elimination

I enter Practical Training with quick feet, my mind dragging behind me. Doomsday and Apocalypse are having a conversation at the front of the room that remains just out of reach of my prying ears. Doomsday’s cold eyes roll over us, a small smile. I bristle in anger. She begins to speak. “Today we will be doing an activity that does not directly pertain to the subject matter covered in Past Events.” The shock and relief in the room is almost audible as the entire class exhales collectively letting themselves slump back into a slightly more human posture. Doomsday continues, looking vaguely annoyed at our reactions. “The activity in question is also not so much a test of willpower as it is a test of physical stamina.” At this I become slightly uneasy remembering Switch’s report about the biohazard bags. Yet my anxiety is nowhere near the level it was at before when I thought I was going to have my tongue yanked out. I chuckle for a second, I suppose if it was removed I wouldn’t have to waste so much effort refraining from asking inappropriate questions.

Apocalypse emerges from one of the many back rooms with a tiny metal crate filled with small black balls about ten times the size of a pill. He sets it down by Doomsday’s feet. She picks up one of the balls with her dainty claw and holds it for the class to see. “This will be simple and efficient. Each of you will come up to the front and grab a sphere, then you will line up against the wall in an orderly fashion and place it in your mouths. Your only task is to ingest it.” The entire class looks profoundly confused, the black things in front of us are entirely solid and far too big to swallow. Reluctantly we each do as Doomsday says, each grabbing a sphere and lining up against the smooth grey wall. The ball is solid, yet not terribly hard. It has a grainy feeling consistency, like thousands of tiny stones chunked together.

Upon Doomsday’s word I reluctantly place the object in my mouth where I move it to the inside of my right cheek. For a moment nothing happens, then my mouth bursts into flame as the most vile tasting thing known to mankind poisons my saliva and sears my cheek. My first instinct is to spit it out, yet somehow I manage to keep in in. I bring my hand to my mouth as saliva begins to pool uncontrollably leaving a ring of drool where my hand touched my lips. My eyes begin to water and sting as it occurs to me that the wretched object in my mouth has started to rapidly dissolve.

After a few more moments of burning agony the thing is gone, leaving me with watering eyes and a putrid taste in my mouth. I look around the room. With the exception of the few idiots who choked to death, and the handful of people who Apocalypse removed after they projectile vomited their spheres across the room, everyone appears fine. The atmosphere around me has relaxed yet again, after an entire day of worrying about getting sawed in half we are finally free to breathe.

Suddenly a quarter of everyone erupts into complete peril as people begin to vomit and defecate. Their faces swell, their skin forming ugly red marks. Doomsday immediately runs into combat trying to deal with the situation while people run around frantically, panic equal between those who are entirely fine and those at the brink of death. I feel fine so far. My first concern is finding 12 amidst the chaos. Finally I spot her in the corner with Switch. Both of them look completely fine, with the exception of Switch’s facial expression which is that of utter panic. I follow his gaze to 14 who is lying on the ground unmoving.

Without a second thought I begin to run to him dodging people left and right until suddenly I stop, reeling forward from the inertia. What am I doing? Motive for affiliation is forbidden. People are going to believe the rumors about 14 and I. I’m going to be killed. I’m not going to make it to Level Three. Panicked thoughts shoot through my brain like bullets, ricocheting off the inside of my skull again and again as my blood pressure rises. The momentum from my previous sprint is too much to allow for my sudden stop, I tilt forward breaking out of my frozen indecisiveness and falling to the ground. I quickly get up and continue running to 14, remembering the older girl I had seen years ago, the determination in her dark blue-grey eyes and the way she growled at me to pay attention to her compressions.

I begin to steadily compress his chest, entirely unsure of what I am doing. I vaguely remember how neither the victim nor the hero made it out of that icy day. I shove the thought aside, my own stormy blue eyes burning with determination. Breathe, I plead, please just breathe, breathe. Bullets buzz through my brain with increasing speed as panic takes every nerve in my body and stretches it to the breaking point. I desperately fight with my entire being, please, I whisper, please. Finally I hear a gasp for breath and dark eyelashes flutter parting to reveal scared green eyes.

Exhausted I begin to fall backward in relief only to be brutally kicked in my right side. Looking up I expect to see Doomsday or Apocalypse, but instead I am greeted by the cold face of One who for the first time in her life has entirely lost her composure. She is jumping up and down and screaming madly, but I can’t hear her over the chaos of the room. My eyes follow where she is pointing, Dagger is lying unconscious a few feet away. I can read the words save her on her perfectly sculpted lips as she looks at me as though I am a newly discovered miracle cure that she can administer at her will. My legs spring up, not bothering to wait for consent from my brain as I run to Dagger and begin the compressions.

I ought to stop. I ought to escape. Delete this situation. It’s entirely illogical. She is the competition; this is someone I despise. This is going to get me killed. Why am I doing this? Tears begin to pool in my eyes as utter confusion sweeps through me, still I pound on waiting for Dagger to draw breath. I have never felt such fear, such adrenaline, such exhaustion. Suddenly I feel inhumanly strong hands clutching my back and pulling me away. I let out an animalistic scream turning and jolting like a fish out of water. I smack my head back into my aggressor using the full blunt of my meager body weight and leaving my ears ringing. Somehow it works and I am able to go back down for another compression, yet this time there is extra wright behind me as my aggressor falls as well sending my hands crashing down on Dagger’s chest with such force that I feel her ribs give way underneath me with a sickening crunch. There is now a dent in her side. A meaningless expletive of my own creation comes unbidden from my lips as One lets out a screech of hysteria and I am dragged away leaving Dagger’s dented corpse behind me. Why did I do this? I am truly stupid, absolutely, entirely, brilliantly stupid.

I fight with all my strength sending my right boot backward so that it hits (who I now realize must be) Apocalypse squarely in the genitals. He doesn’t flinch, or even bother to tighten his grip across my abdomen and neck. I have never before felt so utterly helpless, I feel like a caged animal, a gerbil or rat. I open my mouth to utter some word of protest yet no words come out. Instead a bubbly, white substance dribbles down my chin. Foam? Without warning Apocalypse stops moving, holding me still as Doomsday approaches from the side. I feel a cold, sharp metal thing prick in my neck and the rush of fluid. My mind grows fuzzy as my eyes begin to close around the muddled scene in front of me. The entire room has stopped to watch my exit, looks of utter bafflement fill their faces. I catch 12′s gaze for half a second; there’s a darkness to her eyes. 14 is still on the ground, dead, alive, or somewhere in between. Before the world is entirely engulfed by black dots I notice one last thing, a look from One. A look of pure hatred.