The Survivor

Chapter 30

Come morning, I quickly get dressed. My army cargo pants, and a black shirt, along with my black cargo boots. I grab my knife and wrap it around my belt. Grab my gun and tuck it in my pants and cover it with my shirt.
I head down stairs, it's about 6:30. No ones up yet, they won't be for a while. On Saturdays they normally sleep in till 9-9:30. I start to write them a note. The note reading, 'Hello family. Last night will be the last time you have ever seen me. I have been called back into the military. It's not with General Logan. Go to Dr.Miller at 12:30, she will tell you everything that you need to know. I'm sorry that I'm leaving you like this. Addison and John, I wish you two the best of luck. Last thing, bring Tiffany with you to Dr.Miller. Thanks for being my family,
Love,
Mace Denver.'
Once I'm done writing it, I can't help but have a tear fall. I don't want to do this, yet, I can't watch my family die. What kind of person would that make me then? I would be a real killer. As I'm walking out I grab the keys to Jess's red convertible Corvette and I make my way into the city.
The drive there feels still. I know that I'm going to hate and regret everything that's going to happen. But it will all be worth it. As long as my family is safe, it will all be ok.

I pull up to the building and walk inside to the front desk. As I walk in, no one is at the front desk so I make my way to the elevator and up to Dr.Miller's room.
I walk up to her door and knock. I hear someone get up and turn the handle. "I apologize for this," I tell her. This isn't fair for her. "But I really appreciate it," I add. "Of course, come on in and have a seat," she welcomes. I walk in and take a seat. "Did you get my text message?" I ask her. "I did, I cleared my day," she answers. I nod my head. "Let's begin, shall we?"

As I'm leaving the room I pull out my phone and call Hassan. As it's ringing It stops, meaning that he picked up. "I know you can see me you ass hole," I pause for a moment and sigh. "I'm ready. I'll be your soldier. Just don't you ever touch my family, those around them, and other people that I know," I command.
"Of course. I would never go against my word. But you must hold up your end of the bargain princess," he adds. I nod. Right away, there's a black SUV that pulls up in front of me. A man steps out. He has fair white skin and black hair. He stands at about 6'2, he's wearing a black suit and black sunglasses. "Step in," he orders.
I do as he says and hop in the car. The ride there is painful. I'm in the middle seat. There's two men on either side of me, and two in the back. Along with the two in the front. It's taking me everything not to fight back. We're in the car for about five hours, no one, daring to make a move.
They know that I'm the one that escaped and that I could easily take them down in a heartbeat. But I won't move for my family's sake. We end up pulling up into an abandoned airplane take off padding. Once we come to a stop, the men step out of the car. To my right the man from before orders me, "Step out of the car." His voice is deep and raspy.

I comply and I Step out of the car. As I step out, I can tell that I'm not in Texas. There's nothing around me for miles on end. Not a building, not a person, not even a bird is in sight. There's a jet where I can see Hassan waiting for me. "Hello there," he smiles. I bet he loves this, he brings pleasure from watching other people suffer. He's sick, and I have to kill for this sick man.
What if I just killed him? I could end it all. But if I were to fail, everyone would die. I sigh, giving up with fighting back. "No bags?" He asks. "No," I tell him. "No?..." He asks. I sigh again and straighten up my back. "Sir no sir," I yell. "And.." What does this man want? I salute him, but not out of respect. That, he will never have.
I hop into the jet and surprisingly, it's really nice. The brims are gold, and the four seats are leather. There's a table in the back made of dark oak. On the table is a lamp, scattered papers, and a chess board. To the right is a bar with an assortment of beverages. "Please, take a seat," Hassan states, pushing me into the plane. There's no turning back now.
I walk in and take a seat on the left side, the one that's up against the wall. About five men follow in the plane after me and Hassan. Two sit on the right side of the plane. To stand by the wooden desk, and the other one is in the doorway. "Everyone, please buckle up and get ready for our flight back home," the pilot says in Persian.
Great, fifteen hours and 23 minutes till we get there. The first hour is silent, no one daring to say a word. I wouldn't dare to move unless spoken to. Hassan ends up making his way over to the bar from his desk. "Would you like a drink?" He offers. I don't know if I should say yes, but I decided to just keep quiet.

