Post by inakamoto on Feb 2, 2016 4:26:28 GMT -5
As she opened her eyes, Alpha-7 found herself in the middle of a metal arena. The ground was grey, save for various splatters of dried blood. The walls were decorated with weapons of all types. Looking up, she saw various bright lights directly above her. Above the walls, she could see only darkness, but heard a great noise. Voices, thousands of them, all chanting in unison:
“Finish him! Finish him! Finish him!”
Then, Alpha-7 found herself looking downward. And there, at her feet, was the broken body of a demon. He’d suffered a savage beating, several bones were broken, his blood pooling on the ground. The only sign that he was still alive was the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he took deep, desperate breaths. After what seemed like an eternity of staring at the poor creature, she glanced at her hands. She saw they were covered in blood; the demon’s blood. Her knuckles ached, as though she’d been hitting a stone wall, and her fingers felt stiff, like they did after clenching them in a fist for an extended period of time. Her eyes then went back down to the injured demon, as he reached out towards her, his eyes seeming to beg for mercy. All the while, the chanting voices grew even louder…
***
Alpha-7 bolted forward suddenly. It took her a moment to register that she’d fallen asleep. She was no longer in the arena, but in the main performance tent, hidden behind several boxes in the backstage area. She pressed her hand against her chest as she felt her thumping heart. Her hand then went to her forehead as she flopped back against the crate she’d been resting against. The past few days, she and the others had been avoiding most of the other cirque members. All this time, they still weren’t all that well received. It wasn’t unexpected, and Alpha-7 was well aware that they were still adjusting to their presence. Still, it was all the harder to keep up security when they were met with distrustful stares everywhere they went. And with more cirque members joining the fold, it was slowly becoming more difficult to maintain a low profile. Alpha-7 couldn’t help but feel a bit burdened by everything.
Not helping that fact was the nightmare she’d been having. It was the same one she’d had for some years after her arrival at Strato-Form. Every once in a while, it would resurface, and she’d wake up feeling anxious, frightened even. It was one of the few things that really scared her, the one fear that always crept back into her mind.
“You okay?”
Alpha-7 paused a moment, took a quick breath, and turned part-way towards the familiar voice of her partner, “Fine, and you?”
Gun-Max slowly walked over to Alpha-7’s side, sitting down next to her, “You sure? Cuz just now, it sounded like-.”
“I said I’m fine,” Alpha-7 said sharply, turning her gaze away.
There was a brief pause; Gun-Max stared at her, his face hardened.
“You had the nightmare again, didn’t ya?” he asked.
Alpha-7 didn’t answer, her gaze dropping towards the ground.
“Well,” Gun-Max said as he rose to his feet, “I’ll probably check out the kitchen. Let me know when you feel like talking.”
Just as Gun-Max left, Alpha-7 felt herself slouch forward, and pull her knees towards her chest. She knew he was only trying to help. The trouble was he couldn’t help. No one could help her with this terrible burden she bore; the burden of her past. The nightmare had been on her mind ever since the recent kidnapping of the children, when she was confronted by that phantom form of GLaDOS, and reminded of the shame she bore from her past. There was no denying, she had done many terrible things, and the guilt she felt had slowly become stronger in the days after the fall of Strato-Form. But the thought that frightened her most was the possibility that there were more sins she hadn’t been held accountable for.
Alpha-7 had no true recollection of her identity before arriving at Aperture Science. Even recalling her days on the streets, her earliest clear memory was of waking up in a river bank, near a sewer drainage pipe. Those days now felt as though she were living through a fog, barely aware of anything beyond the basic survival instincts. After the operation, her mind had been given clarity and order. She was able to think more clearly, and given a chance at a better life. But it was after receiving that clarity that the nightmares started. And after so many years of experiencing it, and thinking about its meaning, there was only one possible conclusion she could reach: it was a memory; her memory. The only clue to her unknown past, the briefest hint at what kind of person she was, and it was the image of that half-dead demon, and the sight of its blood on her hands.
There was no chance for respite for Alpha-7, not with this horrible implication weighing down on her mind. It was like the phantom had told her, 'You're nothing but a killer. Always have been, and always will be.' And as much as she told herself she was wrong, that she could change her ways, the nightmare always managed to creep back into her mind, as though it were a constant reminder of a terrible life that had been lost to her.
As she rose to her feet, Alpha-7's mind began to circulate various questions about the dream. They were the same questions she'd thought to herself every time she had the nightmare. Where was that arena, why was she fighting, who were those chanting people? But the most daunting question of all, what did she feel in that moment? Guilt, confusion, revelation...enjoyment? There was no way to tell.
