kind of a fast moving story, just like thoughts are
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"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Her beta waves are increasing. Prepare another dose."
"But it has only been a couple days. I thought this stuff was supposed to keep her comatose for..."
"I know, but we have no choice. We must continue the analysis before she gains her strength back."
I cannot see. I feel only the cold metal covering my face, arms and hands, and I cannot sense my legs and feet. "Who's there?" No one is answering me.
"What are you doing to me? I demand you..." The sharp infiltration of more cold metal into my arm makes me stop for a moment. "Let me go!" My breathing gets heavy, and no matter what I do, I cannot slow it. I feel a pressure building in my head. What is going on? Where am I? Why? It is so hot.
"Is she asleep?"
"Shhhh. Do not speak."
The voices echo, fading.
* * *
"Damn. She is waking up again"
"It doesn't make any sense. You gave her the full dosage didn't you?"
"Shhh, Prepare double this time"
These were the same voices from before. "What are you doing to me? I demand an answer!" Why do they respond with silence? I can feel the tears disperse over my face. I can feel my stomach squeezing, and a burning rage inside of me. The sound of glass shaking, hitting others, right behind my head, makes me feel uneasy. He is breathing heavily... he gulps... he is unwrapping something. Crinkling plastic, the ripping of paper at my feet.
"Hmm?" the man at my feet expresses. The room unfolds its dark mystery in my mind. I feel their heartbeats. I smell their breath. I can feel the gentle heat of a light upon my stomach. I suppose it is above me about four feet. Air flows over my exposed skin from my right, there is a door; I can see it in my mind. My fingers can move a little under the restraints, and my neck has strength to turn my head. I can see a syringe in the hands of a short, skinny white man. His white attire shines brightly in my mind.
"Oh Shit!" the man at my feel exclaims.
"Get out of here!"
"Oh My God!" The fearful man is behind me looking at the syringe. I see the syringe shattering, and the sound of little bits of glass bouncing on the tile jingle in my ears. I made it happen. I can see the light of the room entering my eyes, and as it was in my mind, the mask seemed to melt into nothing. I felt the restraints on my arms and legs vanish as well. The light is blinding, but I still see the men in my mind. We are trapped in this room.
The whiteness of the room intensified the light, making my eyes contract. The light dims; I can see. I jammed the lock on the door with one thought, dimmed the light without hesitation and released myself from imprisoning restraints; what else could I do? The two men face me, backed against the door, looking at me in fear. Why? Do they not have my abilities? Do they not know more about me than myself? They must, for I do not know where I am, or more importantly who I am. Why? I want answers
I demanded, "Who are you? Where am I? What is going on?"
"You are in ..." The short white male began.
"Do not speak to it." The other, much darker skinned male interrupted.
"Tell me! I will kill you!" I kept my eye on the fair skinned one. "Tell me!" I need to know.
It doesn't appear that they are going to tell me what I wish to know, so I shall not waist any more of my time. I focused on the dark skinned man, who kept the other one from talking; he will die first. He does not need his arms; they are gone. He does not need his legs; they are gone. In death, he will no longer breath; he does not need his lungs. The decapitate body in front of me squirms at its waist as blood flows from its mouth, groin, and shoulders. Two of the frayed limbs lay upon the lap of the other man. Soon the body stops moving, and it is dragged across the floor, leaving a river of smeared blood on the white tile.
"Now, are you going to tell me what is going on?" I stared at the man. He is not responding quick enough and I am impatient. I am done waiting. His head thrusts forward, the loud cracking noise displeases me, and his body is hurled across the room to join his partner. I wave my hand at the door and it rips from the wall, bursting into the hallway with force. I need to leave, find some kind of familiarity.
The corridor extends many yards in both directions, until they both end. Twenty- eight lights are equally placed on the ceiling and white tile, approximately one square foot each, covers the floor. The walls were cement, grey and grainy. It is cold; sixty degrees. I can see doors, five others. In each, there are two men, and one specimen. They're women, I can see them in my head, all trapped, all drugged. One door opens; a man walks out reading a chart. I do not want him to see me; I don't want to be trapped again. He looks up from his work and sees me. He stops looks down at the door and begins to stumble backwards. He runs back into the room he came from. I follow him.
"Security! We have a breach on level three... Bring everything." I heard him speak on the other side of the wall. I thrust the door open with one thought.
"Don't kill me! Please!" The man dropped his phone and begged. His hair was brown, just as the two I had killed. The other man who remained towered over the woman on the table had blonde hair. Why were they just staring at me? I looked at the brown haired man and spoke, "I will not kill...."
I stop a vile of medicine from hitting me in my face. I crush it with my thoughts. I turn and glare at the blonde one, his head explodes splattering the red liquid across the room, five feet. I place my hand over the girl, her restraints vanish, and I eliminate the drugs in her system. Vibrant blue eyes expose themselves to the man by the phone and myself. I look to him; he has a gun. "NO!"
The man is dead. She killed him. I look at her; her eyes meet mine. We are connected. I can feel that she is just as afraid as I was, but I feel something else. My insides feel a burn. She is smiling; why is she smiling? My head drops down, my eyes look towards the floor, and my blood is flowing from me. The light turns to vast darkness.