the whip must have seen the spectacle. He lashed out at the woman, cracking his whip over her back.
She fell to the ground crying out in pain. “Run, Jerem! RUN!”
The man tried to get up but his knees gave out. I wanted to help but I was cemented where I stood, horrorstruck. The woman reached for the man to help him up. The skryer reached in his holster for his klave and fired it. The man was dead.
I left after that. I ran as fast I could back through the dome to my quarters. The dead man’s eyes kept looking at me. My heart burned with shame. I should have helped the man, but I was afraid of what would happen to me if I did. In that moment of selfishness I let a man die. It could or could not have been my fault, but it was easier to say it was than to claim nothing could be done.
I hardly slept that night. Nightmares haunted me and I woke up several times, screaming. It reached the point where I couldn’t sleep anymore. My hands gripped the sides of the sink as I gagged, trying to get the man’s face out of my head. Relief flooded through me when I heard the loud hum of hunters leaving their rooms in the morning.
It was my second day of mental training. Trent had told me I would be meeting him in the weaponry today. I had never been to the weaponry before. It was underneath the centicular, past the laundry division in the caverns underground. I took the lift down with a group of laundry workers and got off when the lift opened up to the weaponry.
It was much colder down here and wet; somewhere in the distance was the faint pit-pat of water and to my right up ahead was a large open space. A rumbling sound echoed off of the cavernous ceilings above.
Trent was waiting ahead in the large cavern. I crossed the uneven floor and greeted him as I came closer.
“Congratulations. It’s your last week. Like I said before, the third week is devoted to emotional and mental training. There are psychological issues that many hunters deal with, and as a result we train you in advance so you don’t run into these problems. They’re meant to strengthen your mind as you prepare to hunt. As you’ve already noticed, we’ve done most of our training in the other room. Now we are switching gears. We’ll start with Memoriam. After that we’ll lead into the simulation room and rotate between the two until your training is complete.”
“What’s Memoriam?”
“It was a program designed by the Trux twenty years ago, used against the rector, Catedo. It was designed to create new memories out of past recollections and present fears. The purpose was to confuse the patient between reality and dreams, therefore numbing them to the actual present.”
“How does that work exactly?”
“You enter a type of dream state, where the program then searches for memories. It latches memories onto present fears that you have and combines the two to create a new memory.”
“Do the Trux only use it on hunters or on other Pax, as well?”
Trent met my eyes and I knew then that I had crossed a line. “That’s not for me to say.”
“Have people lost their real memories amongst the fake ones during Memoriam?”
Trent’s eyes narrowed. “It’s been rumored that some have.”
I assumed he wasn’t going to say anything else so that meant I had lost my chance to ask him any further questions, though the answer of what happened to my memories felt close.
Trent led me through the cavern until we reached a hallway. He stopped next to a small door and opened it, leading me to the middle of the room where a chair sat with cords hanging around it. It was eerily similar to the room where I was branded. I couldn’t help but shiver as I touched the ‘H’ on my wrist that had finally healed. It disgusted me how easily I was marked up, like an alleyway on the outskirts of Stoclo.
“All right, sit down.”
My heart was pounding. I took a deep breath and stepped up into the chair, lying down on my back. The cold metal seemed to
She fell to the ground crying out in pain. “Run, Jerem! RUN!”
The man tried to get up but his knees gave out. I wanted to help but I was cemented where I stood, horrorstruck. The woman reached for the man to help him up. The skryer reached in his holster for his klave and fired it. The man was dead.
I left after that. I ran as fast I could back through the dome to my quarters. The dead man’s eyes kept looking at me. My heart burned with shame. I should have helped the man, but I was afraid of what would happen to me if I did. In that moment of selfishness I let a man die. It could or could not have been my fault, but it was easier to say it was than to claim nothing could be done.
I hardly slept that night. Nightmares haunted me and I woke up several times, screaming. It reached the point where I couldn’t sleep anymore. My hands gripped the sides of the sink as I gagged, trying to get the man’s face out of my head. Relief flooded through me when I heard the loud hum of hunters leaving their rooms in the morning.
It was my second day of mental training. Trent had told me I would be meeting him in the weaponry today. I had never been to the weaponry before. It was underneath the centicular, past the laundry division in the caverns underground. I took the lift down with a group of laundry workers and got off when the lift opened up to the weaponry.
It was much colder down here and wet; somewhere in the distance was the faint pit-pat of water and to my right up ahead was a large open space. A rumbling sound echoed off of the cavernous ceilings above.
Trent was waiting ahead in the large cavern. I crossed the uneven floor and greeted him as I came closer.
“Congratulations. It’s your last week. Like I said before, the third week is devoted to emotional and mental training. There are psychological issues that many hunters deal with, and as a result we train you in advance so you don’t run into these problems. They’re meant to strengthen your mind as you prepare to hunt. As you’ve already noticed, we’ve done most of our training in the other room. Now we are switching gears. We’ll start with Memoriam. After that we’ll lead into the simulation room and rotate between the two until your training is complete.”
“What’s Memoriam?”
“It was a program designed by the Trux twenty years ago, used against the rector, Catedo. It was designed to create new memories out of past recollections and present fears. The purpose was to confuse the patient between reality and dreams, therefore numbing them to the actual present.”
“How does that work exactly?”
“You enter a type of dream state, where the program then searches for memories. It latches memories onto present fears that you have and combines the two to create a new memory.”
“Do the Trux only use it on hunters or on other Pax, as well?”
Trent met my eyes and I knew then that I had crossed a line. “That’s not for me to say.”
“Have people lost their real memories amongst the fake ones during Memoriam?”
Trent’s eyes narrowed. “It’s been rumored that some have.”
I assumed he wasn’t going to say anything else so that meant I had lost my chance to ask him any further questions, though the answer of what happened to my memories felt close.
Trent led me through the cavern until we reached a hallway. He stopped next to a small door and opened it, leading me to the middle of the room where a chair sat with cords hanging around it. It was eerily similar to the room where I was branded. I couldn’t help but shiver as I touched the ‘H’ on my wrist that had finally healed. It disgusted me how easily I was marked up, like an alleyway on the outskirts of Stoclo.
“All right, sit down.”
My heart was pounding. I took a deep breath and stepped up into the chair, lying down on my back. The cold metal seemed to
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