The new clothes are surprisingly comfortable. The thick cloth is breathable, despite the fitted nature of the pants and shirt. I've also been supplied with a hooded cape which is supposedly fire, water, and bulletproof.
I watch myself in the mirror, lifting my fingers to the device behind my ear. I take a deep breath before tapping it twice, and the metal plates slide over my face. For the first time, I look at myself.
Ren's creature.
Nausea churns in me as I see the monster he's created. A faceless sheet of black metal is staring back at me, the smooth surface offering no features, no eyes, no mouth. Part of me wonders how I can see or breathe. The other part of me is horrified as I pull the hood over my head.
There's someone else standing in front of me.
"Monster." I say quietly, unsure if I'm talking about myself or Kylo Ren.
Both, probably.
I know the outfit is meant to hide who I am, to intimidate, and it works.
In my fingers, I reread the handwritten note I found on top of the clothes.
DO NOT LEAVE YOUR ROOM WITHOUT WEARING THESE CLOTHES AND YOUR MASK
- KYLO RENWith a scoff, I open my mask, crumpling up the paper before tossing it against the wall. I take off my cloak, throwing it on the bed before I flop onto it myself.
I let my mind wander, thinking of Imrie, and my dream a few nights ago. I haven't seen Kylo Ren since then, and part of me wonders if he really was in my dream, invading my privacy, or if I just imagined him.
My heart beats faster as I think of him, terror trembling inside of me.
He's a monster.
I close my eyes, picturing Imrie's face.
He doesn't look like an Emily. Ren had said, laughter in his eyes. Sometimes I see a glimpse of the man he might have been if he hadn't chosen to be the beast he is. He has a sense of humour, albeit twisted, and seems to care for his Knights.
I've heard stories of him. We all have. Even before I infiltrated the First Order as a spy, I knew of his horrific actions. I expected him to be worse. He's not good, but he's not as bad as the rumours told.
My mission wasn't to interact with him. I wasn't meant to survive the torture. I wasn't meant to be trained and indoctrinated into his regime.
But we're here, and maybe I can still be of use to the resistance.
Which doesn't even know I'm alive. Doesn't seem to care enough to make sure.
"I hope you're not sleeping." A voice says as the door slides open. I shoot up, reaching for a nonexistent blaster at my hip.
"You're not supposed to be here." I hiss, looking around. "Get out." I stand, moving to push Armitage from my room.
"Hunter, I won't let him hurt you."
"You can't stop it." I shake my head. "Leave me alone!"
"I'll talk to Ren about it." He promises.
"I'm sure." I manage to kick him out of my room. "I owe you, but I cannot let myself fall victim to abuse because of your indigence of his rules." I slam my hand against the door's button, closing it in his face.
Screw you, Ren. I think, hoping he hears me. Immediately, I feel a kernel of amusement fold inside my mind.
"What for this time?" He asks, hilarity in his words.
YOU ARE READING
THE HUNT
FanfictionSpy. Assassin. Rebel. Hunter Horne has one mission. Infiltrate the First Order base on Naboo as a low level stormtrooper and work undercover for five years. Her mission is more important than her life. That's what the Resistance told her. She wasn...