These words are the mantra of my existence. I’m not sure if it’s TitusRogen inspiring my desire to go against what I am or my own DNA deviating. All I can think is how Titus will look when he meets his end. It trumps even my wish for freedom. In this moment, I want nothing more than to watch the life bleed from Titus’s body. And I want it at my own hands.
Titus. The Creator.
I stare at my palms. Strength aside, I wonder if I’m capable of taking a life. A human life; one with a soul. And I wonder if that isn’t easier than taking the life of an Imitation. At least humans have souls that live on. What do I have after this? Where will I go? Back into a syringe? Will Titus recycle me? Or will I be lost forever down a lab drain?
We don’t deserve that.
We don’t deserve him.
Deserving and receiving are so very different here. And I am beginning to understand, to beat someone in this world, I‘ll have to play in it.
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