Mindless; Chapter 13

My back slams into the mat. I almost can't suck in another breath. A second later the boy I was sparing with is standing over me. He smirks down at me, triumphant.

"Guess you aren't really the best," he sneers. "I win."

I glare up at him, but I don't respond. He laughs and begins to turn toward the Instructor.

As soon as his back is turned, I flip off the mat. He hears, turning, and throwing a punch. I easily duck under it, then grab it, spinning around him, using his own momentum. Once I'm behind him, I also lock my other arm around his neck, and before the momentum is lost, I throw us both forward. I now have him pinned under me on the mat, one knee on his back, the other on the ground for support. His one arm is still pinned to his back which is forcibly arched by my headlock.

I know that I've won, but I look to the Instructor. He nods. I release subject 39 and stand up. Subject 39 stands up as well.

"Very good, subject 45. Class, let this be a lesson. Just because the enemy is down, that doesn't mean that they have been finished off," the Instructor says matter-of-factly. "Those of you here are still in the program because you have learned and adapted. Forget your lessons and you will be terminated from the program. Your jobs will not have room for failure. Especially due to overconfidence or arrogance," the Instructor says, giving subject 39 a hard look.

Subject 39's gaze is stone, set on the wall across from him. He nods in response to the Instructor.

"This project has reached a critical stage. The Controllers will no longer tolerate failure on your part," the Instructor continues, walking so he stands between subject 39 and me and the rest of the 'class' as he refers to us when we're with him. He stops and turns to me. "Subject 45, eliminate subject 39."

"Sir?" I ask, surprised.

"You heard me. Eliminate subject 39," he repeats.

I look at subject 39. He's watching me. He won't go down without a fight. I remember what subject 44 told me. We could leave. If we all worked together. That's why they're always trying to pit us against each other. And besides, we're too valuable to them. They wouldn't actually let me kill him.

I look at the Instructor. "Why?"

The Instructor raises an eyebrow. "Are you questioning your orders subject 45?"

"You wouldn't actually let me kill him, so why bother trying? You already know that I could," I say calmly.

The Instructor actually laughs. "But would you subject 45? I've seen your reports."

I don't need to look at subject 39 to know he's resizing me for another fight. I keep my gaze level as I stare back at the Instructor. "I'm not a killer." Not a question. I've also seen my reports.

Some of the other subjects watching shift their positions. I know that saying what I know is in my report is a death sentence, especially with most of the remaining subjects vying for the position of the Doctor's favorite. But it was also my silent challenge because I know what else is in my report. Stubborn. Obstinate. Uncooperative. Creative. Strong. Determined. Fighter.

I can kill, I just don't want to.

The Instructor's reaction makes my blood run cold. He smiles a dark smile that is nowhere close to reaching his eyes. He pulls out his gun, turns, and shoots subject 44.

Subject 44 falls back, brown eyes wide with shock, dead before he hits the ground.

The Instructor turns back to me, and on instinct, my foot flies up. My kick lands right where I want it to, on the side of the Instructor's face. Once grounded again, I fall into my fighter's stance. My blood is boiling. I didn't know subject 44 that well, but he was the closest thing I had to a friend.

The Instructor throws his gun toward the watching guards and sends a responding kick flying my way. I manage to block it and throw a right hook in response. The Instructor is fast, catching my right hook, and using it to twist my arm painfully behind my back.

"Class dismissed!" the Instructor barks, shoving me forward, tripping my right foot with his so I fall to the mat. "Subject 45, stay back for a second, won't you? I need to speak with you."

I can see the guards move to usher those who want to watch the fight out of the room. I spring up, turning on the Instructor with a roundhouse kick followed by a series of other kicks and punches. The Instructor easily evades all of them.

Once the room is emptied he begins to return my blows. Now that he's not solely evading I manage to land some hits, and so does he. At one point, he breaks through my guard, landing a hit on the side of my head.

I stumble back, slightly disoriented by the blow. The Instructor takes the chance to land a solid blow on my chest, sending me flying backward, landing on the floor, slightly out of breath.

I roll onto my hands and feet, but before I launch off the floor, I realize that I landed right next to the Instructor's discarded gun. So has one of the guards. We both go for it, but being next to it, I reach it first.

I turn it on the guard, pulling the trigger. The guard drops to the floor.

Without hesitating, I spin to the Instructor, who is now practically right in front of me, and pull the trigger.

There's a sharp click followed by silence.

I pull the trigger again with the same result. I look at the Instructor who's standing over me. He smirks. Before I can react, he's caught me up in a headlock.

"So, what was that about not being a killer?" he asks me.

I fight against his grip. "You killed subject 44 for no reason," I growl, scratching at his arm.

"Oh, no, you see, subject 45, those were my orders. The Controllers agreed with the Doctor. They couldn't have subject 44 putting ideas in their favorite pet's pretty little head."

I freeze for a second at his words then start fighting even harder.

He laughs. "Did you two really think they weren't watching you in there? They're always watching." The Instructor begins to press against my windpipe. "The Doctor will be pleased with the results though. You've got a killer in you after all."

He releases me, and I fall to the ground, gasping for air. Two guards walk up and pull me up by either arm.

"Congrats subject 45. You now get to move on to the Fracturing Phase. Doc's looking forward to working with a patient who might actually survive," the Instructor calls after me as the guards drag me to the hallway.

The Instructor didn't have to add that last part. I had heard enough rumors about the Fracturing Phase, not to mention the screams. I'm fighting the guards with all my strength, kicking screaming, and dragging my feet.

Someone shakes me, and I lurch up, swinging. My fist makes contact. I can feel the shock travel up my arm as my vision clears enough to register Eren stumbling back from my bed.

"Eren!" Doctor Airaway calls out.

I look between the two of them, shocked and disoriented. All my nerves are still screaming run. "What- what's going on?" I stammer.

"You were screaming," Doctor Airaway says.

"What?" I ask.

"You nearly scared Cynthia to death. Especially in light of recent events," Eren says, stepping up to my bed, rubbing his arm.

I must have hit his arm. "Sorry," I tell him.

He gives me a smile. "It's fine. You didn't hit my face again."

"Gwen," Doctor Airaway says, drawing my attention back to her, "You looked horrified. You still look pale and shaken. Do you remember why you were screaming?"

My mind flashes between the Instructor shooting subject 44 and being dragged down the hall. I remember the anger and rage turning to panic. I can see subject 44's brown eyes, wide in surprise. I remember feeling helpless. I can feel myself starting to shake. The shot and my screams in the hall echo through my mind.

"Gwen?" Doctor Airaway asks. "What's wrong?"

I clamp my hands over my ears trying to block out the echos. I shake my head, pleading, "Make it stop." I pull my legs up, making myself into a ball.

"Gwen, Gwen. Look at me," I can just make out a muffled voice above the echoing shot and screams.

I can feel my bed shifting beneath me, followed by a hand on my left arm. Surprised, I look left into a set of brown eyes. My panic vanishes, replaced by relief. I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes. "You're alive," I choke out before launching myself forward, nearly knocking him over as I wrap my arms around him, holding him close. I'm sobbing as he wraps his arms around me in response.

There is a burning pain in my side, but I refuse to let go. If I let go, subject 44 will be gone again, and it will be all my fault again.

The arms around me begin to let go, and I tighten mine in response.

"Gwen," Eren's voice whispers in my ear, "You need to let go. You could rip your stitches sitting like this."

My mind comes crashing back to reality as I pull back, wiping my eyes dry, and looking into those brown eyes. They're just as kind and bright, but they aren't the same. These brown eyes belong to Eren, not subject 44.