| Fan Fiction |
by GreenHammock
Six smiled contently to herself, sitting cross-legged on the carpet, petting the book in her lap. It was so beautiful; she hardly wanted to write in it at all. Marring this precious beauty just felt so wrong to her, as she eyed it, gleaming like a gem in her hands. How could she have possibly written in it before…?
A real, brand new journal, just for her! She could hardly believe someone would get anything for her, but when she thought back, she remembered J – or, Hero, rather – bringing her all sorts of treats and knickknacks. Gifts. He taught her the word ‘present.’
Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all, she thought, bringing the journal up to take in a deep whiff of it’s scent. He had never raised a hand to her, and even just now protected her from that mean assistant – and bought her a beautiful journal. And anyone who knew the beauty of a moleskin journal could not be evil, by principle. Because so many great authors wrote in them – Steinbeck, for example – and, in holding one, she couldn’t help but feel as if she was a person again, a human, warm and feeling and loved.
Six froze, her eyes crinkling as she looked around the room. She had no idea who ‘Steinbeck’ was, but the name’s sudden presence, the acclaim she felt attached to it – she looked down at the journal once more, brushing invisible dust off of the cover. Hero hadn’t been in all day… Perhaps… perhaps she should go find him, to thank him again.
Without second thought, Six jumped to her feet and leapt across the room and out the door, pressing the journal to her chest as she darted down the hall, peeking into the rooms as she passed them. She pouted when she couldn’t find him, craning her eyes around the empty mansion to see if she could find anyone who could point her in his direction.
And then she saw him – just his head a first, but then his entire body, barely peeking out through the doorframe. Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she had to remind herself to keep it down. Ever since the journal, her old affections for J had been resurfacing. She didn’t know what to do with herself now, knowing of him what she did, and yet, trusting him as well.
“J”- she started, but stopped when she saw another man – and unfamiliar man. She carefully tip toed to wait outside the room, decided it best not to disturb them. She fiddled with the edges of the journal, swaying gently in spot.
“It’s easier for me to manipulate her if she trusts me”-
Six froze. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but she had heard it, and now, her ears, no matter how hard she tried to close them, wouldn’t shut. And as her ears widened, opening for the new information, so did her eyes.
“..fall in love with a fucking experiment, Ji. She’s a project… ..actually pathetic… present there – she’s eating out of my palm again… …crack her head in…. E-7…”
Six clutched the journal so tightly her knuckles faded into an exhausted white. She didn’t bother to cover her lips as they trembled, pressing them together tightly – her eyes bled over, pouring down her cheek. Her shoulders were trembling- Hero, he- he didn’t- he wouldn’t-
Her ears burned-
Pathetic.
She was a number-
Six.
She wasn’t human. She wasn’t human.
Experiment.
Evil.
Robot.
Hero.
Useless.
She was useless.
And so Six walked slowly back to her room, hands wiping desperately at her face, and she collapsed against the wall, surrounded by the books – ‘her’ books – that had comforted her so many times before.
And she cried, the brand new, deep red moleskin journal, forgotten on the outskirts of Hero’s office.
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28.09.09.