Barrier

Confusion

3.

His senses had deserted him, leaving behind only the ability to experience pain. And what pain it was. Unbearable agony invaded every crevice of Luis' body, red-hot needles piercing his skin, nerves ablaze in an inferno of torment. Was this death? No, surely death operated with more elegance, especially in Luis' case. Some awareness was returning to him, he could feel his mouth, dry and raw, his tongue like sandpaper. The pain suddenly dulled, reduced to what was still a fairly uncomfortable throbbing. It was, however, enough to provide some leeway to his sense of touch. Luis lay on a carpeted surface, its underlying roughness obvious. The floor did seem moderately flexible, so Luis deduced that it was made of some sort of metal, perhaps aluminium. He couldn't verify this, however, because sight still eluded him. The thought of blindness terrified him, but his qualms abated somewhat with the realisation that his head was cocooned in a sack of sorts. Relief flooded his body, but such a powerful experience was apparently beyond him at this vulnerable stage, for he once again lost consciousness.

Over the next few hours, Luis' mind swam in and out of the waking world. He had gleaned enough from occasional sharp turns and revvings of an engine to know he was in a vehicle, most likely a van with a spacious rear area, as he felt not the minor comfort of a seat during numerous involuntary rolls with the motions of the automobile. Brief snatches of conversation obtained from the unseen driver and front passenger alluded to their involvement in the secret service. Their blasé attitude and evident knowledge of what seemed elite-sounding information confirmed to Luis that both were high-ups in whichever organisation for whom they worked.

Upon the arrival of Luis' intitial bout of proper sentience, he heard one of the two workers nonchalantly mention him.

"Another freak for them. This one's kind of different, though. You heard what he did in the interrogation?"

"Yeah, blew apart half the room and injured an officer while he was at it. What's your point?" his companion questioned bluntly.

"Well, you know, most of 'em can be handled pretty easily. Maybe incapacitate a couple of guards before they're down; this one, though, seems like he could take everyone at once in a second," he pressed on defensively.

"Maybe, but it drains him. It took him two days to wake up, and that was only for a few minutes, and he was barely responsive."

"I guess..."

The conversation faded into silence. Luis decided to take a moment to process the information before reacting. It seemed that there were others like him, by the sounds of it very few. Secondly, they were all located at some sort of correctional facility, something of which Luis was doubtful they did of their own free will. Thirdly, Luis noted, admittedly with some satisfaction, he seemed to be the most powerful of them. However the after-effects of his power-usage were startling and quite frightening. He had been rendered comatose for two days after the interrogation room incident. A major issue, but hopefully one that could be rectified if he were able to improve his endurance through continued employment of his telekinesis. Finally, Luis contemplated the phraseology of the speakers. They had referred to him almost as an animal with apathy, as if he were just something they had to transport -which was true, of course - and not a human being with rights and needs. He was simply a job they had to do, but they had, at least, displayed minor interest in his ability, his capacity for destruction. That said, Luis recalled the word "freak". It was as if they thought him shameful, that his power was somehow wrong or immoral. This angered Luis, for his pet hate was to be considered worse than somebody without any explanation. If anything, this was even more unjust- he was better than them.

Gathering oxygen and strength, Luis took a deep breath and clenched his fist. Nothing happened. Luis' breathing became ragged, terror clutching at his throat. He tried again, something smaller this time. There was rope binding his hands together. On Luis' command, it slithered from his wrists independent of physical interference, reminiscent of a serpent, Luis was sure. The transient pain that took him was immediately replaced with a moment of repose, once more relief coursing through his veins. Luis removed the sack impeding his vision, and found his deductions correct. He was indeed in the carpeted back of a van, seperated by a thin partition from the driver and passenger. Light flooded in from the windscreen, front windows and sole glass pane at the very back of the van. His suspicions regarding the gender of each vehicle-occupant were also accurate: one male, one female. Neither had noticed the sudden re-emergence of their captive's irritatingly detached visage.

He was free, he could have easily escaped, but Luis' ego was damaged and he wanted his captors to suffer. He grit his teeth and once more attempted clenching his fist. The floor of the van lurched and bulged, eventually tearing apart. Unfortunately, Luis did not have the opportunity to admire his handiwork. His spine jarred excrutiatingly, every limb vibrating uncontrollably. Blood leaked from his nose profusely. The superficial damage only portrayed a fraction of the sheer torture destroying Luis' mind. Barbs of anguish flung themselves into every fissure they could find, deepening, worsening existing problems. The release of death seemed the greatest mercy in existence right now, but no matter how much he begged, his body remained stubbornly alive.

Enveloped as his senses were by pain, Luis did not notice the damaged van flip over, nor did he observe as the windows shattered, spraying glass inside. He did not hear the wail of a siren or the desperation of the paramedics, or the cry of the van driver's mother as she learned of the death of her only son.