The Eccentric

CHAPTER THREE

It's late, probably around midnight. I lay staring at the roof and listening to the drops of water that leak through the ceiling and hit the slowing expanding puddle next to my bed and think back to the life I left behind.

On a normal day my father would have finished work early, still wearing his silly white lab coat and glasses while my mother would come home late, still wearing her tight pencil suit and business attire. I would walk through the doors to our New York terrace after track training to the two of them laughing and dancing in the kitchen to loud eighties music, completely forgetting the fact they are there to make a meal.

The moment I would make my way into the room the music would cease, and their complete and utter attention would turn to me, their only child. My mother would fuss over my dusty shoes and sweaty uniform while my father would ask how my day went or offer me a plate of half cooked dinner. It starts to dawn on me how much I miss the simple things.

I begin to wonder if they know what has happened to me or what I have become. A single tear slides down my cheek, and I sniffle a sob when suddenly, a loud bang at the end of the prison room breaks the silence. I sit up in my bed, struggling to see who is coming through the darkness and wipe my tear stained cheeks. Whoever it is, they can't see me like this.

After a few seconds, three wardens stand outside my cell and start tapping codes in the panel to unlock the cell door. I cower away from the hands that grab at me, but I know there is no escape.

They take no chances this time, wrapping me in a series of chains and cuffs till the point of suffocation and push me out the door. As I am dragged out of my cell, I lock eyes with Tate who gives me a weak smile, but I look down, too proud for his sympathy.

They lock me in a room similar to the one I was first brought into although this time there is something more sinister going on. I sit strapped into a chair with numerous coloured cords wrapped around every limb and machines beeping around me. A quick look to my left informs me of a heart monitor with various numbers jumbled on the screen, and I can't help but squirm at the sight, not knowing what testing is to come.

I decide to focus on the steady beeping that represents my heart beat and try not to panic, I manage to do this until a voice fills the room. A voice that could only belong to one person.

"We meet again, Miss Frey," says the blond woman as she enters the room, notepad and pen in hand. This time she bares a name tag that reads; Dr Mann.

I glare at her as she makes her way across the room and begins to tighten the restraints which already constrict my breathing as she hums to the tune of a nameless song. I glare up at her as anger boils inside me and I feel the tug of my new powers at the back of my mind. The drugs must have worn off.

"You could try," says the woman as she pulls on another strap making it hard for me to breathe, "although I wouldn't recommend it. We have a line of soldiers standing outside that door waiting for you to make that very mistake." I fall back into the chair in defeat. No escape attempts this time.

"Why am I here?" I ask, holding back a groan as a result of the pain the restraints induce.

"Your powers need to be triggered, to figure out the extent of Tens abilities," she starts smiling freakishly, "usually a traumatic event or the examination serum would have activated them naturally as a result of increased adrenaline levels although we want to trigger them synthetically."

I stare at her in confusion, but she does not bother to explain further, instead, leaves me alone in the chair. I guess I'm about to find out. Minutes pass with no change until I hear the door open again. Two men in white coats walk in and start to record information from the machines on notepads vigorously.