being here this long.

I should have just killed myself as soon as they put their hands on me. I should have done in right in front of her, shown her what she had done to me by doing what she did. I should have spilled my blood on her perfect white carpet and watched as her pretty face twisted in horror.

I should have done it, but I didn't, because I couldn't believe she would do something like that to me. I loved her, and had hope in something that was nothing, and that's why I'm stuck here now. It was my fault for being weak, and I deserved what came in turn.

Within one hundred fifty-seven days, the human race found out more about my race and what we could do more than they ever had before. If I killed myself now, it wouldn't matter, because I already ruined everything. If I escaped, my people would have my head on a spike for the whole world to see. I would be labeled as a traitor and my family would most likely all be slaughtered, too. I was a disgrace to everyone who ever taught me about the world, and to everyone who helped me become who I was.

There is something wrong with me. I think that I have something wrong with my brain that I thought humanity was a good thing. I mean, how could you blame me? When people talk about humanity, they talk of feeding the poor or showing kindness to others. I thought humans were supposed to be kind, and that's what I saw in Eris.

Or, at least, I thought I did.

The last I saw of "humanity" was before that fateful day. I was so blind and stupid. I didn't know, but I still blamed myself everyday for not knowing. It wasn't my fault for not knowing fully how badly things could go, but I still should have had more precaution.

So stupid I was. I should have my head on a spike. That would be an honor compared to the complete disgrace I had done to my people.

At this point, there was no reason to leave. At least I was safe in here from them, but I wasn't safe from myself. I wasn't safe anywhere. If I stayed, I would be killed by either Project X or myself, and if I left, I would be killed by my own people. I was fucked, and I knew it.

But would it make a difference if I killed myself any sooner? Would the government find out any more about my species if I decided to hang around longer, or did they have enough? How much did they know, anyway? I tended not to hang around too long to attempt to listen to what they debriefed after each experiment as the white, sloshy noise in my ears made it hard and my body screamed at me to just let go. I had no idea what they knew. But it was probably enough.

The clear needle found its way in my arm again. The pain wasn't shocking, it hadn't been for weeks now. I didn't even blink.

"Injecting strain number two-one-six now, sir," a woman informed Balcom who was standing right next to her.

I didn't bother to look through the viewing glass. I hated this new room. If I thought it was bad before, it was even worse now. There was a new experimentation room where they would complete the experiments on me without even being in the same room as me. The whole room was this sterile, striking white, and this one bed lay in the center. Naturally, it was hard and basically indestructible, with three large claws that came around it to hold me in place. The walls were built to monitor my bodily functions as I lay in the bed, and there were mechanical arms hanging from the ceilings and sprouting from the walls that were able to be controlled through the computer on the other side of the glass. They didn't attempt with the mirror this time, though, which was nice. At least they were giving me some credit now.

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