9 MONTHS AFTER WAKING

I paced back and forth in my room, going over anatomical structures and the body’s weak points in my head. Today was the day; my final combat exam until Father approved my deployment and I was allowed to work as a superhero on the streets again. I was so excited to finally go outside after so long cooped up in the facility! I wanted to learn what the sun felt like on my skin, and breathe in fresh air that hadn’t been filtered through the building’s air-conditioning system. My training had become particularly brutal ever since I started combat training, and Father had become twice as strict, but soon, all of that effort would be worth it.

I flicked my wrist, pulling a whip of shadow from the ground and lashing it forward at the empty air, imagining my target collapsing in a heap from my attack. Combat training usually involved practising with instructors or taking out a set number of dummies as quickly as possible, but today I would be fighting actual criminals. Hardened, violent bad guys, dead-set on cracking my skull open and spilling my brains across the floor, or so father said. The thought made my stomach swirl, but I’d been practising hard for three months, working myself to collapse day after day, building my muscles, studying cqc techniques, researching the structure of the human body to better understand how to take it down efficiently, taking hit after hit to further engrain Father’s mantra into my soul.

It was difficult. Regardless of whether or not pain was real, those injuries still affected me, still slowed me down, even if the sensation they were causing was fake. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t completely internalise the concept of pain not being real. Even after countless late nights spent digging knives into my skin to practise ignoring the sensation, I could just never block it out completely, and then the tears would inevitably come as well. I’d gotten better at holding back my emotions when things were upsetting me, just like Father wanted, but I still had some work to do. Even my other emotions were beginning to be marked ‘off-limits,’ like surprise and excitement. Father said that I needed to start suppressing them. Expressing emotion was a distraction, and I needed to keep them to myself. It was what everyone else did, apparently. I guessed I just still had a lot to learn about how to function as a person again.

The door opened and I immediately spun around, straightening my back and clasping my hands behind myself, standing at the ready. Father stood in the doorway, looking me over appraisingly.

“Are you prepared for the final exam, Jordyn?”

I nodded. “Yes, Father.”

He nodded in turn. “Follow me. I have something for you.”

I held back my curiosity as he left the room, falling into place a half-step behind him and to his right, as he’d been training me to do. We made our way through the hallways of the facility with purpose, scientists and other personnel ducking out of our path lest they be caught up in Father’s intimidating aura. I found it funny that they were all so afraid of him; the edge of my lip quirking up despite my attempt to hold back my grin. He was only scary when you made him angry or disappointed him in some way. As long as you were good, he would treat you with the respect you deserved. Granted, he had been smiling at me a lot less over the past few months, and he had barely touched me outside of painful reprimands ever since my early rehabilitation had finished, but that was simply because I didn’t need those things to motivate me anymore. Following Father’s commands was its own reward.

We reached a door and Father unlocked it with the keypad on the wall before entering. It was dark inside, but as the door slid closed behind us, a light turned on, illuminating the room, and the surprise that laid within.

A suit of hi-tech jet-black armour stood at the far end of the room, so dark that it seemed to absorb the light around it. I stepped closer, overtaken by awe, before glancing back at Father as if to confirm what I was thinking.

“It’s yours, Jordyn. It took a long time to finish. I trust you’ll take good care of it?”

“Y-yes, yes, of course. Th-thank you, Father,” I stammered out, tentatively reaching forward to touch the armour. The metal was cool under my fingers – strong and sturdy. The thought of donning it alleviated some of the apprehension I was feeling towards the exam. Even if I took a few hits, this could protect me. “Can… Can I put it on?”

“Go ahead. There are latches under the armpits.”

Sure enough, I found them right where he said, and when I pulled them, the armour opened up like a blooming flower; the front of the chestplate coming away in my hands as the arms and legs split apart at the front to make way for my limbs. The inside seemed to be padded with some soft material.