Alpha-7 stuffed her hands into her pockets as she made her way out of the backstage area. As she left, she began to wonder about what the other cirque members would say if they knew about the terrible secret she carried inside her mind? The thought was almost equally as frightening.
Best not to think about it, Alpha-7 thought to herself.
“Finish him! Finish him! Finish him!”
Then, Alpha-7 found herself looking downward. And there, at her feet, was the broken body of a demon. He’d suffered a savage beating, several bones were broken, his blood pooling on the ground. The only sign that he was still alive was the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he took deep, desperate breaths. After what seemed like an eternity of staring at the poor creature, she glanced at her hands. She saw they were covered in blood; the demon’s blood. Her knuckles ached, as though she’d been hitting a stone wall, and her fingers felt stiff, like they did after clenching them in a fist for an extended period of time. Her eyes then went back down to the injured demon, as he reached out towards her, his eyes seeming to beg for mercy. All the while, the chanting voices grew even louder…
***
Alpha-7 bolted forward suddenly. It took her a moment to register that she’d fallen asleep. She was no longer in the arena, but in the main performance tent, hidden behind several boxes in the backstage area. She pressed her hand against her chest as she felt her thumping heart. Her hand then went to her forehead as she flopped back against the crate she’d been resting against. The past few days, she and the others had been avoiding most of the other cirque members. All this time, they still weren’t all that well received. It wasn’t unexpected, and Alpha-7 was well aware that they were still adjusting to their presence. Still, it was all the harder to keep up security when they were met with distrustful stares everywhere they went. And with more cirque members joining the fold, it was slowly becoming more difficult to maintain a low profile. Alpha-7 couldn’t help but feel a bit burdened by everything.
Not helping that fact was the nightmare she’d been having. It was the same one she’d had for some years after her arrival at Strato-Form. Every once in a while, it would resurface, and she’d wake up feeling anxious, frightened even. It was one of the few things that really scared her, the one fear that always crept back into her mind.
“You okay?”
Alpha-7 paused a moment, took a quick breath, and turned part-way towards the familiar voice of her partner, “Fine, and you?”
Gun-Max slowly walked over to Alpha-7’s side, sitting down next to her, “You sure? Cuz just now, it sounded like-.”
“I said I’m fine,” Alpha-7 said sharply, turning her gaze away.
There was a brief pause; Gun-Max stared at her, his face hardened.
“You had the nightmare again, didn’t ya?” he asked.
Alpha-7 didn’t answer, her gaze dropping towards the ground.
“Well,” Gun-Max said as he rose to his feet, “I’ll probably check out the kitchen. Let me know when you feel like talking.”
Just as Gun-Max left, Alpha-7 felt herself slouch forward, and pull her knees towards her chest. She knew he was only trying to help. The trouble was he couldn’t help. No one could help her with this terrible burden she bore; the burden of her past. The nightmare had been on her mind ever since the recent kidnapping of the children, when she was confronted by that phantom form of GLaDOS, and reminded of the shame she bore from her past. There was no denying, she had done many terrible things, and the guilt she felt had slowly become stronger in the days after the fall of Strato-Form. But the thought that frightened her most was the possibility that there were more sins she hadn’t been held accountable for.
Alpha-7 had no true recollection of her identity before arriving at Aperture Science. Even recalling her days on the streets, her earliest clear memory was of waking up in a river bank, near a sewer drainage pipe. Those days now felt as though she were living through a fog, barely aware of anything beyond the basic survival instincts. After the operation, her mind had been given clarity and order. She was able to think more clearly, and given a chance at a better life. But it was after receiving that clarity that the nightmares started. And after so many years of experiencing it, and thinking about its meaning, there was only one possible conclusion she could reach: it was a memory; her memory. The only clue to her unknown past, the briefest hint at what kind of person she was, and it was the image of that half-dead demon, and the sight of its blood on her hands.
There was no chance for respite for Alpha-7, not with this horrible implication weighing down on her mind. It was like the phantom had told her, 'You're nothing but a killer. Always have been, and always will be.' And as much as she told herself she was wrong, that she could change her ways, the nightmare always managed to creep back into her mind, as though it were a constant reminder of a terrible life that had been lost to her.
As she rose to her feet, Alpha-7's mind began to circulate various questions about the dream. They were the same questions she'd thought to herself every time she had the nightmare. Where was that arena, why was she fighting, who were those chanting people? But the most daunting question of all, what did she feel in that moment? Guilt, confusion, revelation...enjoyment? There was no way to tell.
Alpha-7 stuffed her hands into her pockets as she made her way out of the backstage area. As she left, she began to wonder about what the other cirque members would say if they knew about the terrible secret she carried inside her mind? The thought was almost equally as frightening.
Best not to think about it, Alpha-7 thought to herself.