Prisoner Of War

Subject 16

oOo

He digs it deeper, hisses, squeezes his eyes shut. Open. Open your eyes.

Blood. His blood.

He laughs.

The messages are easy to write, he can see them even though they aren't really there yet. Not yet. Almost. He can see many things. Faces, buildings, lands, secrets; he sees it all. He just needs him see it, the other one, the one who will be dragged here and shoved into the animus and forced through all of it like a never-ending cycle because history repeats itself.

He will have to see.

Laughing, laughing, so much laughing.

He gasps in his breaths and sits back on the mattress, blinking up at the message he's left. They will wash it away, of course, and to them it will be gone. Oh, but they don't know, do they? Can't see like he does, like the other will. They can't possibly imagine that this stain is forever, that this is him, the only part of him he has any say over, the only part of him that wasn't lost through time and memories and faces and pasts...

His smile is like a gash over his face, contorting and splintering, shredding the last bit of humanity he has left and leaving it broken on the sheets, mixing with his blood and his sweat and his tears and his screams and his whimpers and his last breath-

"The only truth...is what you can see."

A/N: Because there isn't enough for 16, and he deserves it. And because Subject_12 told me I should post it. By the way, I demand you look her up, she's amazing.