MTOHS - Chapter 4.1

A/N: This is the chapter where the novel starts to get dark. This chapter deals with brainwashing and torture. 

Chapter 4 - Hunter ~ Word Count: 1836

The barren hallway was almost completely still, the sound of my boots against the concrete the only things disturbing the silence. I passed countless evenly spaced doors, each exactly like the last: made of solid metal, locked from the outside, and filled with suffering. Just from feeling the energy behind each door, I could tell who was inside and how far along in assimilation they were. It brought a smile to my lips, knowing that in time each of these Husks would be full members of Splinter.

It won’t much longer until my own Husk will be making that transition, I thought to myself, gripping the blank mask in my hand a little tighter.

It had been two weeks since I acquired this person and started my work on preparing his entry into Splinter, a process which was far from voluntary. He had an intensity and strength to his thoughts that reminded me of another Husk I also inducted, who had risen to be a Captain named Raine. This did mean, unfortunately, that he was stubborn and clung to his last shreds of identity with the desperation of a dying man. It made my job very difficult.

No matter. I stopped when I reached his door, my hand curling against the cold metal door handle. My breathing stilled. It will end today.

Using my influence, I pulled some of the strings of reality and turned the usual appearance of my mask into a blank, looking the same as the one in my hand. Then, I pushed the door open to reveal a tiny, white cell with an unconscious man lying along the back wall. He stayed completely still as the door opened and I stepped inside, chest faintly heaving to signal he was still alive.

The door slammed shut with a crash. He didn’t stir. Then, I stared down at him and pushed into his mind. There was no resistance as I poured into him, took over him, and examined the wasteland that was once full of life and thought. I listened very closely for something, anything to signal that he might be conscious on some level as he laid there. His breath was rugged and tired as his withered body struggled on.

Just as I expected, I felt a flicker of something, be it irrational defiance or pure terror. I couldn’t tell the difference anymore, but that meant he still had self-preservation. He had an identity to protect. Oh, that just won’t do. His eyes flashed open, filled to the brim with fear as I forcefully pulled him back into consciousness.

His first and only thought was his name, which I didn’t entertain by reading. I kicked him in the gut and forced a string of nine digits in the place where that thought used to be. He let out a pitiful grunt, body too exhausted to react more, and tried to scramble to remember the thought I had replaced. He was much slower than he used to be, his brain reacting in entire seconds as his mind tried to continue fighting.

Using influence, I activated his pain receptors and reemphasized the number in the place where his name once resided. He let out a wail as he fought to sit up and clutched his arm close to him. The more he fought, the more pain he felt as I made his nerves feel like they were being burned alive, but never allowed it to dull or ebb away. It was like choking the final bits of life in his mind until it lost the ability to fight.

After several minutes of this endeavor, he finally fell limp, and the last bits of resistance faded away. The pain passed and all that was left inside was that number I had implanted. I hoped that this would be enough to move to the next phase.

I let the mask in my fingers fall to the ground with a loud clatter. There was no reaction as it settled just a few inches from his face, his eyes glazed over maybe not even seeing it. Then, from within his mind, I called his number. His brain lit up with the memory that number inspired, the only memory he had left.

Pick it up, I ordered, indicating what I wanted by stimulating the motor region of his brain. His limp fingers shook as he lifted his hand off the ground. He moved very slowly, but I was pleased to see no sign of thought or mental reaction to the command at all. It took some time, but eventually his trembling hand closed around mask, before immediately falling limp again.

Stand. This order took much more prompting for him to follow, as I repeated it several times before he started to move through the motion. Each time he did not respond, I would call upon the number and his muscles would jerk into action. As he slowed, I would repeat the process. It would not be long before the learned the consequences of ignoring orders. Soon, he stood before me, his head slumped down to his chest.

Look at me. His head rose steadily, eyes glassy and distant while he looked at my blank mask.

Put it on. This order seemed to give him some level of discomfort, as I anticipated the possibility of another resurgence of his will. Instead of simply resorting to his number again, I gave him a sense of serenity and calmness, urging him very gently to put the mask on. While I kept the tone firm to reiterate that I had clearly given an order, I hoped that the positive association with the mask and obedience would keep his mind complacent for further training.