“Lightweight, sweat absorbent, self-cooling, and strong enough to stop a bullet from a sniper rifle,” Father said. “Designed to generate shadows between the joints regardless of light level to allow you to fight with your powers no matter the situation. Each piece can be removed separately, or it can all stand together as it is now. It’s a work of art, tailor-made to your exact measurements and requirements. You should be very grateful, Jordyn. This suit cost a lot of money to make.”

Grateful didn’t even begin to cover it. My entire body shook with excitement. “I- I don’t know what to say…”

“Put it on, Jordyn,” Father said, sounding a little impatient now. “Your exam begins soon. There will be consequences if you are late.”

That got me to move. I turned around and backed into the armour, pulling the chestplate into place until the latches clicked. It was a tight fit, but not uncomfortably so, pushing my breasts securely against my chest while still leaving enough room that it wasn’t suffocating or restricting. With that connected, I moved my arms and legs into their respective limbs of the armour and it closed around me, the seams sealing shut. Now fully closed in, I stepped forward. It was surprisingly easy to move in. I jumped up and down a couple of times just to test it, and it didn’t feel any different than if I’d been wearing my regular clothes. There was a mirror in the corner of the room. I approached it, anxious to see how I looked.

Usually, I made a point of avoiding mirrors. Between my unwillingly shaven head and the scar on my face that had become jagged and bumpy after getting infected thanks to my poor stitching job, they generally brought more pain than benefit. Today, however, it was easy to overlook all of that. The armour fit me like a second skin, following the contours of my body with only a little added bulk, aside from the neckline, which stretched almost all the way to my chin with protective plating. The darkness of it only seemed to deepen the blacks of my eyes and hair. I looked… intimidating. I supposed that was a good thing.

Father stepped behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. My heart jumped in excitement at the extremely rare touch, only to fall again when I realised I couldn’t feel it at all through the dark metal.

“Does it feel good?” he asked.

I nodded, tapping my fingers against my chest and noting how I couldn’t even feel them when I used force. It was a little disconcerting. While the armour certainly made me feel powerful and protected, I also felt… locked away from the outside world, in a way. Even more than I already was, stuck in the facility.

Father walked away, returning after a few seconds with something black in his hands. The helmet; the final piece of the armour. On the surface it looked like a simple chunk of smooth, mostly rounded metal, with no visible eyeholes, but I knew better than to believe that. The front-facing part had a ridge along where the eyes should be, and another travelling downward through the middle, giving the whole thing the affect of a menacing frown. I didn’t think I wanted to put it on with the way the rest of the armour was making me feel, but with Father’s clear insistence, I knew I had no choice.

I pulled the helmet over my head and the woman in my reflection disappeared; replaced by a faceless, dark soldier. Just as I’d thought; I could still see somehow. A number appeared in the corner of my vision, and I recognised it as my heart rate; 82 beats per minute. Apparently, the suit was monitoring my vitals somehow as well.

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“From now on, you will wear this armour at all times, except for when you are in your room. Do you understand, Jordyn?”

Something inside of me sunk. I supposed I should have expected this. Of course I would need to wear my armour all the time to be an effective superhero. I just… didn’t like how I couldn’t see my face at all anymore. I didn’t like that I couldn’t feel the breeze of the air-conditioning, or the touch of my own skin when I hugged myself. Was this what it meant to be a hero? If so, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to be one anymore. Still, I owed it to Father for saving me, and it was what he wanted.

“How will I eat?” I asked, my voice coming out deep and electronic-sounding. It made my gut wrench.

“The mouthpiece of the helmet can be removed. Now, answer the question, Jordyn. Do you understand?”

“I understand, Father.”

He smiled, and while it did make me feel all tingly like usual, it couldn’t hold back the shadow of regret hanging at the back of my mind like a noxious cloud. This was just my life now, I supposed. Free to move around the facility mostly at will; yet still locked behind a screen, unable to actually reach out and touch anything with my own fingers. It brought back memories I’d almost forgotten; of being surrounded by nothing but green, warm and protective, but keeping me secured away from the world beyond. Apparently, this was a recurring thing for me. I was better off just getting used to it.