"No? Well if you change your mind, it's here," he reassures me. I watch him pour himself a drink and walk over to me. He sits down across from me and takes a sip. As I'm staring into his eyes, I can see the monster that lives there. "So, I'm curious," he starts. "What made you change your mind? When you killed your teammates, you didn't care. However, when it came to your family, you did it in less than twenty-four hours."
I squeeze my hands tight. I squeeze them so tight that my knuckles turn white and my fingernails break the skin. "I asked you a question," he says, growing angrier. "I knew what you would do to them," I tell him. I can see a smile creep up on his face.
Normally, I would fight him, but my family's life is on the line. "Were you teammates not your family?" He asks. "Excuse me?" I question him. I stand up but as soon as I do, I get that same electric shock that runs through my body. Making me fall to the ground on my hands and knees. I let out a grunt, trying not to be seen as weak.
"I have complete control over you. If you disobey an order," I get another electric shock, but this time it's stronger. "If you show any sign of disrespect," again another shock. Just like last time, it's worse. Thankfully it ends up going away but the after shock leaves me stunned and numb.
I look up to see Hassan with a big grin on his face. He kneels down and with his left hand he lifts up my chin. It takes everything from me not to spit in his face. "Don't go against me. Understand?" He threatens. "Yes sir," I comply.
"Good, now we have to give you a new name. This may take some rebuilding, but the process has already begun." The process? What does he mean by that? Damn it! I hate this! I bite my tongue to ensure that I don't say anything.
Hassan stands up and dusts off his pants. I stumble up, my legs feel like jelly. Like when you sit on your foot weird for too long and you get pins and needles all over. Hassan walks over to his desk and takes a seat in his black leather chair. He scoots himself in closer to the desk. I slowly walk over, and he pulls something out of one of the drawers.
"Come," he orders. I walk over and stand in front of the desk. He opens up a file and show's me dessine pictures of an outfit. It's a black leather suit with holsters everywhere. The back has holders for swords and there's a belt that wraps around the waist. By the looks of it the belt has holders for bombs, knives, ammo, everything you could ever need.
There's a black and green shemagh wrapped around the head, only revealing the eyes. The suit covers every inch of the body. "The boot's have storage for knives in them and if you were to stomp the back heel, there's a built-in toe knife. The shemagh is so no one will notice you. It'll keep everyone safe," he tells me.
"The entire thing is made out of leather. The belt has holders for grenades, ammo, knives, everything. The gloves are for," "Finger print," I interrupt. "Very good, my soldier. I will be deploying you all over to the world. I expect you to check in before and after the mission. You will also need a new name." He stops to think for a moment, and then I have an idea.
"If I may speak, sir?" I ask cautiously. "You may," he grants. "What about the Looloo, or other known as Khor Khoreh?" I suggest. "It's childrens knightmares, I would assume that it fits," I tell him. "Khor Khoreh," he says to himself. "I like it. Nice work Khor Khoreh." Time to truly kill my old self. Until there's nothing but hair left behind.

After fifteen and a half hours, we finally land. We land on the roof of the building where it all began. The building is made up of complete concrete. There's nothing around this place except for sand and army men and vehicles. As we get out, I follow Hassan into the building. I have two guards in front of me and two guards behind me.
They're clearly scared about what I can do and what I'm capable of. The moment I walk through that door fear washes over me. I end up freezing in my place, completely petrified. "Keep it moving!" The guard behind me yells. I get my act together and force my legs to walk.
As I'm walking down the halls of the concrete, windowless building, the memories start flooding my brain. I push it back and try to focus on just being present. As we're walking we go into a hall with big metal doors. Cells. We stop at one cell that reads: Cell 218. The same cell as before.
Hassan opens the door and puts his hand out. Referring to me to go in. I obliged and walk into my old cell. I turn around to face Hassan. I hate this I hate this I hate this.
"This is where you will be staying. The box on your bed, try it on. Someone will come get you in about thirty minutes," he says, then closes the door with a bang. I jump back a little, I take a deep breath and count to thirty-five. "One, two, three," and so forth. Once I'm done I take in my surrounding. There's a toilet in the corner and an open sink with a mirror above it. I walk over to the bed in the corner of the room. The bed is more of a green cot with stains. And just like everything else in this building, it's all concrete except for the metal door. There's no windows, I only saw like five walking down here.
I expect the box on the cot and open it up with caution. It's the black suit that Gener- or Hassan showed me. I put it on, I slide on the black leather suit on me, and surprisingly, it fits perfectly to my body. I grab the boots and put them on. They hug my feet but not too tight.
How did he get my size so perfectly? I grab the gloves and slide them on, the left hand has the fingers cut off and on the back of the glove, there's an opening. Revealing the back of my hand and the palm. "Why have one hand with fingers and the other without?" I ask myself. I grab the shemagh and wrap it around my face. It's a soft material, it's como greens with some black mixed in. I walk over to the mirror and look at myself. I look... different. I don't even know who I am anymore.