"Can we live without death? Can we love without hate? Can we want without need? Do we ever really live our lives enough to appreciate that we can never truly grasp one without the other? For the concept has no meaning without an opposing force. If hate is what's inside us, hate is what defines us. And they will use our hate to drive us; let hate not deprive us. Do we want this? Or do we need this?"
-Chris 'Motionless' Cerulli, 'Creatures'

You can always rinse the surface, but the stain will remain.
Every single torturous, terrorizing memory that I tried to remove from my twisted mind always returned in a horrifying nightmare.
Tonight was one of those nights.
"Now, Chloe," Dr. Davidoff's voice crooned in my head. My heart pounded in fear. "Just close your eyes and brace yourself. It'll all be over soon. I promise. You've done a great job so far."
I remained silent. I desperately yearned to reply back, but I feared that bile would spew from my mouth if I opened it. I swallowed hard.
"Dr. Phelps will be here shortly. I'm worried I'll mess this up. He's a shaman. We'll need him if anything goes wrong in the slightest- if something of that nature were to happen, you'd feel nothing but agonizing pain."
"This is amazing," Diane Enright said to her boss. "We're making a new type of supernatural. We're the firsts to do it. What do you think will happen?" She continued to question him. I blocked out her voice.
I was going to die. I couldn't live through this.
But honestly, I didn't care if I died. All of this would be over with. There was nobody for me to see. Nobody to care. I was absolutely fine with never seeing the world again if it meant all of this would end.
Green eyes gazed at me in my imagination. "Chloe, you don't even realize how much you'd regret it. You're worth WAY more than you realize," he said.
I was always thinking about the day I was ripped away from them. After returning to Andrew's from the cemetery I had raised, I had ran into the woods. Too scared to face Derek's disapproving gaze, hear his angry words. I was already being eaten away by the guilt. He wouldn't help that.
I was a monster. SO MANY innocent people died and it wasn't their faults. They had been blessings in their families' lives. And they died.
And I had raised them back.
The Edison Group had waiting for me to go deep into the woods. They had tracked us and kept their distance, simply seeing what we would do because they had known they could catch is whenever they wanted. Once I saw Davidoff, smiling at me, I knew that I would be stuck with the Edison Group forever.
Davidoff's voice brought me back to reality. "Alright, Chloe, we're gonna keep you awake the whole time. It'll be painful, but if you're not awake, we won't be able to complete this. It'll ALL be over soon."
Internally, I rolled my eyes. Even after showing my disgust of him, he pretended like I was his granddaughter, talking to me like I was his own child.
"Are you sure there aren't any drugs in her system?" Diane inquired in a whisper, thinking I couldn't here her.
"I checked twice. I'm positive. And I'm sure she's dying to get back to her cigars." His whispered words were true. I was ready for this to be over so I could have a beer with Jack and watch a football game. Smoke afterwards.
"Alright then,"Diane mumbled. Then louder, "Let's get this over with! Mike, is everything ready?"
"Yep. It shouldn't take long Phelps gets here, along with Banks."
Tyler Banks. The poltergeist from Andrew's- Royce, I now knew -had a father who was still alive. He was going to be the one drilling things into me. Literally.
I shot up in bed, gasping for air. Remembering the unbearable agony that had ripped through me when they put something into my blood. Something they never told me the name of. Remembering the sorry look on Tyler's face before he pulled the lever.
It was a scene from XMen Origins: Wolverine. Several supernatural scientists simply observing. Others causing me to feel such pain by pulling levers and drilling things into me.
Dr. Davidoff thought it would be a good idea to make a new type of supernatural. He gave me the ability to change into any person I wanted. I would be able to actually use that ability if they let me up.
I was stuck down here. Underground. It was a horrible place. No sunlight, no moonlight, no happiness, no warmth.
I reached over to my drawer. A minute later, I was smoking a cigar, trying to calm myself down. Looking at the clock, I sighed. Two in the morning. I wouldn't fall back asleep. Might as well roam the halls and think about how much of a failure I was, despite how many times said I was a success.