—

I stood in the centre of the room, fists clenched, heartrate rising, waiting in horrible anticipation for the exam to begin. My rapid breathing was making the inside of the helmet humid and muggy, but there was no way I could take it off, considering the threat I was about to face. All of the doors were locked, and there weren’t any windows, but I knew Father was watching somehow. Sooner or later, one of those doors was going to open, and criminals would come pouring out, ready to slit my throat. I needed to be ready.

Sure enough, a buzzer went off, and a door in the far wall opened. Three people in orange jumpsuits stepped out - two men and a woman - peering around the room before focusing on me. They each carried a weapon; a tire iron, a knife, a baseball bat. Adrenaline rushed through my body and I dropped into a fighting stance, prepared to take them on.

None of them approached. They watched me, sizing me up and circling around cautiously, but no one moved in for an attack. I didn't understand. Weren't they supposed to basically be bloodthirsty animals? These people just looked… scared.

I remembered what Father had told me; about how I had to be aggressive when it came to criminals, and how they would hide their intentions behind a sob story and a sad expression. Just because these people looked scared didn’t mean they weren’t about to jump at me. I had to take the initiative. One of the men was the closest; a bald man with a beard. He was my first target.

I charged towards him, gathering shadows from the seams in my armour and balling them around my fist. He stumbled backwards in surprise at my rush, but I didn’t give him the opportunity to get away, sending a spike of darkness at his legs. It sunk into his knee with a horrible crunch and he screamed, dropping to the floor.

The attack got the other two moving, shocked out of their attempt to lull me into a false sense of security. The woman with the knife lunged, but I grabbed her wrist and twisted it around behind her, tugging and pulling her shoulder out of its socket before kicking her back to the ground.

Another door in front of me opened and three more orange-suited criminals came out. I was about to move towards them when something smashed me in the back of the head. I stumbled forward in a daze and turned to find the last man from the first batch, bat primed for another swing. My armour had defended me from the brunt of the hit, but the concussive force still had me stumbling, and the shock made my adrenaline spike even further. The bat came at me again, but this time I was ready, ducking under it and sending my fist into the man’s gut. He doubled over and I swept his legs out from under him, grabbing the bat on the way down and breaking his arm for good measure.

A hit to the back of my knee had my leg buckling, but I managed not to trip, turning and sending a wave of shadow out to make some space between myself and the next batch of enemies, launching them back a few feet. There were two in front of me, and-

The third appeared from outside of my vision and swung a crowbar into my ribs, knocking the wind out of me. My fist shot out and slammed into his face in response, crushing his nose and probably a few teeth as well. Shadows lashed as he stumbled back, whipping about and cutting his arm almost all the way through. He screamed and dropped the crowbar. The sound made me feel sick.

Another door opened. More criminals rushed out. The other two were still coming at me. I pulled my shadows back and launched them at one man, sending him flying across the room. The other took the opportunity to jam a knife into the space between my shoulder and chest plates.

My muscles seized, pain rocketing through my arm. I cried out and my shadows flared, slashing through the air in front of me. There was another scream, and a spurt of blood obscured my vision. I stumbled back, frantically trying to wipe it off. I heard another door open. Something hit me over the head and I fell. I tried to roll away, tried to make some space, but my back hit a wall. My chest hurt. I wasn’t getting enough air. Something banged against the armour over my abdomen, then again, and again.

The lights went out.

I screamed, my shadows rampaging in the sudden darkness, tearing through flesh and breaking bone with reckless abandon. Black tendrils wrapped around my body, cutting into my skin and drawing blood. I cradled my head, curling in on myself and trying to regain any semblance of control over my powers. My helmet came off and I sucked in as much air as I could. I needed to get the armour off. It was suffocating me. My heart was going to explode. I scrambled at the latches under my arms, trying to find purchase on them with shaking, slippery fingers.

