The Omega Archives

by Erik Melendez

  After school, Mom, Dad, and I drove to the STR headquarters, so I could resign. We arrived at the building, and we headed to Mathis’ office. My clearance was still valid, so security was not an issue for us. We entered the office with my parents in front of me.

  “Ah, you must be Alex’s parents. I’m John Mathis, director of the STR. What can I do for you?” Mathis said.

  “We need to talk about what Alex is doing here,” Dad said as he and Mom sat down while I stood behind them.

  “How so?” he asked.

  “We’re aware that you turned our son into a mercenary, and he will not be working here anymore,” Mom said.

  “Look, I understand you both are concerned about your son’s safety. But I can assure you that he’s in good hands. By the way, he’s not a mercenary, he’s a special operative,” Mathis said.

  “That’s not the point. The point is that we worked hard to help him adjust to society, and now all this sprung up. Not to mention he’s too young to have any kind of job. Besides, is it even legal for him to work here?” Dad said.

  “Yeah, well, if it were up to me, I would not have hired him. But the UN begged me to bring him in. They had to cut some corners because, although he’s under age, it was a special case. Not to mention the fact that he’s the only super soldier in the world, and he has the tactical knowledge of hundreds of generals combined. On his last mission, he got one hundred and nine confirmed kills. This kid is a tactical genius, and we need him,” Mathis said.

  “I don’t care what kind of genius he is; he should not be doing this kind of work when he is only fifteen years old. Bottom line is that he is not working here anymore,” Mom said.

  Mathis paused for a second. He stood up and faced me with his hands on his desk.

  “Alex. Do you wish to resign?” Mathis asked.

  “Yes,” I said softly.

  “I expect a letter of resignation due on my desk tomorrow then. It’s been a pleasure working with you,” Mathis said as he sat back down.

  All three of us left the STR headquarters and went home. During our drive home, I stared out the window with my eyebrows lowered, and we did not say a word to each other.

  The next day, I went to see my therapist.

  “So, Alex, what’s on your mind today?” she asked.

  “I’m having a rough time,” I said.

  “What is wrong?” she asked.

  “My parents found out about me working for the STR and made me quit. I broke up with my girlfriend, and I stopped hanging out with my friends,” I said.

  “I see. And how have you been feeling lately?” she asked.

  “Not good. I keep having flashbacks of all the fighting I have done. I keep thinking about the bathroom attack, the attack on the town, Quetta, Venezuela everything. I left the school’s academic team. I just feel so disconnected from life. I just don’t want to do anything but fight.”

  “Has this disconnectedness interfered with your school life?” she asked.

  “Yes. My grades have been slipping as a result. I got a D on a math test. I normally get straight A’s in math.”

  “It appears to me that the PTSD you’re suffering from is numbing you. You said that you felt disconnected, which is a common symptom. Have you been doing the exercises I showed you?”

  “Yes. They help temporarily. But the attacks still get to me.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No. Not really.”

  “You know, sometimes the only way to get over something is to let it all out.”

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  I worked up the courage to tell her what I have been going through since I joined the STR. I told her about Quetta, Venezuela, the attack on the town and school, and how it affected me. It kind of felt better to get it off my chest. But it also hurt to talk about those events. As I talked, I started to have a more difficult time getting the words out.

  “It seems like you were going through a lot. I think you leaving the STR will prove to be a good choice for you. You may not notice it, but living a life like that can be harmful. Odds are, your lives will eventually converge, and you could wind up causing more damage than you think. For example, during school, if someone is being mean to you, you could get confused and wind up killing said person,” she said.

  When she said that, I started to think about when I almost killed Derek. I started twitching and scratching my head. I quickly changed the subject.

  “Can we talk about something else?” I asked.

  She stopped writing on her pad and faced me.

  “Well, then, do you want to talk about school?”

  “Do you think I should talk to Mathis and see if he knows anything about this condition?” I asked.

  “It wouldn’t be a bad idea. Maybe he may have gone through what you did, and he might be able to help you,” she said.

  When I went back to school the next day, I went to talk to the school counselor after school. His office had a couch in front of his desk and had various sports memorabilia all over. I sat down and told him all about my problems with my grades and concentration in class.

  “So, Alex. Your grades are starting to drop, and you’re having a hard time focusing in class. Is this correct?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir,” I said.

  “I see. On a scale from one to ten, how would you rate you level of concentration?” he asked.

  “About a four,” I said.

  “Okay. When you start to lose focus, what do you think about?” he asked.

  “I think about some of the things I have done. They make me feel like I’m still there, and I can’t focus,” I said.

  “What have you done?” he asked.

  I felt as if my stomach was tied into a knot. I wasn’t sure if telling him would be a good idea. Not to mention he would think that I was crazy.

  “Just things that normal kids don’t do,” I said.

  “Well, if I had to guess, it sounds like you’re having some kind of PTSD attacks. I want you to read this,” he said as he handed me a book on PTSD.

