1

You Don't Own Me

He was angry. No, he was beyond angry. He was fuming. He was livid. For such a scrawny boy, the hatred and anger radiated from and you could almost feel it in the air. They were in awe. This was the first emotion he had shown and it was so strong. One of the men began scribbling down as much as he could, his cold eyes flitting from the paper to the test subject with an avid curiosity. Other than the scratching of paper, the steel room was silent. The test subjects body was shaking as he sat on the silvered, metal chair, his hands curled into fists as they strained against the leather binding keeping him down. He was glaring with those greyed eyes, glaring with that one emotion.

"What... I.. Is m-my... na..name...?" He growled, his voice hoarse and sloped into whispers when his throat closed up. He hadn't spoken, not even once, since the beginning of The Rising.

"Oh My G.. He's speaking!" Dr Kelly stated in shock, Dr Hanson looked at him sharply and the younger man shut his mouth.

"Why do you want to know?" Hanson asked the Subject slowly, as if worried it was the wrong thing to say.

"T-Tell... me... M-My name..." The Subject repeated but this time more firmly. His accent was coming through now, showing his Northern roots.

"All you need to know, is that you are a test subject." Hanson said calmly. A couple of the assistants jumped back when the Subject suddenly pulled at his restraints.

"TELL ME!" He yelled, his sweat soaked copper blond hair falling across his face.

Hanson and the others shared a small look and the suited man in the far corner nodded his head stoically. Hanson sighed and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and studied the Subject before him critically.

"You're name is Kieren Walker."

He closed is eyes. He heard the sound of shoes against the pristine floor as the doctors and the strange man in the suit left the room in silence. He steadied his breathing and gripped the arms of the chair so tight, that his knuckles turned white and it physically hurt. He could... hear them. The voices in his head; they screamed his name and they screamed and screamed and screamed. Kieren Walker. Kieren.. Walker... His eyes shot open, images flashing in his mind too fast for him to comprehend but he saw all the faces.

"His vitals are all over the place..." He slowly raised his gaze, the voice clearer than any others. It was Dr Kelly.

"It's his brain. His name is making his brain react." This time it was Hanson.

"You mean he's remembering?" The assistant, Michael, was the only one with a hint of care or curiosity in his tone.

"Indeed. Bring me the Serum."

"Do you... The memory serum?"

"Yes. What else would I be talking about, foolish boy?"

"But... Are you sure? Shouldn't we do more tests?"

"No. Bring it to me."

Now Kieren was feeling something else. Fear. It was settling in his stomach, running through his veins. "You can't let fear in, it makes you weak.. makes you weak.." He blocked the fear out. He pushed it right back. Running through his veins now was adrenaline as he heart thee door click and slide open, the sound of footsteps making his heart stop in his chest. He could see shadows of the man walking towards him, but it was blurred like he was half asleep only every nerve and sense was on high alert. The needle glinted dangerously in the low light. Kieren closed his eyes, releasing a breath. The second Dr Kelly touched his wrist a pulse of energy surged through him and there was a loud bang as Kelly's back his the floor and a smash as the glass syringe shattered next to him.

"Don't..." He warned in a low voice. Kelly grunted painfully. More footsteps.

"Get the anaesthesia!" Hanson ordered, waving towards the silver cabinet. One moved to go over to it, but he stopped. There was a strange heaviness in the air and they all turned stone cold as the cabinet began to shake gently, before shaking harder and and more sporadically until the draws swung open.

"I.. I s-said... Don't." The various medical apparatus shot up and out of the drawers, hovering in the air in an almost soft manner; the sharp ends pointed directly at the doctors.

"Incredible..." Hanson marvelled, his mouth agape and his grip on the standing Dr Kelly loosening as he stared at the phenomenon.

"Doctor..." Kelly gestured with a pale hand to Kieren. The boy was shaking again, out of uncontrollable adrenaline and anger but this time his face was expressionless. It was like he was focusing on something.

Hanson moved towards the wall, eyes glancing nervously at the wall phone- the one they used for emergencies. Just as he was reaching for it, Kierens eyes darted up and his nose wrinkled in anger. In the blink of an eye the apparatus were shooting towards him and stopped dead in front of his face, one of the scalpels mere centimetres away from his eyes. A cold sweat lined his forehead and he couldn't breathe under the pressure in the room.

"Kieren... Kieren you need to calm down. You don't have to do this." Kelly reasoned, with a quivering voice.

"You... You don't.. know me..." He growled in response, the bonds snapping like twigs and his hands shot out. It felt another pulse, this time of an invisible force that his their chests like a tidal wave. The were taken off their feet and their backs hit the wall at once. Kieren held his fists up, the only way they knew he was the source of all this power. In silence he glared at them all. The blue veins stretching out from the corners of his eyes to the corners of his lips. He couldn't hear anything. Not the screams of help, of forgiveness, of prayer from the people pinned on the walls. He could only hear his heart beat booming in his ears.

"You don't know me." He whispered, "You don't own me."

The medical utensils shot towards the walls. A sickening squelch invaded the silence as the men and women were pierced with the various sharp objects they'd once used on him. He lowered his hands and exhaustion hit him, so he slumped forward. After a few moments listening to blood dripping onto the floor, he willed himself to stand. His legs hadn't done anything like this in... in a long time. They ached. His bones were stiff. He managed to pull himself upright, a strong sense of pride swelling in him. The door was wide open. He could leave. He could leave. The sense of relief overwhelmed him and his eyes grew wet, tears fighting to break free.

"They don't own me..." He repeated, still at a whisper.

As soon as he set foot out of the room and into the corridor, he felt free. For the first time in this god forsaken place, he felt free. He felt powerful. He felt invincible.

He was free.

He floated down the corridors as if he was a ghost. Nobody came. Nobody saw him. The camera's watched. He could feel them on him. He didn't know why they were letting him leave, but he didn't care. This was his chance to get away. His hands hit the cold surface of the door an it felt so new against his skin. He pushed, his muscles straining to move it. But when it did.. it felt amazing. The wind against his face, the way it smelt, the sun... He stepped out carefully.

So this was what it felt like.

This was his freedom.