Just as quickly as they had turned off, the lights came back on again.

Everything was red.

Every person in the room aside from me was dead, lying scattered in pieces all over the place, blood and viscera painted across the floors and walls and my armour. I… I wasn’t supposed to kill them. I was only supposed to incapacitate them. This… It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. I was going to fail. Father was going to be disappointed. The thought made the shadows in the room flicker angrily and I flinched away from them.

The door to the observation room opened and I yelped, sending lances of shadow flying towards the danger. The door quickly shut again, and a hissing sound filled the room. The scent of gore was quickly replaced with something sweet, and my eyelids grew heavy. I tried to stand up, but my legs weren’t responding. Darkness was closing in again. It… It was almost comforting now. I stopped fighting it and fell back against the blood-slicked floor, letting my eyes fall shut and succumbing to the encroaching sleep.

—

I woke up in my room, staring up at the ceiling. Pain radiated from my shoulder, and a headache was pounding against the inside of my skull, but overall, I seemed to be alright. That horrible choking panic was gone, and my skin felt fine where I’d thought my shadows were cutting me. Carefully, I lifted my head, looking down at myself. I was in my underwear with bandages wrapped around my injured shoulder, that black armour nowhere to be seen. It would be a lie if I said I was upset about that.

Father sat at my bedside, watching me with a sharp expression. My breath hitched, heart rate spiking. I’d failed the exam. I’d failed him.

“I’m disappointed, Jordyn. Such a strong start, only for you to lose your composure halfway through, and in such an explosive manner, too. You’re lucky that all of those prisoners were convicted death row inmates, or we would be in a lot of trouble right now.” He shook his head. “It’s clear. I’ve been too soft on you. I’ve allowed you too many freedoms. I’ve allowed this weakness to fester inside of you, and now I must cut it out.”

“B-but Father-”

My voice cut off as an incredible pain shot through my system, seizing up my muscles and arching my back. A strangled scream squeezed its way out of my throat. Arcs of burning agony travelled down my limbs through my nervous system, coalescing in one tiny, white-hot point in the back of my neck. I couldn’t breathe, my lungs unresponsive to any request for air. My tendons strained under the pressure being forced upon them. Muscle fibres tore and ripped. Joints creaked and groaned under the weight of my own body pulling itself apart. I was going to die.

Just as quickly as it began, the pain stopped. I slumped back onto the bed, panting and writhing, heart thundering in my ears.

“You will not speak to me out of turn, Jordyn. You will not act out of turn. If I do not order you to do something, you will not do it. You will not speak unless I order it. You will not eat unless I order it. You will not even go to the bathroom unless I order it. Do you understand?”

I shakily nodded, too scared to open my mouth lest the pain started again.

“If I order you to do something, you will do it immediately and without question. You will stay by my side at all times unless I tell you otherwise. You are not a person, Jordyn. You are a weapon. I created you to be the sword of my conquest, and I can just as easily discard you, just as I have discarded those who came before you. You are lucky that I have even given you a name. You are nothing more than the Seventh Attempt. There can just as easily be an Eighth.”

I didn’t understand what he was saying. None of it made any sense. ‘Created?’ ‘Seventh Attempt?’ I didn’t know what that meant. He was my Father; obviously he created me, right? I nodded along just to be safe, despite my lack of understanding.

Father sighed. “The next exam is in three months. Do not disappoint me again, seven.” He stood up. “You will remain in your room until I come and get you tomorrow. I suggest you spend your time thinking about exactly why you failed today.”

With that, he walked out. I watched the door shut behind him, the interior keypad’s screen turning red to signify the exterior lock. My ears rang. My chest hurt. My insides felt hollow. I looked back up at the ceiling and did my very best to keep my tears from falling out. Good soldiers didn’t cry, after all.

I couldn’t afford to fail him again.