  “Now, about your grades. What will you do?” he asked.

  “I will focus and bring them up by studying and turning in things on time,” I said.

  “Do you want to take easier classes?” he asked.

  “No. The classes I’m in now are fine,” I said.

  “Okay. I expect you to focus on your work and not to let these thoughts enter your head,” he said.

  “But how can I do that?” I asked.

  “One thing I suggest is when the thought enters your mind, immediately think of something else. It takes some practice, but in time, it gets better,” he said.

  I left his office with the book. Later that night, I read it. It said pretty much what everyone else already told me. It said that I need to keep away from those thoughts, find healthy ways of letting it go, breathing exercises, and other techniques to stay focused. It was actually pretty informative. That night, I practiced some of the techniques I learned, and it seemed to help me cope.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The next day, during math class, I tried out the techniques that the school counselor showed me. During the lecture, my mind started to drift off, and I thought about the Venezuela mission. I immediately stopped thinking and thought about something else. I pictured an island with a blue sky, cool clear water, and a cool breeze on my face. Not only did it relax me, but it helped me stay focused once I snapped out of it. When the teacher asked the next question, I raised my hand and got the correct answer.

  During lunch, I re-read the book the school counselor gave me just too make sure I had all coping techniques down.

  Max was on his way back to the table when Derek tripped him. After he paused for a moment, he got up and confronted Derek.

  “Why are you doing this?” he asked.

  “Because I can,” Derek replied as Max got up.

  Too timid to say anything, Max turned around and walked away while Derek and h
is friends laughed.

  “Yeah, walk away, pussy,” Derek said.

  Max stopped and turned around. He walked up to Derek and punched him, knocking him out. One of Derek’s other friends got up and tackled Max to the ground. Max was on the bottom with Derek’s friend punching him in the stomach several times. He then pulled Max up. Other students got up and gathered around to watch the fight.

  Two other kids that sat with Derek grabbed Max and started to punch Max repeatedly. The other students gathered around and watched. I got up and ran toward them.

  I started by roundhouse kicking the kid who was punching Max in the chin. I pulled him to the ground and stomped him on the face. I then kicked one of the kids holding Max in the stomach. Then I hit the other kid holding Max with a back fist, breaking Max free. He quickly joined Sarah and the others as the kids got up, while the last kid sitting at the table with Derek stood up. I found myself outnumbered four to one, nothing I haven’t been through before.

  The first kid came in; I did a side kick to his stomach. Another kid from behind came in, and I did a side kick to him also. The other two kids came in, and I did a split kick to them.

  One kid got up and came back with a punch. I blocked the attack, and then elbowed him in the face. Blood sprayed out of his mouth. I then pushed him down and kneed him in the stomach, followed by sweeping him onto the ground, and punching him in the face. The other kid got up, and charged at me. When he hit me, I blocked, punched with a right and left hook than an uppercut, and kicked him in the chest knocking him down. I only hit hard enough to get them down.

  The third kid got up and came in with a punch. I blocked and threw him over my shoulder. I then grabbed his head and kept punching his face until he gave up. Blood covered his face, and his face was slightly disfigured by bumps and bruises.

  The last kid got up. After seeing what I did to his other friends, he hesitated for a second. I slowly got up and walked toward him. His eyes were wide, his face turned red, and he was breathing pretty hard. For a second, I thought he was going to give up and run away. But then he took some breaths, balled up his fists, and came in. He came in with a punch, but I blocked with both my arms and back fisted him in the face. I didn’t hit hard, but it was still strong enough to push him back a little. As he got up, I then did a 540 spinning hook kick to his face, finishing him off.

  When the fight was over, the other students just stared for a while in complete silence, and I just walked away.

  Later, all six of us were sitting in the principal’s office, talking about what happened in the cafeteria. The principal paced backwards and forwards, talking loudly.

  “You know, this is a nice school, and I would like to keep it that way. But what happened in the cafeteria was a complete mess. You all get detention. If this happens again, you will be facing suspension,” the principal said.

  As we walked out, Derek walked up to me and Max.

  “Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Derek said.

  “It’s cool,” Max said.

  Derek then walked away with his head down.

  As I walked out, I saw other students looking at me and talking about me. They were acting the same way after I choked Derek almost to death with them bunching together, whispering to each other about me. As I walked buy, a kid approached me.

  “Hey,” he said.

  I stopped and turned to face him and the other kids that stood with him.

  “Yeah?” I replied.

  “Where did you learn how to fight like that?” he asked.

  I paused for a moment to think of an excuse.

  “I study a lot of martial arts,” I said.

  “Well, I watch a lot of MMA, and I have never seen anyone fight like that,” he said.

  “I practice a lot and exercise as well,” I said as I turned around and walked away.

  After school, I saw Sarah and Max outside talking. I decided to go and talk to them. Another group of kids saw me and kind of huddled together, whispering to themselves.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “I’m fine. My fist hurts a little though. Thanks for helping me back there,” Max replied.

