AN: 2550 views? I love you guys. ^_^ You don't even understand how happy that even makes me. I never expected this to get views at all and you guyssss…. -Hugs-I'm sorry… I'm having OTP related feels… I was watching Anime… I'm so sorry.
But… Here comes a new character, mixing things up on you all….
Meanwhile at the facility….
"Is there even anything left we can do with subject 37?" Hitori asked, a slight edge to his voice. This was the type of question I expected from the recent novices that had been recruited, not from someone who had been involved in this process for years. Subject 37 was an older Diiclonius, somewhere around the age of 17. Her eyes were filled with tears, although I doubted the beast could actually feel pain. Shot after shot was aimed at her, being deflected by her vectors. It appeared that the older they grew, the stronger they became, which was a concern. Lucy had escaped years before, narrowly escaping capture, and still had yet to be found. The longer it took to wipe her out, the more of a threat she became.
"Are you authorized to question your superiors?" I inquired, letting my own frustration leak into my tone. I knew it wasn't necessarily fair to take out my stress on Hitori, but he had provided me an outlet that I so desperately needed. I hear a low cry, and my attention returned to the monster who was secured to a wall. Her legs were twisted at an awkward angle, from her crumpling in exhaustion and pain. I felt no pity or guilt rise in me, for this abomination didn't even deserve to live. In some ways, this was as much a mercy as any. I took a deep breath, lighting myself a cigarette and waiting for myself to relax. Hitori scrunched his nose a bit, and I remembered he had a bit of a hatred for cigarette smoke, but I couldn't find anything in me that really gave a shit. He gave me a sideways glare, that I casually ignored. He gave a low grunt, and left me to myself in the control room, which didn't bother me a bit.
I pressed the cigarette to the ash tray until it smudged with ashen remains. I felt anxiety pressing up against me from all sides at the thought of Lucy. There was no telling what damage she could do, let alone what harm she had already done. My hand clenched at my side, I began punching combinations in on the remote in front of me. I met the creature behind the thick glass's eyes, and saw her lower lip quiver upon seeing the remote. She knew what was coming, and somehow that made it all the better. The more she suffered, the more I got out of it. I shook my head, I couldn't let my own personal affairs and condolences get in the way of research. She needed to live, for now at the very least. But no one ever said I needed to be considerate of any pain tolerances it may or may not have.
A low hum resounded throughout the room, and I the girl before me, clothed only in scraps of bandage that was stained with her filth of blood, visibly shook. I watched as collateral she couldn't deflect about a month and a half ago, whizzed towards her. She let out a loud cry, and then….
A loud resounding 'boom' as she deflected it at last. She was thrown back, her head hitting the wall, and she slumped downwards for a moment, before beating the glass with both her fists and vectors.
"No more! No more!" She screamed, he voice high pitched and filled with terror. I slowly shook my head, before pressing a panel on the side wall. It was time for her to be restrained back to her chamber for a while, she had grown too strong too quickly.
I watched as she complied with the guards, something of a mystery to me. Then again, I was the one she hated, she must look at them as her saviors. Taking her away from the evil man with the remote. Taking her back to her own internal salvation, her own evil company. Afterall, what company could the devil itself confide in but to itself? Surely the creature recognized it didn't deserve anything better than this, that it would surely rot in Hell for merely existing ANYWAY. That there was no redemption for a Diclonii. They were cursed from the moment they were born to bear the weight of death and the own shit they stirred would be dished back out.
I closed my eyes as images of my wife flowed through my mind. I could remember… I could remember Lucy… tearing her to pieces mercilessly. The fear that shone in Andra's eyes as the demon slowly destroyed her. The cries that she emitted that were futile, while I was restrained and unable to do anything. I had watched from a distance, feeling useless in a way I refused to ever feel again. If anything, this was a cry for vengence. I couldn't stand it when some of the technichians here tried to say that they couldn't all be evil, because they were. They all were. They were satan's very own spawning. His own creation.
"What the hell were you thinking Yukito?" I could hear one of the directors yell in my direction. My anger boiled, and I couldn't even take it anymore. The memories of my wife's death had disturbed the false calm I so often provided, and with that, my pretense melted away for a moment.
"I was THINKING that they are all fucking monsters who shouldn't even be given the grace to live, and what should we care if they suffer? I was THINKING that they aren't here to be treated like people when they are Satan himself and that they should all rot in Hell and…" I broke off, my breathing ragged with my anger. The director only stood before me, waiting for me to calm down. He had grown to know me so well, and yet he kept his name a secret from us all. "I…I'm sorry. My … my past got the best of me." I murmur, and he only nodded, and then walked away, leaving me in my own misery.