The MMEP Part 3 Trust Thief

Clarabella Rome Spencer probably had not experienced as much pain as being roughly handcuffed, gagged, shot at by a dart, knocked out, dragged, then hog tied to a chair. All in the same hour. She sat on the mentioned chair, constructed of hard, cold wood that had started to make her shiver in her bonds. Unaware of her surroundings, she kicked and thrashed, but it didn't do much good except chafing her skin and making the intense throbbing all over her worse.

Both blindfold and gag obstructed most of her face, so she could smell nothing but the metallic scent of the gag. Her hair, judging from the throbbing at her scalp, as if it had been rubbed raw by a steel washing pad, had been used to pull her to wherever she was. The wound from the needle, which had been precisely aimed to hit the tender part of her skin, where the collarbone and neck joined, sent a dull, aching sensation throughout her body, preventing her from thinking clearly. It was quite obvious that she was bleeding in several places, as she could feel the soft, cool trickle of blood running down her shoulder, neck and of course, her collarbone. Having suffered torturous wounds nearly everywhere, Clara didn't feel much pain, as each wound demanded attention, drowning out the others, but another demanding louder to be acknowledged above the rest.

Clara and the other questers had been separated plenty of times, but they'd always had communication devices, trackers or something of the sort. She was sure that her kidnappers had definitely taken any weapons or devices from her. This time, Clara realized over the dull ache, she was truly alone. Her heart sank to her stomach like a cold, slimy fish pulled out from a frozen river. Kicking furiously, she let her anger out on the chair, which didn't do much. Having nothing to do, Clara tried to shuffle her feet out of the cords, but as expected, all it did was chafe her further. The pain burned up her lower leg as her skin peeled off. Any more rubbing, and the inner skin would peel as well.

Feeling the tears streaking her face under the blindfold, she forced herself into rational thoughts. Deciding the facts of the matter, she mentally listed;

1. I'm trapped

2. Somebody hates me

3. They're keeping me alive, probably for torture or bait

4. Bandit's whereabouts are still unknown

5. The others were expecting me to come back

The sinking, cold feeling returned, burning into Clara more intensely than ever. Fear worse than anything else she had ever felt chipped away at what was left of her resolve. Worsening, the pain screamed into her, demanding attention.

With a shaky breath, Clara steadied herself. It won't help to cry. She thought adamantly. Don't cry. Don't cry. I won't cry. Another shaky breath, followed by another, then one more. She closed her eyes then opened them back into the darkness of the rough cloth covering them. Then, to her surprise, and relief, she heard a door open, and the gag ripping off her face. Gasping for breath, she did her best to remove the metallic scent from her mouth. Shortly after, the blindfold followed suit off her.

Looking up, Clara saw the last person she expected to see. Convinced for a moment her vision was playing tricks on her, she blinked. The figure stayed the same. Horror filled her as the terrible realization flooded her mind. The worst she had expected was her strange assaliant, not this. But this was much, much, worse. "Bandit?" She whispered uncertainly, "What the heck is going on?"

Her old friend's sly smirk was the last thing Clara saw before she passed out again.

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When Clara's consciousness resurfaced, Bandit sat cross legged on a chair in front of hers. Her hands were folded across her lap, and her hair was in its usual, uniform brown braid down her back. "I'm not going to waste time explaining why I work for the HC. I'm going to tell you why you're here. Fair?" Bandit's speech was more crisp and emotionless than Clara remembered. Taken aback, she nodded.

"2040, one hundred and twenty six years ago. There was a massive war against humanity and these monsters. They look like rats but they have a vaguely human form. Sounds familiar?"

"Ratmen," Clara choked out.

"Yes. These monsters were created by the founders of MMEP. To be used against human life. Do you understand what I am implying?" Bandit asked.

"MMEP is... evil? I thought it was just that the HC didn't like what we did."

"Well, MMEP is evil, which is why the HC didn't like what they did. Anyway, so, years and years later, there was another war. Between the MMEP and the HC."

"I know about that."

"Yeah. You do. Do you know who the war was ordained by?"

"The leader of HC?" "Incorrect. Two laboratory engineers in MMEP. Two people you should know very well. Your parents."

Clara almost passed out again, "What?!"

"Yes. I expected you would be alarmed. They swore their daughter would lead the next war forward when the MMEP were forced to retreat once more. So I was sent in to spy on you. Watch your every move, hear your every word, and, if necessary take the mesures to remove you from the MMEP."

"But I wouldn't! I wouldn't do anything to endanger humanity!" Clara protested.

"You would. I've seen your bloodlust. Your rush of power holding a gun. Your violence. You are a threat to humanity. The MMEP has done horrible things. You will lead horrible things, if left to them."

"It doesn't mean the HC has completely clean hands."

"What we did was to save humanity!" Bandit lashed out, suddenly less composed, "We protected them! We made sacrifices to stop the monsters, not to make them!"

"The HC killed thousands!" Clara snapped, mustering all the patience she could.

"The MMEP killed millions!"

Neither girl spoke for a while, but after a few quiet moments, Bandit broke the silence, "I know you aren't a horrible person, Clara. But there is high risk you could be. You can choose to join us, or keep believing the MMEP is good. Think about it." She got up and slotted a key into the door. Before Clara knew it, Bandit was gone. Could she really be responsible for the extinction of humanity? Start a new war that could end the world? She couldn't possibly be capable of that, right? The pace of Clara's breathing quickened once more. Right? Right? Right?

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Over the next few weeks, Bandit told her a lot. How she had snuck a mic onto Baird, how the HC planned to get rid of the MMEP, more on the history of the MMEP and HC wars. Every day, Bandit asked if Clara would leave the MMEP. Every day, Clara stayed quiet. Eventually, yes, Bandit would probably lose her patience, but Clara never answered anyway. Bandit always left with the same words, "Consider it." But Clara couldn't. The MMEP was her life. It was all she had known. She couldn't leave it! Besides, there were her friends, still in those tunnels, probably assuming she was dead.

As more and more days passed, Clara refused food and water, tuned out when Bandit spoke. Bandit grew more and more frustrated by the day. One day, Bandit slammed the door open and smashed herself aggressively into the chair across from Clara with obvious fury. "I tell you everything. EVERYTHING. I kept you alive when the others wanted you dead. Yet you refuse to speak, refuse to take what I give you, and you ignore me. Even now your ignoring me!"

"You betrayed us! All of us! You were instrumental in the bombing that destroyed the human life you claim to wish to save! And yet you have the audacity to demand I listen to you!" Clara snapped.

"I DO wish to save human life, and you're making my job very, very hard," Bandit hissed, leaning forward, "Do you know what happens to people who make our jobs hard?"

At that moment, Clara knew that she had made a mistake.