Chapter 11: Resurfaced Past

"All class D citizens are scheduled to die a week after they are brought in." Bancroft looked D in the eyes and coldly said. "I think it has been made clear to you by now that neither the Foundation nor the Insurgency cares about your livelihood. Yes, the Insurgency gifted you with this villa, but that was only to keep you on their side. At the end of the day, you lowly class D citizens are nothing but livestock being prepared for consumption by the anomalies."

Bancroft stood from the leather couch and walked to the window at the other side of the room. "you must be wondering why the Foundation let you live beyond your initial week, and the answer to that lies equally in your power and Dr Hallows'. That man somehow persuaded the council to let you live but maybe that was for his research. Whether or not his intentions were humane or not doesn't matter anymore because, at the end of the day, he was the one who saved you from death."

"what am I supposed to do with this information now? How does any of this matter? I don't care if the Insurgency or the Foundation detest me. All I care about is living my life as a free man, and the Insurgency has allowed me to do that. I have no reason to listen to anything you say." D spoke up.

"indeed none of it matters right now. But it all will in the next few days. You see, Subject D-3491, the Insurgency has issued an order for your death. In the next 3 days, a man who goes by the name Conformer, will barge through that door and beat the living daylights out of you. And you'll be completely helpless against him. Unless you team up with me."

D was surprised at Bancroft's offer. Teaming up with a military officer was the last thing D had imagined he would do in his life. Throughout his years as a mass murderer, D had hated the law. It was obvious why he would despise those that hindered the activity that gave him joy. He had managed to kill about a dozen officers before being captured but he never felt any pleasure in killing them. Just relief.

Despite being a serial killer, D couldn't help but feel a slight sense of remorse every time he ended someone's life. But the side of him that enjoyed seeing others in pain would constantly overshadow this remorse with its disgusting sense of joy. As the years went by, D lost his ability to feel sad for his victims, and along with that he also slowly lost the thrill he had attained by the killings.

This lack of happiness was what sent D over the edge and make careless mistakes that resulted in him finally being caught.

D could clearly recall the events that occurred as the police barged into the house and tackled him onto the floor. D recalled the pain he felt as his head had hit the edge of the dining table. He also remembered, with grave detail, all the times he was beaten with bamboo sticks in his prison cell as the police tried to get a confession out of him.

D shivered at the thought of the stiff bamboo striking his rough skin.

He looked up at Bancroft who had been continuing his monologue throughout D's flashback.

"so in the end I will help you kill him and allow you to escape. Does this sound like a good deal to you?" Bancroft's question held no weight behind it because D had no idea what the commander had been saying for the past few minutes.

"sure. Sounds good to me." D replied.

Bancroft looked at D for a few seconds and realised he hadn't listened to anything he had said. He sighed as he walked over to the bearded man sitting on the couch looking into empty space.

Out of the blue, Bancroft shoved his fist into D's face, nearly knocking him unconscious.

"listen well maggot. The only reason I'm keeping you alive is so that we can defeat the Conformer. If you do not comply with what I said, I swear to god I will end your miserable life."

D's eyes glinted with fear. The memories of his beatings in the prison rushed into him as he sheltered his face from Bancroft.

"I'll do whatever you want alright. Just don't kill me."

Bancroft smiled. He knew how to train a soldier and he had just created one that was lethal enough for his plans to work out.

The next day came sooner than D expected. He awoke early in the morning and waited for Bancroft. To his surprise, Bancroft never showed up. Was it in fear of C? D thought to himself for a while until the doors of the villa burst open.

"isn't he being a bit too extravagant this morning?" D asked himself. Bancroft entered the room but something about him felt off. He was staggering, and he fell to the floor the instant he entered. D was shocked. Was this the same man who had tormented him for the past few weeks?

As Bancroft's body hit the floor D saw another figure entering. It was a frail-looking man about the same height as D. he wore a black hoodie, but the hood was down, revealing his monstrous appearance. The man had a scar that travelled across the length of his forehead and over to the back of his head. D could only begin to wonder how he had received such a scar.