After a silent deliberation, his hand moved towards his face before it finally disappeared behind the mask. As darkness consumed his vision, and he experienced the symphony of the universe swallow his senses, there was complete quiet in his mind. By sitting in complete silence and only being able to feel the universe, he would eventually be able to have influence of his own over it. This was how every member of Splinter achieved their incredible power.

I ordered him to sit down against the wall, and he once again slumped over, but the mask stayed held against his face. It would never again come off until he was mature enough to be able to take it off himself. A wicked smile tore across my face as I let out a vicious laugh. The hardest part was over, and all that was left was molding him into a perfect, obedient Grunt. After he gained influence, of course.

With that, I left the cell and locked it behind me. Another job well done. A light feeling of pride bubbled inside me, knowing that I was furthering the Great Leader’s goals by adding to his army. I could hear his voice now. By enslaving minds now, we would be freeing more later, he might say.

It was not long before I reached the end of the holding cells and walked into the base’s main hallway. At one end was the large set of doors that lead into where the Leader stayed, somewhere that only Admins were even allowed to approach without summons. On the opposite, down another long stretch of hallways as the common training areas and eventually the Grunt and Officer quarters.

I kept walking straight to where both the Captains and Admirals reside. The Captains’ quarters were split into two separate sections, each positioned across from one another. Instead of returning to my chamber, I decided to keep going forward and pay the Admirals a visit, since I wanted to talk to Grey about the upcoming raid. Typically, Captains wouldn’t dare enter the Admiral section of the base uninvited, but as I had been working with Grey for years, I was often welcomed to hang out with the three of them.

Grey and another Admiral, Blaine, were sitting at a table at the back of the room when I walked in, each of them staring at a chessboard with varying levels of intensity. Before I could speak, Grey looked over to me and gave me a smile. “Hunter! I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Her mask was set on the seat beside her, so she looked at me with soft hazel eyes as waves of brown hair settled on her shoulders. Not wanting to be disrespectful, I pulled off both my mask and the dark hood I wore underneath it. I blinked a few times to readjust to using my eyes as, well, actual eyes, and then returned the smile. Though I didn’t often notice it when wearing the mask, I was grateful to be able to hear my own thoughts more clearly without it.

“Is this the rematch?” I asked before taking a seat on the floor between them. Blaine didn’t look at me, instead examining his options on a board that didn’t seem to be in his favor. This made Grey laugh her light, carefree laugh.

“It’s the rematch of the rematch,” she said. “Blaine insisted we do one without our masks so he could watch me more carefully.” She shrugged her shoulders and feigned an innocent look, but the mischievous grin didn’t leave her lips. “So, how’s the Husk?”

“There was some good progress today,” I said, nodding along. “I might even be able to pick up a new one in the upcoming raid.”

“Well, that’s great news!” she said. There was a light pause as she picked up a piece immediately after Blaine made his decision and set it down seemingly at random. Then, she continued, “I was beginning to wonder if a normal had finally beaten you.”

Heat flushed to my cheeks as a wave of irritation hit me. “It wasn’t that long. We all have a few that take a bit longer than we anticipate.”

An easy smile danced on her face as she laughed again. “I’m just giving you a hard time. It’s no big deal. Like you said, it happens to the best of us.” Her radiant smile was infectious as I noticed my own lips curling up. I could never stay angry when she seemed so relaxed.

I laid back onto my hands and looked at the board again, which still had very little change. In the silence, I noticed that Blaine kept his thoughts close to himself and his mental barriers high, which I attributed to him not wanting Grey to use them to her advantage. I let out an audible yawn, which caused his eyes to flicker towards me before he replaced them on the table.

“Yeah, Blaine, are you going to do anything today?” she teased.

“She’s a poor influence on you,” he mumbled to me, and we both broke out laughing again. When Grey looked at me with joy in her eyes, my heart drummed in my chest as warmth spread through me. It was great seeing her happy.