012Mature

The door creaked open and I looked up, a thousand different possibilities swarming through my mind.

It was Sher.

"You've been here for almost two days." she started, sighing, "And we've already established that you don't have the information we're looking for."

I found it hard to look away from her eyes. They were swirling with many different shades of grey, flitting about the small hut rapidly.

She was actually talking somewhat politely. This meant bad news.

"I'm sure you understand, we can't risk sending you back to your home. It's a matter of the sanctity of our organization."

"So you're going to take me out behind a barn and shoot me?" I asked, though it was more of a statement than a question.

"We'll give you options," she said with a practiced tone, "Whatever you feel most comfortable with."

"I want Maidie to kill me."

Sher looked a bit surprised, but shrugged.

"Mercy's our euthanization expert, but I'm sure it can be arranged."

"How much time do I have left?" 

She looked at the screen of the lens attached to her comm. piece, scrolling down by flicking her eyes.

"One and a half hours. If you have any other preferences, let someone know."

As soon as Sher left I sprung to my feet, pacing over the mat erratically.

I was going to be executed. Wonderful.

I was so young, and these damn terrorists were going to kill me.

As if it wasn't bad enough how much they were messing around with my head.

After a few minutes I left the hut, ambling through the little village with my eyes peeled. 

I found Maidie busy flirting (or trying to) with Overlord, but he looked impressively bored with her advances.

He saw me and strolled off, his combat boots leaving deep tracks in the ground.

"Sorry to hear about your sentence." Maidie said, her lens retracting as she turned to look at me.

"Could I have a smoke now?" I managed to ask, getting a laugh out of her.

She obliged me, looking at me pensively afterwards.

"You know, you could probably get out of the sentence by telling Sher you want to join the Verisat-"

"-Never." I interjected after a puff, my tone instantly elevated.

Devol was only the greatest thing to happen to the dying cigarette economy. It was highly addictive (as in one breath of the stuff got you hooked) and cheap to manufacture. 

Devol was patented by a few big-league companies and they exclusively survived the recession. 

The great thing was that Devol wasn't a depressant or a stimulant- it was an entirely new class of drug called a devolant (its namesake). 

Rather than giving you cancer or genetic corruption like the past few brands did Devol had solely one, very strong effect. 

Pleasure.

"Why were you trying to catch Overlord's attention?" I asked, "He turned off his emotions, you know."

Maidie laughed, lighting her own cigarette.

"His name's Uriel. I was only toying with him. We all know he's out of the game for good."

My curiousity was piqued.

"Why's that?"

She looked at me as if I was horribly out of the loop. Which I was. 

"He's too busy being depressed about Sher to look at another woman."

I couldn't comprehend why someone who could have had a successful job and a multitude of fair-skinned, flawless lovers would become a terrorist and pine for an uncouth, bronzed warrior.

"How can he do that if he has no emotions?" I asked suddenly, perplexed.

Maidie sighed, clearly annoyed with the amount of explaining she had to do.

"Uriel only did those crazy experiments after Sher left him. Some weird coping mechanism I guess. Oh, and before you ask-" she added, "-she left him to protect him. Being the leader of the Verisat, she knew if she was involved with him that he would be put at risk."

"How do you know all this?" 

"Gossip spreads like wildfire. Especially in a place where you might not live long enough to hear it."

"Makes sense." I said, even though it really didn't.

Maidie's lens came back out to cover her left eye, and she looked at it strangely.

"You want me to kill you?"

"Only if you can take it." I explained, hoping that she wouldn't be able to.

So I wanted someone to care enough that they wouldn't be able to kill me. It was a poor stalling method, but it was something. 

"Oh, I can. Don't worry about me," she said easily, "The real question is; bullet, impulse,  or toxin?"

The high from the Devol was wearing off. I was going to die. Soon. 

The End

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