Captured

The boy had cracked so quickly. Usually they were stronger, they lasted longer and put up more of a fight. But then again, they had never taken children before. They were never supposed to take children.

His screams, which had now silenced themselves into whimpers, were still echoing in her head. She had tried to be gentle, but the tests weren’t designed that way. They were designed to get results. To get the blood.

There was so much blood.

She shook her head, strands of auburn hair falling into her face, and continued with the job that was laid out in front of her. The pointed syringes were lined in rows of five, some tainted with the blood that she had just acquired and others as shiny as they were when she first laid her eyes on them. She smiled at the thought. Back in the days when she was only a tech, she never had to take anything from anyone. She only tested it, taking the results right to the commander without knowing what they were for. She had no worries, just job security and a nice little office that she spent her days in.

She was so naïve.

She picked up the bloody syringes and threw them into the yellow boxes labelled Medical Waste that she was all too familiar with. The vials of blood were lined up along the metal tables, waiting their turn to be tested and she turned to grab them, ready to start her long night of work.

“Please.” She heard a whisper from behind her, the voice small and cracked. She turned and faced the boy, trying to mask the guilt in her eyes. His skin was pale and splattered with red, his lips were cracked and his eyes seemed almost void of life. Tears were rolling down his cheeks and it took everything in her not to look away.

The sound of the sliding door shook the emotions out of her as she stood up straight, ready to address the person walking towards her. He was in camouflage from head to toe, though it always struck her as odd because they were surrounded by steel and glass, and he had a stern face, with eyes that peered straight ahead and lips that rested in a straight line.

“The commander would like a full report,” he boomed, that seemed to be the only volume option his voice had. She inhaled a shaky breath and exhaled slowly, thinking over her words before they came spilling from her mouth.

“I should stay with him and finish the blood tests,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. Direct orders for the commander were never to be questioned, but something was telling her she needed to stay.

The man looked stunned for a minute, clearly not accustomed to someone not immediately obeying, before finding the words, “We’ll take care of him.”

She wanted to speak again, to protest and convince them she needed to stay, but the look on his face reminded her why she always obeyed. His eyes were narrows and the hands at his sides had turned themselves into fists. She was sure he wasn’t above knocking her out if that’s what it came to, and she wasn’t about stay to find out.

“Yes sir,” she said, giving him a nod before turning to secure the blood that had yet to be worked on. She turned towards the door and stopped, just for a minute, to lock eyes with the boy. His eyes were a deep shade of desperate and he was silently sobbing, all of the energy he had left being used in the heaving of his chest. She cast her eyes downward and moved quickly to the door, the sliding sound giving her no comfort as they separated her from the person that was trapped on the table.

It took everything she had to block out the screams that she was leaving behind.