Stolen Baton

"…ey…"

Whether it's been years or only a night, light returns to my cell. My bloodshot eyes are already wide open. The faceless gray man is nowhere to be found. He must have left sometime during the night. It's just me in this cold damp place. Sweat covers my body, cooled to the point it's like I bathed in ice water. I didn't even realize I've been shivering until now. Dried blood cakes my body along with the sweat. My scalp itches. A pool of saliva drips from my mouth. I think I hear someone calling to me, but everything is muffled. All I can hear are the groans coming from my own mouth.

"Hey!"

There's a crashing sound of metal against metal, the vibrations rippling through me and aggravating my headache.

My pupils move an inch to look towards the hallway. There's a delivery man with a baton standing there, holding a tray with a tiny portion of stale bread and a cup of water. He slides them roughly through a slot in the bars and they spill on the ground. It's okay. I'm not even hungry. In fact, my head is light and I've grown used to pain. There's barely anything to feel anymore.

I am tempted to ask about the man in here with me last night, but I already know this delivery man—no, I guess he's officially a guard—will just lie and say there was no one here. But I know. I saw him. He was here with me, opening his mouth and growing closer to me until I could hear my own thoughts become his whispers.

The men in masks do nothing but lie. Voices, bodies, and faces alike. None of it is real. To ask him a question, I will need to remove his face.

My body obeys me more this morning. If it even is morning, anyway. I can raise myself off of the floor with my shaky arms supporting me. There's even a chance I could stand up once I decide to try.

There's a click of keys, and the bars clunk open. The masked guard stands on the other side. "Get up," he says. "You're being transferred to headquarters for your trial. Eat quickly and come with me. Don't think about resisting."

Trial? As if they'd give me a fair chance. If I go with him, I'll never see outside again. I'll never even get to have hope of having fresh meat again one day. Aluminum animals I never got to make drop from my heart like fallen stars.

It's him. It's this man's fault. The man with someone else's face.

It's right there.

I feel my eyes melt backwards into their sockets. They've never been so wide.

The baton is right there.

Short brown hair always dusted with soot flashes in my mind. I'll never see her again. She'll never tease me again. My teeth feel like they'll crack with how hard I'm grinding them.

First I climb to my knees, feeling them wobble. The guard watches with impatience.

My shadow trembles, breathing in and out in thick wheezes. I get to my feet.

"I said eat first," the guard says. I can imagine him scowling at me behind the mask. Until today, I never thought about the face underneath my own looking at me.

Silence continues to reign in this hellhole of a jail. The only murmurs are my own. There's no one else here. No other prisoners. No other guards. It's like this place was made for me.

"Hey!" calls the guard. "I said—"

I don't let him finish. I dive forward and wrap both my hands around the baton, trying to undo the clasp.

He looks down and hits me. Thwack! Thwack! His heavy gloved fists pound on my head. Every time he does, pain explodes across my skull, through both old injuries and new. Blood pours from my mouth as I accidentally bite my tongue.

But I don't care. Pain means nothing to me anymore. He could rip off my legs and I still wouldn't let go of his baton. I won't let him. I won't let them all do this to me anymore!

My fingers writhe, moving in every possible shape and direction to try and undo the clasp.

Thwack thwack thwack!

As he hits me, he twists his body around and and tries to grab my hands with his to tear them off. But I wont let him. I shrink in on myself and cover my hands with my body. Only a matter of time, now. I just need to undo the clasp.

Thwack thwack thwack!

My vision swims as my head takes repeated beatings. In a short while I'll pass out again. But even then, I refuse to let go.

Finally the clasp comes undone, and the baton slips free into my hand.

Aha…! Ahahahaha!

I'm unsteady and I can barely breathe without the strong urge to cough bloody saliva. There's only one chance to do this before he tackles me and takes his weapon back. His armor is thick and protects him almost everywhere. Scanning him up and down, I find a key weak spot. The fabric around his neck where his helmet connects to the rest of his armor is thin. There. If I can land it right there, I will be free.

He spreads his arms in preparation to charge me, then kicks off the ground.

In that split moment I flip the switch on the baton, and it buzzes to life. Even with the handle safe from electricity, I can feel it pulsate. It's set to high.

He's so close. I raise the baton as he approaches, my eyes wild and yet more focused than I've ever been before. Like this, I could even take on the bear should it come back.

His shadow looms over mine, his hands an inch away from my shoulders. The baton aims for his neck, and—

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt!

"Argh!" The guard convulses, falling backwards and flailing around. His limbs are wild like flailing sheets in the wind. He looks funny like this. Maybe this is how Elyna sees the world. I should have done this a long time ago.

The redheaded man in his mirror is smiling wildly. I wonder who that is.

Every so often he will reach up to me and try to grab my wrist, but I just push the baton in harder. I push and push until a terrible smell wafts over me and I gag. But I shove down the urge to vomit and just keep pressing the baton.

"Oh." It's all I can mutter as he drops to the ground. I kick him. He doesn't move.

I… I did it… My hand goes numb and I drop the baton. I was… supposed to ask him something.

What was I… going to ask him…?

I look down at the dark-haired man in the mirror. The novelty of his unknown face is familiar. I want to bring him with me.

Kneeling down over the thing in front of me, I grab the helmet and I pull.

It comes off. The face looking at me is detached and in my hands. His face is gaunt and stained with dirt and blood. I look down. There's some other face there I don't recognize. It doesn't matter, though.

After everything, I finally have one. Both our eyes get teary. I press my face right up against his until all I can see are those same black pupils. Those haven't changed.

Hahaha. I laugh to myself and smack the mirrored mask against my head.

Then I look down at that thing below me again. I need to leave. There's still no noise. There's not even any security cameras. I'd almost say this place was abandoned. Peaking around the hall just in case, I pull that thing further inside and began to strip it. Ignoring my dizziness, I shove it to the back corner of the cell and put on its armor. Someone will surely be coming at some point soon.

The mask is far more comfortable than I ever imagined. It slides over my head easily, and suddenly I can see the world through the other side of the mirror. I'll never forget my face again. I have one now.

I have my own face, and no one can take it from me.