I left the room, shutting the wooden door behind me as silently as I could. There were very few people in this wing, but I still didn't risk waking them up.
Slowly, I walked down the hallway. I took a long drag and tried to remember the few times in my life I was genuinely happy. After the Edison Group captured me again, and not the others, it was like all good memories were completely erased from my mind.
I'm sure you're wondering why I would even touch alcohol, or hold a cig. But I'm here wondering why it was the only thing that took away the pain and fear and all the bad from my life, even if it were for a moment. A few months after living down here, I met Alan. He had red hair, several tattoos, and was about as tall as Derek. As soon as I sat on a couch in the gaming room- a luxury that was taken away after I gained new powers -next to him, we had enjoyed some Saints Row 2 and became fast friends. I finally had someone to talk to. An awesome, funny, nice guy who had gone through crap similar to what I had been through.
Then, Alan had to capture supernaturals for the Edison Group. Whether they were experimented on or not, the were starting more and more projects with 'subjects' of all ages. Since they trusted Alan, and he had given up on fighting them, he was sent out to find willing supernaturals, and capture runaway experiments like I had once been.
He was rarely around anymore. Always busy, always too tired to do something, always talking to Davidoff. I was alone. There weren't many people in the underground facility who weren't here unwillingly. It seemed as if I was the only one.
Then came along Jack. A Project Icarus runaway. He was being held captive as well. We got along easily, even better than Alan and I had. He wasn't afraid to crap talk Edison in front of Edison Group workers, unlike Alan. He made me see just how wrong they were to keep us here. He gave me hope that we would eventually escape and live our lives without someone constantly observing our every move.
Jack also convinced me to try one sip of his beer. After spending a whole year underground, I didn't care what it would cause me to do or what effect it would have on me. I had nothing better to do. Why not?
A few months later, I was already an alcoholic. Davidoff didn't care that neither of us were of age. He thought that if he gave us something we wanted, we would be happy and wouldn't complain and actually enjoy being here. Total idiot.
I didn't need Jack to encourage me to try a cigarette. If I could easily down beer, why not try cigarettes and heavier drinks as well? And cigarettes were always available from workers. They were surprisingly okay with letting you try their own cigarettes. I started buying packs from them- whether I actually used money or not, I would always repay them for cigarettes. Yeah, I went there, for those of you with dirty minds.
Now, eight months later, I realized just how much I had changed in those two years. My fifteen-year-old self would look at my soon to be eighteen-year-old self with disgust. I used to be a shy, sweet, innocent little girl who almost every one of Dad and Aunt Lauren's friends would adore. Now, I was a monstrous, nasty, alcoholic, addicted, freaky little girl that their friends would cross the street to avoid. I became somebody that I never wanted to be.
All because of a beer can and because I was done with everything. It wasn't like I had anyone who was looking for me up on ground level. Dad and Aunt Lauren were dead. Simon, Tori, and Derek probably stopped looking for me- if they looked for me at all. It wasn't that they wouldn't have cared, it was just that I knew Andrew wouldn't go out of his way to look for me, and wouldn't let them look. They had to know that the Edison Group took me and that it was too dangerous to look. And sooner or later after they came to that realization, they would forget about me and move on to other things. After all, they had only known me for two weeks. Yet they had played a HUGE role in my life, each one of them.
I was a mess. An insane, constantly drunk or high, mess. Look at what one sip had done to me.
Look at what staying with the Edison Group for so long could do to me.
I continued to walk down the hall as silently as possible. Might as well go to the kitchen, make a sandwich, then eat it as I continued to walk around.
I passed by a room full of computers. The door was open, and I froze as my eyes landed on a particular screen. Slowly, my feet made their way towards the opening. I entered the room and sat down in the seat directly in front of the screen.
