"What do you mean dying?"
Frantic questions flew back and forth, each overlapping the other till it all seemed to blend into one large mass of disbelief.
For the first time, the child showed an emotion; he seemed flustered. "In a way, you're all connected," he said, once the volume had died down. "And all your injuries are worse than they seem. Most of you are in surgery right now, and there's no telling whether or not you'll make it—not at this point in time."
"Is there any way to stop it?" Edger was the first to speak up after a long silence.
The child half-nodded. "With the way you're dying, your spirit is trying to leave because you're all losing the will to live. I guess if you kind of figure out what's upsetting you, you can get that will back."
The silence falls on them again. This time, it's Kiki that speaks up. "How do we do that?"
"I don't know about the other people that were in the cave, but you might be able to speak with them—either that, or face your inner demons."
Inner demons? Jax immediately didn't think he was up for the task. The very thought of facing the embodiment of his worst fear when he didn't even know what his worst fear was made him shake.
Beside him, Edger had gone pale, almost as white the space around them. "When will this happen?" he asked, voice low and very afraid.
The child looked at him. "Right now."
Edger was aware of the feeling of air being sucked out of his chest, as if he were in the vacuum of space and not in limbo. For a few moments, his limbs felt dead and cold, and he was aware he was lying down.
Slowly, very slowly, he stood up as first his toes, then arms and legs began to feel warm again. He looked around his surroundings.
White.
All white.
What had just happened? Was this where he would meet his worst nightmare?
Edger's head swiveled, searching for some sort of…something that would tell him either where he was, or what would happen next.
Nothing.
The unsettling feeling in his stomach tripled, gnawing at his innards until he had to squirm. A chill rolled down his spin when he felt something brush against the back of his neck.
Breathing, warm and malicious.
He yelped and spun, coming face-to-face with an all-black figure, the only thing to mar its surface a pair a glowing red eyes. He screamed this time, lunging backwards.
It didn't move. "Hello," it said.
Edger knew that voice. It was him. It was as tall as him and wide as him, and although it was almost completely black, he could barely discern a few features.
The thing smiled, the clouds of black mist around it seemingly growing and shrinking. "Did I scare you? I'm sorry." It didn't sound sorry—it was nowhere near sorry.
"What are you?" Edger asked, eyeing the black figure.
It tipped its head. "Why, I'm you, of course. Have you looked in a mirror lately?" It chuckled, a low and ominous sound.
He didn't respond. Edger felt the evilness that rolled off of the thing in waves; it squeezed his chest and made his throat hurt.
"Maybe I should change to something you're more…familiar with?" It took color, parts of its blackness changing to tan skin and white armor. Hair sprouted from its head until it formed a short, neat ponytail.
Blazing brown eyes bored into Edger's.
His limbs froze, legs tethered to the spot and fear gripping his neck. His former sergeant cocked his head, feigning curiosity. "What's wrong? Do you not recognize me?"
Edger exploded in a fit of rage, swinging one arm out and connecting his fist with the man's jaw. A loud crack was heard, and the once-black figure was on the ground, rubbing the sore area on his face. Edger growled, lunging for the clone when his foot connected with thin air. Gone.
His arms and legs were shaking, the white space around him seemingly spinning—but that was impossible, wasn't it?
"That was a pretty good hit," said a voice from behind him. Edger spun to see his sergeant rubbing his jaw. "If only you'd tried that hard to protect yourself, or your brothers, or Jax—"
"Shut up!" Edger yelled, this time aiming for his throat. His fist swung through empty space again.
His sergeant scoffed. "You always were slow."
Edger turned, slow and tensed, his face twisted in rage. "What do you want?" he spat, teeth clenched.
The sergeant spread his arms wide. "I'm your test! Your 'inner demon' so to speak," he said.
Edger felt sick to his stomach. "I'm not arguing with a bastard," he said. "I'm not facing you. My inner demon must be something else!" He was not about to face a man who'd tormented him for every waking moment of his life.
"Well, that's a shame…" He shook his head. "I guess you'll have to leave Jax behind—leave him to fend for himself the way you always do."
Edger froze. "What is that supposed to mean?" His shoulders were visibly tensing.
"You know exactly what I mean, Edger." The sergeant's voice lost its mock joviality. "You were a coward who let himself get beaten instead of standing up for himself—"
"You threatened to kill Jax!" He was tense, ready to throw another punch and rip out the throat of the man who'd almost ruined his life. Horrible, dark memories that he'd spent almost years suppressing pushed themselves to the forefront of his mind.
Pain. He remembered pain—and not just physical. It was emotional and mental, as well. He remembered screaming and begging and tears and—
"He was even weaker than you were," the sergeant spat. "Constantly cowering behind others—he lacked the courage of a real soldier!"
"You made him that way!" Edger yelled. "You wouldn't stop treating him like he was less than human! You—You always pointed out everything wrong he did for you own sick enjoyment."
The sergeant tipped his head. "That doesn't deny the fact that he couldn't stand up for himself. He was a child in a man's body, Edger. He wasn't fit to serve; I should have just ruined him while I had the chance."
Edger could feel a cold fury burning deep in his chest. His vision around the corners was starting to get dark, as if he were about to pass out.
No, the room was turning black.
The once-white space was being filled with dark grey clouds that choked off light until those were eventually swallowed by the purest blackness Edger had ever seen. The sergeant before him turned to smoke again, became a chilling, dark mass with a warped voice. He still sounded like a clone, but more sinister, like one who would kill his brothers without a second thought.
As Edger thought about it, he realized his old sergeant probably would have.
The black mist swirled, not taking form but drifting close to Edger's back. "You were weaker than I thought, Edger—look at how short it's taken to anger you."
That cold feeling deepened inside him, spreading to his gut and extremities. He could feel himself beginning to shake.
"There was so much more I could have done to you two; you were practically my slaves." A searingly cold breath trailed down his back. "The rest of the useless men were too afraid and too stupid to stop me, Edger—until that bitch of a General got involved."
Edger spun around only to face darkness. "Don't talk about General Jorani like that," he seethed, fists clenching. "She is more useful than you ever were."
A loud, harsh bark of a laugh rang in Edger's ears. "Useful? She didn't know what she was doing—could barely even coordinate battles. That day she was going to be my slave just the same way your old squad was."
"Never!" Edger swung and hit empty air. "You don't know anything about her!"
"She was exactly like you and your sorry excuse for a brother," the voice growled. "She was controlled and she did as she was told without question. You're both weak slaves to what you believe."
Edger could feel himself begin to grow hot. The fire that burned within him effectively seared away the tight, cold feeling in his stomach and left him with a need to break something.
The voice chuckled. "The bitch was going to be mine, just like you were—"
This time when Edger threw his fist, he felt his knuckles connect with something hard. "You don't own me!" he yelled, hearing something cracking and crashing to the ground.
He opened his and saw white. He was surrounded by whiteness again.
Somewhere above him, behind him, near him, his sergeant chuckled. "That's what you say, Edger." His presence faded with his voice.
Edger was left panting, shaking by himself in the empty space. His anger was fading, and the leftovers of raw fear were eating away at his insides. He took a deep breath, looking at the fist that had punched something solid within the cloud of smoke. There was no mark.
A shiver ran down his spine. Had that all been real? Had he actually faced his former sergeant?
Edger straightened a bit, looking around him. The stark whiteness was unmarred, even.
He was alone again.
Once again, apologies for the late update. I'm not going to do all of these little moments for everyone that was mentioned in the previous (?) chapter, although I do have an idea of what will happen next.
