Soul's Eye

Chapter 11: Before the Silence

~Abel Ahren~

I didn't know how long it had been since I'd last woken up.

Maybe a day. Maybe less.

The ground was, as usual, cold, but today the air was frozen and the silence heavier than ever.

Even Lio couldn't think of anything to say. He remained huddled against the wall, arms around his knees, eyes unblinking. As if he'd lost something.

Isen, next door, had been up all night, or at least what he thought was night. Erine watched the ceiling, distant, as strange as ever, as if listening to a sound the others couldn't hear.

As for me...

I was fading a little more by the hour.

Since Egnel's departure, something had changed. It felt like a silent countdown. No one dared admit it, but we all knew that the next one would be one of us.

Erine's voice sounded like a hammer in the deathly silence of our little group.

They were coming. The door creaked loudly, then silhouettes appeared in the frame.

Three guards entered. Not a word was spoken, not a sound made, just the sound of their footsteps echoing through the room, heavier than ever.

The finger of one of them moved, slid, then landed on someone.

Time seemed to expand, and my heartbeat echoed in my temples like clockwork.

Nil stood up abruptly. Isen put his hand on my shoulder. Instinctively, I took a breath.

But it wasn't for me.

"Lio", I unconsciously pronounced his name.

He turned to look at me. He didn't understand right away.

The guards approached him, overtaking me, and grabbed him. He struggled. He screamed. He begged. He screamed our names. My name.

But I just stood there.

Petrified. As if my legs had betrayed me.

As if the whole universe had been suspended.

My mind trembled with each of her cries. I felt as if my mind would explode.

His voice trailed off. Then nothing.

After that, silence swallowed us.

I had spent long hours staring at the ground. I felt tired, but I didn't want to sleep.

It had been a long time since anyone had spoken, and without realizing it, I had fallen into the arms of Morpheus.

When I woke up, nothing had changed. No one was talking, the room was still silent, except for the sound of footsteps approaching.

Erine had fallen asleep next to Nil, who was watching the door.

He gave me a tired look, then the door creaked.

Unlike before, I could no longer hear my heart beating wildly.

I was scared, terrified, but resigned.

Whatever was waiting for me behind that door, I'd face it.

The three guards had returned.

I turned to look them in the eye.

A single thought kept running round and round in my head. If by some miracle I made it out of there, I'd kill them, I'd put them through some nameless hell.

The finger, as if guided by fate, landed on me.

The world froze. Nil whispered my name. Isen leapt to his feet, but a guard held a gun to his chin. They weren't taking any chances.

I stood up, completely indifferent. I no longer felt fear or sadness. Instead, I was filled with a wave of anger, rage and hatred.

Against them, but also against myself.

I moved forward, meeting the eyes of my friends.

Nil, Isen, Erine. I let out a sincere smile, tears in my eyes.

"See you later."

I followed them toward the exit without putting up any resistance.

I watched them put chains on my wrists and pull me toward a hallway.

The door closed behind me and I suddenly felt as if I'd entered another world.

The filth and suffocating darkness of the cage had disappeared. Before me stretched a long, immaculate corridor, bathed in pale light. The air was cold, sanitized, almost artificial.

I squinted, dazzled by the neon lights dotting the ceiling. Everything here seemed too clean, too quiet... But something was wrong behind this clinical facade.

My parched throat burned from shortness of breath. My wrists, chained behind my back, burned under the pressure of the bonds. My body, drained by fatigue, moved slowly forward.

With each step, the cold ground bit into my bare feet.

As we advanced, a dull roar echoed in the walls, as if the whole corridor were the belly of a beast ready to swallow me. Our footsteps echoed endlessly, occasionally interspersed with muffled cries. Rails. Pleas. Then, sometimes, silence.

A silence more terrifying than the screams themselves.

My heart sank. I could only imagine what they were going through.

Suddenly, the man turned and stopped in front of a door on our right, which he opened.

The room we had just entered was just like the corridor: white, impure and cold.

In the center was an operating table surrounded by strange devices on which snake-length tubes were placed.

The air was denser. The air was charged with a metallic odor that stung the nose.

A deep, almost mechanical voice pierced the silence like a cold blade.

"Lay subject 37 down. Prepare him for the infusion."

"Infusion?"

Without giving me time to understand, I was abruptly lifted onto the central table.

A shiver ran down my spine as my back hit the icy surface.

The next thing I knew, my wrists and ankles were immobilized by metal restraints.

I was a prisoner.

The man who had dragged me this far stepped aside slightly, then grabbed a syringe from a small steel table.

It contained a yellowish, translucent liquid. But not quite.

As he turned it slightly under the neon light, I caught a glimpse of an iridescent, almost life-like sheen rippling across the surface of the liquid.

'What's that?'

A cold sweat trickled down the back of my neck.

My eyes darted from the syringe to the man, searching for... Something. A hesitation. A doubt. A flaw, however small.

I hoped he would change his mind. That a miracle would happen. That he'd help me.

As if that were possible!

The man stared at me, syringe in hand. Still no emotion. No anger either. No satisfaction either. Not even curiosity.

His empty gaze didn't concern me. It went right through me.

His face was smooth, devoid of the slightest tension, like that of a doll carrying out a programmed command.

A shiver of horror ran through me. I was already dead and he was just following protocol.

He lifted the syringe.

I tried to move. To struggle. But my own body refused to obey me.

My limbs were heavy, inert. As if something inside me had already accepted the inevitable.

A hoarse whisper escaped my lips:

"Wait..."

No reaction.

The needle shone one last time in the harsh light. Then it sank into my flesh.