Name: Derek Souza. Gender: male. DOB: February 28th, 1995. Age: 18. Height: 6'7". Weight: 217 lbs. Eye Color: Green. Race: Caucasian. Supernatural Race: Werewolf. Number Of Kills: 7, It read. I snorted at the last one, although I was shocked at the fact he had killed seven people.
Why was he on the screen? Was Derek alright? Were they going after him? What was going on? I took a drag on my cigar, trying not to worry too much. He could handle himself very well if he killed seven people.
I continued reading. Derek Souza goes by the alias Derek Brown, as he did before he was sent to Lyle House. He recently was on the cover of a newspaper for murdering three Edison Group workers- Michael Wertz, June Thompson (A.K.A 'Mama June')-
The cigar dropped to my feet as I stared open mouthed at the final name.
-And Lauren Fellows.
I knew she had died recently, even though the last time I saw her was seven months ago, but I would've never thought Derek was responsible for her death.
"Chloe, it's okay. We aren't going to hurt him. We just need to bring him here to fix him. We thought that the rest of your little clique were successes, but you needed a little more to fix your powers. They're fixed now, apparently. But, also apparently, the others needed some more experimenting as well."
"Bringing him here will just mess him up even more. "I motioned toward my body with both hands, then at the cigar below. "Look at me. I was much better without you guys. He's a big boy. Derek can survive. Just let him be and don't make it worse." I turned around, planning on leaving the room in my dirty Suicide Silence shirt that was one of the very few shirts I owned, and gray sweatpants, but there was a guard blocking the door.
He had a gun. Why? What did I even do to worry them enough that they felt the need to bring a gun? Was I finally going to be terminated, after they heard what I previously said?
His radio squeaked and the guard took it out of his pocket. I listened to a woman say, "Our subject is in sight. He doesn't see us or smell us yet. He's walking with his brother down the street. Heading to what seems to be his apartment. Do we fire?"
"No," I whispered. No. No. They were not going to capture Derek. He was a strong werewolf that couldn't be captured.
But what if they fired? What if Simon couldn't escape? Derek could protect Simon-for a while. Depending on how many people there were, they might be brought here.
I couldn't let that happen.
I lunged for the radio, successfully removing it from the guard's unsuspecting hands. He was no longer blocking the doorway, so I sprinted. Bolted. I ran so fast it astonished me that I didn't fall to the ground and land on my face. The guard, however, fell. I wanted to laugh. I weaved my way through hall after hall.
Davidoff didn't follow me. That caused fear to run through me and fill me with adrenaline. What was he doing? Where was he?
I continued to sprint, turning randomly and not having a clue where I was going. I couldn't use my powers. All I could do was pray that I would find somewhere safe to use the radio and warn Derek. Right now,anyone could hear me.
Then, the radio squawked. "Hello," the woman snapped. "Dennis, answer me!"
Anybody around could hear the woman. Hopefully, Derek did as well. I might as well talk now. "Don't fire," I yelled angrily, though I didn't sound as tough because of my panting. "Leave them alone and never bother them again."
"CHLOE," the woman snapped. "Give the radio back to the guard."
"Nope." I pushed myself to go faster, seeing a red sign at the end of the hall that read : EXIT. I felt like jumping for joy. Considering that I had never gone through these halls before, I wasn't surprised by the fact that there was no guard. They wouldn't need to guard it.
The woman continued to snap at me. When I reached the exit, I muttered sarcastically, "YOLO," and shoved the door open.
When it shut, I was completely surrounded by blackness. I leaned against the door, listening to the woman complain and waiting for my eyes to adjust.
"Derek and Simon are better off without you guys. If you left Derek alone, maybe you wouldn't be short on workers."
I was able to see that there were stairs to my right. I slowly climbed up them, astonished that nobody had caught me yet. The woman was now radioing someone else. I had completely turned down the volume, hoping that I'd escape to see the sun or moon or clouds or whatever was in the sky for the first time in nearly three years. It was a spiral staircase, with steps that branched off to the side and were longer than others so that you could stop on a certain level. I found that odd. Why was it so dark?