  “Sure thing,” I said.

  “Are you okay?” Sarah asked.

  “I’m fine,” I replied.

  “How does it feel to knock Derek out for all those years of torture he did to you?” I asked.

  “I’m not going to lie; it felt pretty good,” Max replied as we all laughed. “How’s Melissa doing?” I asked.

  “Don’t worry about Melissa. She’s doing okay,” she replied.

  “I’m sorry that I stopped hanging out with you guys,” I said.

  “It’s fine,” Max said.

  “Can we still be friends?” I asked.

  “Sure, we can. Come over tonight, okay?” Sarah replied as she gave me a hug.

  Later that night, we met up at Sarah’s house. Mark, Max, Katie, and Melissa were there hanging out, mostly just sitting in the living room and talking. Melissa pulled me aside to talk for a bit.

  “Look, I have been thinking over what happened, and I get it. I’m sorry,” she said.

  “It’s no problem. I just hope you are okay,” I replied.

  “I’m fine. I just need some time before I can date again,” Melissa said.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “I just need to figure out what I want in a relationship. When I started to date Derek, I was just happy to be dating one of the most popular boys in school. I guess I just wanted people to like me, so I figured dating him would help that. But it wasn’t worth it, especially since he cheated on me. Thankfully, Mark and I have been friends for almost forever, so at least we still could be friends.”

  “Makes sense,” I replied.

  After we talked, we went to join the others to play truth or dare. It involved things like Katie telling us about how she once took a picture of a garbage can, claiming it to be surreal, and Mark daring Max to try and do a cart wheel, which ended with him crashing into the floor, face first. I went after Max.

  “So, Alex, truth or dare?” Mark asked.

  “Uh. Truth,” I said.

  “How does it feel to be back with us?” he asked.

  “Much better, mostly because sitting alone at lunch started to get kind of weird after a while,” I said and we all laughed.

  “Okay, then, Alex truth or dare?” Mark asked.

  “Truth,” I said.

  “Okay. Who do you have a crush on?” he asked.

  I immediately froze up. I paused for a moment and started thinking about my training days again.

  “Pass!” I replied.

  “Come on, Alex, tell us,” Mark replied as the others begged me to tell.

  I started to feel trapped. I was starting to get hot, and I could not stay focused. I had to get out of there.

  “Will you guys excuse me for a minute?” I said as I got up and stormed out of there.

  I sat outside for a bit trying to calm down. All I thought about was my trainers telling me how a good soldier does not let his or her feelings get in the way, and the voices would not stop. Max came outside to talk to me.

  “Are you okay, dude? They didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said as he sat down.

  “It’s okay. It’s just that my training is still screwing with my head.”

  “Did you want to get out of here? Maybe catch your breath,” he asked.

  “Sure,” I replied.

  We left and walked around for a little in the town square. Most of the shops were either closing or were already closed. We talked about video games, movies and the decathlon coming up. We also talked about my latest missions.

  “So, let me get this straight. Mikhail shot you with some kind of tranquilizer and got away?” Max said.

  “Precisely. I didn’t think that there were any tranquilizers in the world strong enough to knock me out. I guess I was wrong,” I said.

  “That sucks. I’m curious: What’s the difference between Type-1 and
Type-2 serum?” he asked.

  We sat down on one of the benches around the square.

  “Type-1 can enhance the cells. Type-2 can cause mutation in them. Type-1 created me.”

  “You know, it’s funny that a year ago, I would have never believed that this stuff existed. But now, it’s just a part of my life.”

  “I know, right? How are your classes going?” I asked.

  “Fine, I guess. I got another A on my Math test.”

  “That’s good. Why do you always want to get perfect grades?”

  Max got up and started walking around.

  “Well, I come from a family where we regularly have good grades. Both my parents were straight-A students all their lives, and I want to be like that. Sometimes it can be hard, too hard. I just want to be as good as them, you know? I mean, getting good grades can help me, right?”

  “True, I guess. I mean, you get good grades now, right?” I asked.

  “Not really. Sometimes when I get less than one hundred percent, I freak out. It’s like it’s the end of the world. But I should calm down a bit, you know? I mean, I get good grades, and I’m on the academic team. I can’t be doing all that bad, right?”

  “On the contrary, you seem to be doing fine. I mean, how do your parents feel?” I said.

  Max started to rub his neck and sat back down.

  “You know, sometimes, it seems like they don’t really care. They never tell me how proud of me they are or anything. I just wish I could get some credit, you know?” he said.

  After we talked for a little bit, we went back to the party. Everyone was still there sitting around.

  “Hey guys, everything okay?” Mark asked.

  “Yeah, just needed some air,” Max said.

  “Sorry about that, Alex. We didn’t mean to make you run off like that,” Mark said.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I replied.

  We sat and talked for a bit until everyone went home.

  After I reunited with my friends, I came home. It felt nice being back together.