I've had this idea for awhile and now I'm getting to write it. This may have trigger warnings, Be warned. Anyway here it is.


494 walked behind Lydecker, keeping his head high and his steps even. Ten years old and going on his first mission ever, he was scared, but a bit happy to. Now maybe his unit would like him again. He kept up the pace and followed Lydecker into a small room. Lydecker turned and looked down at him, he was much taller than 494, his stare making the little boy gulp.

"Do you know why your hear 494," He asked. The little boy shook his head, his green eyes looking curiously around.

"Your here 494 because your going to have to prove yourself to Manticore, you have to prove your loyal," He said firmly. "Do you understand."

"Sir yes Sir," The little boy said loudly.

"Alright then, you have to be willing to follow orders down to the exact.. that's what it takes to be a good Soldier," Lydecker said turning away, looking toward a door on the other side of the room. The door opened and a two men walked in, another man being held between them, wearing a prison suit.

"This is your first mission 494."

"Permission to speak Sir," The child asked. The old man nodded.

"Why? What am I supposed to do," He asked innocently.

"Your going to follow orders 494. Its my understanding that you missed a previous exercise, medical reasons," The man asked. 494 shuddered, remembering the doctors moving around him.

"Yes Sir."

"Well to day you are going to complete it, your going to kill this man 494," Lydecker said firmly. 494's eyes widened, turning his attention to the man in front of him. He had brown eyes and blond hair, a scar going down his left cheek. But his brown eyes were full of unshed tears, something 494 had never seen. His blond hair was kept long, hanging over his ears, 494 liked that, letting your hair grow over you ears.

"Permission to speak Sir," The boy asked again a bit hesitantly.

"Granted."

"Do I have to.."

Lydecker looked cross, and that scared him. He took a small step back, hoping to not get the brunt of the mans anger.

"Your going to do this 494, or else you won't be needed, your expendable 494 do you know that, you mean nothing," The man said harshly.

The boy brought his eyes to the man again, a few tears escaped rolling down his cheeks and past his scar. He couldn't talk, the tape around his mouth made it impossible. Maybe it was survival tactic, trying to seem weak to your enemy in hope of mercy.

"Here," Lydecker pulled a small pistol out of the back of his pants, putting the gun in the boys small hands. The weight was normal for him now, and until this moment 494 had never been scared of guns.

"Raise your weapon and fire, that's an order 494," The man commanded.

The small boy shook slightly, as he turned toward the man. He held the gun up and aimed, hesitating. Before something thumped him hard in the shoulder, he yelped and pulled the trigger.

A shot rung out, a grunt of pain. 494 stared with his mouth open, wide eyes staring at the man. He was still alive, laying on the floor with a puddle of crimson gathering around his chest.

"No! No, I take it back," He yelled.

"You can't take it back 494," Lydecker said firmly.

"I take it back, No!" He screamed, his little chest heaving up and down. Lydecker took this opportunity and crouched down to the boys level.

"Good job 494, your a killer now. Do you understand, your a killer."

"I take it Back!"


Alec jolted awake, sitting up and looking wildly around his room. The now nineteen year old transgenic shook and heaved, trying to get his breath. His eyes were wet with tears, crying was something he eventually got used to, still seeing it as his weakness. In fact he cried for the first time in his life that exact day. He collapsed back into his bed, trying to catch his breath. He shut his eyes tight and balled his fist, slamming them into the mattress.

"X5-494's dead," he told himself. "He died in the fire at the Wyoming Manticore base."

That's what he did. He told himself 494 died at the fire and he was someone completely different now. Maybe his brother, but his brother was dead, his real brother.

He rose up and wiped the sleep from his eyes, holding his head in his hands a second. He didn't know how much longer he could go like this, he's only been out half a year. He couldn't do this, it hurt to bad. At Manticore he could shut it all out and forget or pretend what he was doing was justified. But out here he couldn't escape it, he couldn't run away. He had tried to end it, begged Beresford to shoot him, to put the bullet between his eyes. But Max saved him, she killed 494. He was sick of waking up from nightmares, sick of pretending he was OK. He just wanted to end it.

He should just suck it up and do it himself, there were so many options, more than he had in life. He didn't understand it, everything was going great, they had been granted citizenship. The new mayor was a huge transgenic supporter, he wanted to help them as much as he could, which was little strange but he wasn't complaining. The mayor supplied formula for the babies and medicine for the seizures. The dude was even treating the older soldiers, the X5's, like veterans.. were they. He didn't get it.. at all.

He flipped on his bathroom light and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was pale and had dark circles under his eyes, he was a wreak. He could see himself, his face split into broken pieces, he never had replaced the mirror he broke after Rachel. Rachel is dead because of him to, because he's a killer.

He looked around the bathroom, pills and razors.. what was keeping him here. What was the point, he was nothing. He just stared at all the tools he could use, before sinking down onto the floor, sitting up against the wall. He took a deep breath, but it didn't work. His eyes blurred with tears and he brought his knee's up to his chest. He was acting like a child and scolded himself mentally, he was a soldier for crying out loud, no pun intended.


Please review and tell me what you think, I'll write the next chapter soon but my supernatural series is my top priority.