Test Subject 17

4. New Recruits (2)

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"AJ!! Stop tickling mee!" Nat yells, laughing as my small fingers viscously attack her sides. Laughs and giggles fill the room and I keep going. She rolls over in an attempt to get me to stop, but it was pointless. No one can run from my tickling fingers!! I crawl back to her and begin again.

"Never!!" I laugh. As she rolls again, my jacket sleeve gets caught and I fall down on top of her stomach, really close to her legs. My face gets super warm and hers goes red. Quickly sitting up, we stare at each other and laugh awkwardly.

I may only be 6, but I know that a girl's place is special. Mommy told me this much, promising to tell me more when I'm older. I try my best not to think about it but it just makes me blush more and more.

"Hey AJ?" Nat calls, pulling me from my weird and awkward thoughts and feelings. I look at her, the heat still in my cheeks and she starts fiddling with her fingers. "Do you think we'll be like this when we get older? Y'know...best friends?" I look up at the ceiling of my living room before smiling.

"Definitely! We're best friends for life!" I exclaim, giving her a huge grin and a thumbs up. Nat cheers and hugs me. As I wrap my arms around her, hugging back, I start to wonder...am I lying to her?

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A twinge of hurt settles in my chest and I find myself looking down and feeling horrible for promising something that I couldn't make sure of. I hear the rest of the kids filing in and my head snaps up.

"Alright. Everyone take a seat," a random Over barks at the kids when the last one trickles in. They all sit where they stand, staring at me. I stand in the front of a gymnasium-like room, minus the nets, lines, and bleachers, arms resting behind me. There was a large black mat in the very center where the kids would be going against each other.

"Today we shall not be sparring. The Superiors want 17 to teach you in," she pauses, looking at a paper, "using your abilities. I'm sure you all know what they are." They all nod, a few glancing in my direction, only to be met with a stare. The Over looks at me, giving me the floor to speak. I take a step next to her, looking out at the small ocean of kids, my heart pounding slightly.

"I'm 17, the God of this Arena. What that means is you answer to me. You were all brought here for a reason," I yell loud enough for my voice to carry to everyone, scanning their face and taking in their distinctness. "To hone and access abilities you wouldn't be able to anywhere else. Those of you who are new, may not remember what happens or how you got here. You were saved by an organization called STYA, or Specially Talented Youth Association. This is now your home. And it forever will be."

A few people look around the room at the many kids, and I can tell by the confused looks on their faces that they're the newer ones, possibly kids that were just brought in, but nevertheless, I continue my introductory speech, "The people that had you before is a secret company called The Youth Defenders. They believe they are helping you when they are torturing you and beating you and even conducting ruthless experiments. Which is why some of you may have scars, marks, and or bruises." Lies. All of it. I had a home before this. I had a family, friends, people that cared about me. And these people took them away.

"To make sure you are not affected by these people, we have extracted your memories, up until you reach here," the Over lady says, her voice still loud and booming. "We need your help to take them down. If you remember anything about your life before, let us know."

"But to help us, you will go through intense training, some of it may include near-death experiences, but I assure you, this is for your own benefit," I end. The kids look like they could cheer almost. "Now, we will separate you. If you have gotten here within the week, stand by this corner," I say, pointing to the far back of the room and to the left. Around 20 kids stand and walk over, including the few who are a bit nervous. "If you got here last week, up until the first of this month, stand in the back corner opposite the others." More kids stand, walking over. And we're left with the kids that have been here for a month or more.

One of the new kids raises his hand, scared. "Question?" The others look at him. He nods slowly, trembling. He has black hair, milk chocolate-colored skin hair, and glasses.

"H-how long have you um..b-been here?" His stutter makes a few of the others snicker. I give them the death glare, and they shift uncomfortably.

"I've been here since I was 6. I am now 19," I explain, my face not changing a bit. His eyes widen, as do a few others. 13 years...has it really been that long?

"Th-thirteen years?" I nod my head. "H-have you ever wanted to leave?" I feel my face darken at his question and a glance at the female next to me tells me she has too. So she knows the truth and still chooses to work here, knowing what's going on.

My teeth clench at the thought and I feel resentment start to grow from within my chest.