Finally, I reached the top level. Sun was shining through the windows of the empty hallway. Just now rising. I smiled, relieved. Entering the room, I got a better look out the window.
There were cars parked outside, the entrance of the parking lot leading out to a busy road. There was a door at the end of the row of windows. To my left side was a bare white wall with no windows.
I turned around and shut the door completely. Then, I left the building and went outside. I turned around again and tried the door. Locked from the outside.
There was no going back in for me. No more Jack, no Alan. No more experiments. No more getting beat up by others around there.
It wasn't until then, standing barefoot outside in the cold of February, that I realized that I didn't have anything with me. No money, no blankets, no shoes, no extra clothes. And what was worst to me- no cigars and no alcohol.
I needed those things. They were a necessity for me every single day. I couldn't go on without them.
But I had to now.
Pulling out the radio and running down the sidewalk, I turned back up the volume and tried not to think about what I had previously thought of.
The woman seemed to have forgotten me already. She must have thought that I was still underground, being dealt with. I listened carefully, attempting to block out the noise of the street full of cars heading for work while jogging. Derek and Simon were in danger.
I couldn't come up with a plan to save them. Alerting them would do nothing because they would still have the same powers as they did. They couldn't defend themselves against guns.
"Their sister's car is at the end of the street. She's coming. They know." A man cursed as I felt relief for a few seconds.
Tori could help out a lot. She was powerful and could at least defend the two of them until they got in the car and drove off.
I wanted to say something. Anything. If I yelled loud enough, Derek might just be able to hear me. I wondered how he couldn't tell how many EG workers were there? Could he not smell or hear them?
"Derek," I yelled loudly into the radio. "Derek, continue walking like nothing's wrong if you hear this. It's Chloe. The Edison Group is surrounding you."
I'm sure you're thinking that was a stupid thing to say, right? It was the first thing that came to my mind. And it was actually pretty darn smart; if he heard, he knows to get in Tori's car. If he didn't, Tori was most likely picking them up anyway.
The receiver of my message's side became silent. I immediately panicked, my heart rate picking up.
Then I heard running. A gunshot. Simon's voice yell,"Derek, what are you doing?! Who was that?!"
Strident car tires. Tori's voice screaming,"Derek!"
Gunshot. Scream. Gunshot. Gunshot. Gunshot. Yell. Growl. Gunshot after gunshot after gunshot. Why was the woman still holding the button that allowed me to hear all of this?
"Where is she?!" Derek growled angrily. I knew that he had been the one shooting.
A whimper escaped the woman that had previously spoken to me. "I-"
"Now," Derek roared. I shivered and realized I had stopped running and turned around.
It was then that I realized how easily I had escaped. It shouldn't have been so quick, so simple. This was the Edison Group. Nothing was simple with them.
I turned back around, running across the busy road -which earned me several honks- and into the forest. I tried not to run too far away from where the trees began but far enough that I wouldn't be easily seen.
The noise coming from the other end stopped for a moment before returning. "Chloe," Derek said, relief clear in his tone.
"Derek," I replied, slowing down. "I don't think I'll be able to talk much until I get away," I panted, picking up speed again as I realized how close they could be. We shouldn't even be talking on the radio because obviously, somebody else had one and could be listening in. Hopefully, he'd realize that quickly and shut up.
He went quiet.
I ran as fast as I could, trying not to be too loud and not to fall. Several trees blocked my path, their leaves blocking the rising sun completely from view and making it even colder for me.
What shocked me the most out of all of this was that I hadn't been caught yet. Were they tracking me, seeing how far I could go without them finally getting to me? I prayed that they weren't toying with me and getting my hopes up.
What were Derek, Simon, and Tori like now? How much had they changed? How would they react to my own changes?
A voice came on the radio. It wasn't Derek's.
"Chloe? What are you doing? Where are you?" Frantic, worried, scared, and upset.
