Prophet

by Sin Blaché

“There. That. The arrogance that oozes from you, deciding what matters from someone else’s past just because you never pay in sanity or blood like the rest of us. And no one can see it, because you’re so boring and god-awful to be around. But now—would you like to know what I have now?” “You’re going to tell me.” “Yes. That’s true. I am going to tell you. I have my wits about me now. My eyes are open. I know what you are. You’re broken on the inside and that’s why I can’t tell with you. There’s nothing even remotely human in there. It’s just all the missing parts from every other soldier on the roster jumbled into the cage you call a body. Under your shitty, shitty suits.” He takes a deep breath, trembling with rage. “Say something,” he says. “No. No. On second thought, don’t say anything. Don’t talk to me. Don’t fucking look at me. Fucking trust. That’s it. That’s me taught.”