'Though they appear stable, the Spartan soldiers have been trained to hide emotions. They could easily disguise something like this. Mental degradation could have already begun amongst their ranks,...
A/N: This is my first trilogy set in the Haloverse, and it is pretty much all about the one character. Also, action/adventure and sci-fi are genres of this fic, but they're just the obvious ones. It will include horror and the supernatural. This is going take a looonnnnggggg time to write, so enjoy. Also, does anyone know Halsey's first name?
'Though they appear stable, the Spartan soldiers have been trained to hide emotions. They could easily disguise something like this. Mental degradation could have already begun amongst their ranks, and I fear what a mad Spartan could accomplish.' Excerpt from report on SPARTAN progress to Dr. Halsey, Classified under Section Three sub law alpha three
1756 Hours, Unknown Date, 2517 (Standard Earth Time), Location Classified under Section Three sub law alpha-three
There was no wind, not even a breeze to shift the foliage of the trees. Red-gold light filtered through the leaves, falling on the three figures, a man, a woman, and a six year old boy. Lieutenant Junior Grade Jacob Keyes fingered his collar, perspiration running down the back of his neck. He'd tell her, after this one. He couldn't be a party in this, no matter the importance of the program. He watched as she bent over to talk to the kid, with his torn clothes and jet black hair. The boy watched the other children at a distance, always on the edge of that small society. This kid had been the hardest one to locate, and Halsey wanted to tag him before he disappeared again. Jacob felt for the kid, his parents dying while he was so young. Well, he thought, at least if the kid is picked, he'll have a sort of family. Halsey was walking back towards him, reading something off her PDA. Jacob stepped into line behind her, but waited until they were back at the ship before telling her he knew what this was for. He told her that she could report him if she wanted, he didn't care. He just couldn't do this. Instead of rebuking him, she smiled and simply replied. "I don't think anybody could do this for long, Jacob. Thank you for your help." And that was it. When they returned to Reach, Dr Halsey gave him a transfer to the Magellan and a commison to full Lieutenant. He tried to forget about Halsey and the children, and went on with his life. And the child in the shade of the trees kept watching.
0400 hours, 14 May, 2518 (S.E.D), SPARTAN sleeping quarters, Planet Reach
"Get up boot!" yelled the drill sergeant, prodding Damien with the stunner. The kid yelped and fell of the other side of the bunk. He was on the top, so it hurt slightly. Damien moaned as he rose slowly. "MOVE CADET!" yelled the sergeant, brandishing his stunner. Damien pulled on his clothes, watching the other cadets as he did so. The instructors were walking up and down the bunks, prodding anyone who didn't get up fast enough. He pulled a sweatshirt over his head and fingered the number on his chest. 003. Every time he saw it, he remembered an ancient program his father had watched, on something called VHS. 'I am not a number, I am a free man!' Damien couldn't believe how weird his father had been. He still couldn't believe he was dead. Both of them, consumed by the flames that had destroyed their building. Damien shuddered inwardly as he remembered the screaming. At night, it was always the same nightmare. Fire everywhere, and screaming. So much screaming. Everyone had finished dressing (which had only taken thirty seconds) and were heading outside. Damien fell into step, and trooped out into the quad. They lined up, and waited for their daily exercises to begin. As he tried to shake the thoughts in his head, he could barely hear Mendez talking about the day's exercises. The Chiefs voice grew fainter as Damien fell into his nightmare.
Screaming. Someone was screaming, horrible, heart rending shrieks of agony. "MOM!" he yelled, trying to battle through the fire and smoke. "Damien, get out!" called his father. "I'll get her, don't worry!" Damien wouldn't give up. He couldn't. He jumped under a falling beam and raced for the stairs. "MOM!" he yelled, panic edging into his voice. More screaming. And laughing. Disgusting, evil laughing. Damien kicked down the remains of the door to his parent's home. Six men stood around his mother. She was dead, her blood pooling around her. Damien couldn't move. The men around his mother's body were using his mother's blood to paint a pentagram on the wall. "NO!" screamed Damien's father, catching up with his son. "BASTARDS!" yelled his father, leaping past the stunned boy into the room. He wasn't a large man, but two of his mother's murderers were down before they reacted. Damien was choking, the smoke clogging his throat and lungs. He saw his father go down, dragging two more men through the collapsed floor with him. He collapsed himself, falling to the hot floor as his legs gave way. "Mark him for the hunters, quickly!" yelled one of the men left in the room. The other moved to comply. Damien lost consciousness...and awoke in the training complex hospital. A nurse stood over him. He raised his hand to his head, to where the man had touched him. Nothing there. His jet black hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. The nurse called the doctor, and was soon surrounded with people making sure he was okay. Mendez came to visit him, but Damien said nothing of his dream. Or nightmare. Or memory. He didn't know, and he didn't want the others thinking he was insane.
1005 Hours, 26 March, 2525 (S.E.D), SPARTAN Project labs, Geo-Synchronous orbit above Reach
"Your report has been noted doctor. Now get out of my office." Replied Dr. Halsey coldly. Benjamin Golding spun on his heel and left, trying to keep some of his dignity intact. His upbringing and moral beliefs screamed at what he and the other doctors were doing to these children. He knew of several others on the team who thought the same way about this...this torture they were putting them through. Several had already died, and in Golding's opinion they were the lucky ones. Death would be their only release from a life time of slavery to the UNSC. Golding stopped dead, causing a nurse walking behind him to scowl in displeasure as she walked by. He didn't care, he had just thought of a way to free the children.
Golding walked into his tiny quarters on the station, and went immediately to a box he kept under his bed. He pulled it out and set it on the sheets before opening the lock and pulling out his father's service handgun. The M6A had been the standard UNSC pistol until 2501, when a new way was found to increase clip capacity. He hefted the weapon in his hands, feeling the weight. He slid out the clip. Only twelve rounds, but his father had left another one in the case with his gun. Murder, Golding had been taught, was one of the few sins that alone got you a one way pass to hell. Suicide and rape were the others. But this wasn't murder, this was release from torture. He slid the gun and clip into the pockets of his lab coat, and then headed back the way he had came.
He nodded to the guards standing outside the Spartans medical corridors, and walked through after they had scanned his I.D. and walked into the first room on his left. Cadet 003 lay in the bed, his eyes half closed as the drugs were pumped through his system. His eyes focused slightly as Golding entered the room. Benjamin walked to the chart at the end of his bed and keyed in a request for morphine levels. He drew the gun. "Cadet Damien 003." Damien's eyes widened at the site of the gun pointed at his forehead, but couldn't move due to the augmentation ops performed on his limbs. A mask covered his mouth. Heart-rate began to rise. "I release you." Golding pulled the trigger. Blood splattered across the pillow, and alarms sounded throughout the labs. Something smiled.