It was Alan.
When I heard this voice, I felt like crying. Leaving him and Jack behind was hard for me, and I wish I could bring them along so terribly much.
But I couldn't. Alan believed their lies. Jack wouldn't stay long- he had a family he desperately wanted to return to, and once he did, I'd probably never see him again.
What was I thinking? Because I had ran, I'd never see Jack or Alan again. Though Jack would quickly find his own way out, hopefully. Alan would be happy with . I wished that they would both be okay.
My feet pushed me farther, my hand itching to press the button and talk to Alan for what would most likely be the last time. I would miss them terribly, but my freedom was- as rude as it sounded -honestly more important. Jack would've done the same.
Then, startling me, Derek's voice. "Chloe?"
They were both worried because I wasn't replying. I sighed and slowed a bit, my eyes darting around the vibrant green forest, my feet crunching the leaves beneath me. This would be the moment when I'd pull out a cigarette and try not to think too much, giving up. But I couldn't give up and I didn't have a freaking cigarette. I didn't have one. I wouldn't be able to relax, to calm down, without one. Being on the run without a cigarette and a bottle of Whiskey was unimaginable; those were everyday things for me.
My heart started raising. I was an alcoholic being separated from alcohol for the first time. I didn't know what to do. I NEEDED IT. I couldn't imagine life without it.
Two years. Two long, torturous, unforgivable years of alcohol and cigs. Two years was all it took. Now, just look at me. A seventeen year old girl with all hopes of survival gone because she might not get a cigarette for another two days.
"Alan, I'm so sorry," I breathed. I didn't want to talk to him. I wanted to talk to him. I couldn't decide which, so I settled for pretending like he was right next to me. Talking to myself, like I was crazy. "Alan, I'm gonna die out here. I have nothing. I-"
"Chloe, answer me!" Derek cursed angrily, and I felt tears in my eyes. I had nothing. Nothing at all.
How stupid was I? Why did I think that it'd be better out here, without anything besides the clothes I was wearing and a practically useless radio?
Oh, gosh. I didn't think they were coming. Maybe they didn't even care about me. Maybe, they were planning on killing me before and they knew that this would be even worse for me because before, I hardly cared about my life. Now, I did. I realized now, now that there was actually a good chance I was going to die soon, I didn't want to die. I just didn't want to be stuck underground anymore.
I finally replied into the radio. "What?
I started walking. I didn't run. Part of me actually kinda hoped I would be caught so I could go get another cigar. It astonished me how badly I wanted it.

Well, after all that time, I was free. What was I doing? Wasn't I supposed to be happy now? Now that I didn't have to deal with constant experiments? Now that there wasn't a pair of eyes glued to me, observing each little move I made?

Now, I had nobody to pick me up and take me home. I couldn't say where I was going on the radio. I couldn't do anything to save myself from another awful life on the streets, possibly just as bad as my life underground.
"I'll find you Chloe," Derek insisted. "We'll figure something out. I promise. We'll see each other again."
"Derek...?" Alan finally realized who he was. I heard him gasp.
There was no way we could do this. No way without risking something. He couldn't just give me his phone number and get rid of the phone after we talked because there was a 99% chance that something would go wrong with our plans.
When would I die? How long did I have until I either starved or got caught or got shot or got my head chopped off or-
A gun pressed into the back of my head and I realized how little attention I had been paying to the world outside of my brain.
I guess the answer to my previous question would be now.

Well, that didn't turn out as I planned. This actually took a while because I have a whole HUGE project in English on The Rising so I have to finish it soon. I've also been having tons of homework lately. If you live in Southern IN, you probably know the Fall Festival is going on, and I had to work at a booth. I doubt anyone lives in that area, but if you do, did you go to the Fall Fest? I rode The Screamer and Ring of Fire for the first time. I LOVED The Screamer but my arm STILL hurts from Ring of Fire. I rode it Friday.
Thanks for reading! Please review!