The man looked at D with his bright blue eyes. D suddenly felt exposed to the man. He felt as if the man knew everything about him and could see right through him.

The hooded figure moved towards Bancroft and kneeled in front of him. He then turned his face to look at the stunned D who made no effort to move. He just stood there, frozen with fear.

The hooded man gripped Bancroft's head by the hair and lifted it. The man looked Bancroft in the eyes and then with no hesitation smashed his head into the ground. D finally moved, but these movements were also fear-induced. He took a step back as he saw cracks in the floor where Bancroft's head had been hit. He also saw the bright red blood that slowly began to consume the white beauty of the marble.

C lifted Bancroft's head once again and pushed it into the marble, this time even harder than before. He proceeded to drag Bancroft's head on the floor. The jagged ends of the cracked marble dug into Bancroft's skin and flesh as his face was used like a mop.

D stood frozen once again. He hated Bancroft too but had never had torturous feelings towards him. He had been through hell because of Bancroft, yet he knew that it was all for his betterment. He wasn't sure if Bancroft's intentions were for his self-gain or not, but it didn't matter to D even if they were, because Bancroft had helped him escape from the treacherous depths of the Foundation.

Feeling a surge of adrenaline in his body, D rushed at C and tackled him onto the ground. C hit his head on the marble and let out a painful grunt. He held onto D's head and pulled it onto the ground as well. D was unable to resist the strength and ended up hitting his head on the marble besides C.

Both the men instantly pushed each other away and made a distance between them. D was now besides Bancroft, who was unconscious and bleeding. Anger welled up inside D as he felt the faint, almost dead, breaths coming from Bancroft. He looked at C with enraged eyes and rushed towards him. This time instead of tackling him, D punched C as hard as he could. He swung his arm in an arc whose trajectory passed through C's blind spot, making It harder to react to. D finally felt his fist come into contact with skin, but it wasn't the skin of C's face. Instead, D's hand had been grabbed mid-air by C who had returned the punch.

D felt the fist collide with the cheekbone that Bancroft had injured the previous day and he was sent a few feet back by the monstrous blow. D felt his grip on his consciousness loosen as he staggered onto his feet and faced C.

"Are you the Conformer?" D asked. He knew the answer already but he had to stall for time somehow.

"I do not believe it is necessary for me to answer your question. While you may or may not know a lot about me, I know everything about you, Professor Harold Banks. Or I believe you go by D now. How crude of you to give up the title you once held dear. Your identity has been banished into the depths of your subconscious. You are nothing more than a husk of your former self." C looked at D, who was now staring at the floor with his eyes wide open. The past that he had suppressed had finally resurfaced. And what bad timing for it to have been resurrected.

"Professor I'd suggest you do not get involved in this matter. You're next anyways, so just wait a little before you can fight me. The day will soon come when I get to lay waste to you and ill cherish every single moment of it. I'll do to you what you have done to countless people. What you have done to me."

C smiled maniacally. He knew he had caused D's mind to go into chaos. He knew D would not be able to hold back once his memories resurfaced.

"Maybe use the next few days to remember all who you chose to forget. All the friends you once cherished. All the colleagues you once partied with. And especially all the people closest to you who once loved you and looked up to you. Then remember everything you did to these people. Remember all the embarrassment, pain, and misery that you made the people who held you dear go through.

"maybe remembering is the right thing to do. Maybe that is how you pay respect to those who you unfairly executed. And maybe then the chaos that circles inside you will finally calm down and reveal the truth that's hidden inside.

"Goodbye for now Professor. I'll be back for your life in 3 days. Until then try to find peace within yourself."

C walked over to the barely breathing Bancroft and moved his hand to his belt. He removed a gun from its holster and shot into Bancroft's chest thrice. A pool of blood now painted the once glorious white of the marble, destroying the innate beauty that it radiated.

The sound of the three deafening gunshots made D fall to the ground. C had destroyed the only man D slightly respected while simultaneously destroying the facade D had created to hide his past.

C casually walked out of the villa as if nothing had happened at all, leaving D behind on the ground as he contemplated his existence and recalled the past he had once pushed away