Routine

The movement was swift, barely making a sound save for the choked noise that escaped her lips. My eyes were hooded as I watched blood spill out of her mouth and drip down her chin. Gently, I pulled my spear from her stomach and wiped the blade against my thigh as my victim’s body fell in defeat, her eyes still wide and frozen in fear.  

Her body would be ravaged by wild animals soon enough, and then any remnants of her would be decomposed into the earth. I scowled.

“Mother’s dead,” I confirmed, hearing my earpiece buzz before Chyoh replied. “Good work, we’ve captured the child. Let’s head back.”  

Above me, a nest of hungry birds called out to their mother. I glanced up, wondering how long they’d have to scream until they would be fed. Their cries were so desperate, so sure that they’d be answered. Averting my gaze from the body, I made my way back to our base. The damp forest floor felt cool under my bare feet, washing away the dried blood that caked my heels.  

This was my job. I chased. I hunted. I killed. It was quite simple actually, like the mundaneness of brushing your teeth every morning. That’s what this was, a routine. Never ending, never changing, never... never getting easier.  

Bile rose in my throat, burning like acid. I swallowed in down as I approached the entrance to our base. My team were waiting for me along with the four captives, including the child. The child who I’d just orphaned. He was wrapped in the arms of a man a year or two younger than me. The man glanced up to lock eyes with me, pure hatred and disgust gleamed behind his calm façade.  

It wasn’t my place to question why we murdered so many of them, or why we took them as prisoners. It wasn’t wise to do so. That’s how doubt would creep in, late at night, in the form of screams and cries and curses. I’d wake up in cold sweat, panting, my chest caving and my lungs straining. My throat would close, tears would stream down my flushed cheeks.  

No, it wasn’t my place at all.  

*** 

“I said, get back!” a voice boomed. I stopped in the middle of jog, breathing deeply to calm my racing heart. To the left of the running tracks, prisoners were being moved to the new holding cells. They were closer to the labs, so the commandant thought it would be more efficient to shift them.  

“He’s tired! He’s just a little kid!” a prisoner argued, holding a limp child in her arms. I recognised them from earlier in the day. She was new, probably free up until today. She’d never been through the labs before.  

I turned to resume my jog, but not before I heard the crunch of bones breaking and a guttural scream. It was part of my routine. As simple as brushing your teeth, only my gums felt a little raw now.  

*** 

Another sleepless night. My eyes were heavy and my brain was scattered, but my body needed to move. I’d clocked in an hour ago for night patrols, hoping it would tire me. My route took me past the labs that were situated at the end of the hallway on the fifth floor.  

Walking past the glass partition, I could see each captive in their illuminated cell. Some were crouched in a corner; some were clawing at the transparent walls, desperate for an escape. The latter had probably been through a couple rounds of testing, giving them a taste of how they’d be broken down each day spent here.  

A select few were quiet, their legs crossed, hands held in front of them. Their eyes were glazed over, a shield of sorts created to blur their pain. These prisoners must have been here for months now. They must have experienced several tests, gone through a number of treatments. They were broken.  

Shivers shot down my spine, but I blocked them out and forced myself forward, continuing down my path. It was all a part of my routine, like brushing my teeth. My gums were starting to bleed, warm liquid filled my mouth.  

*** 

“A group of rebels were reported not far from Chii village. Three woman, two men and six children.” Chyoh grunted as she shoved on her boots. I nodded, strapping on my protective vest. “Larger than we can handle if they split up. Let’s try to keep them herded.” I looked up to meet her eyes. 

With that, my team and I were off on our next hunt. We jogged past the prisoner line being escorted to the field. They’d be given an hour to stretch and exercise under strict supervision before they were taken back into holding.  

My gaze directed at an elderly woman who struggled to keep up with the rest of the line. Her face was contorted in pain while she limped a few feet behind the end, trembling. None of the guards seemed to notice or care. Something within me burned.  

I knew she wouldn’t last much longer, but that information would be useless to me now. The thought was soon shaken out of my mind. Another part of my routine, like brushing my teeth, with warm blood now coating the brush and dripping down my chin. Its metallic tang soaked my tongue.  

*** 

The night was still and silent, almost peaceful. All I could hear was the tapping of my boots against the cold marble floor as I walked the length of my patrolling route. I passed the dorms where my fellow teammates slept and the cafeteria we used for our daily meals. It was empty, desolate, eerie.  

My pace quickened, but then a noise caught my attention. Following it, I rounded a corner and stepped outside. The cool night breeze whipped around my silvery hair, cooling the sweat that dampened my brow.  

A prisoner. he was young, a year or two younger than me. His arms were wrapped in new bandages that had fresh blood spotting them near his elbow, but they were still firm in grip as they held a little boy; the child I’d orphaned, I realised. He turned, noticing me with shock, but then he resolved his features to take upon a look with fierce determination.  

It was my job to report his attempt at escaping. It was my duty to capture him, rip him apart from the child he held onto so protectively and throw them both back into their miserable cells. I could see the fear and hatred and disgust in his eyes as he regarded me. I’d had enough.  

Placing a finger to my lips, I gestured for them to stay quiet. The man looked perplexed for a brief moment before resuming his expression of spite now laced with suspicion. I inched closer, but he backed away, clutching the child to his chest. I sighed, taking out my spear before kneeling down and sliding it to him.  

His eyes glanced at the weapon at his feet then back at me. “For hunting,” I said in a low but audible voice, “and protection.”  

“I don’t need your pity.” he spat. I studied him, my eyes travelling from the blood clotting on his bottom lip to the scratches and bruises on his legs. “No, you do not.” I stood up, noticing how he flinched back. Without another word, I turned on my bare heels and walked back indoors.  

How’d he’d managed to break out not just himself, but the boy as well was a mystery, but it would be discovered soon. I didn’t turn to see if he’d taken my spear or which way he’d be going next, even though it was arguably my duty. It was supposed to be my routine, as easy as brushing my teeth.  

Routine. It was time I broke out of it. It was time I started a new one. A routine that would be hard and gruelling and painful, but it would stop the bleeding and finally let me heal.