𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 》TMR, Minho

045

They were brown, with cool porches, but it all seemed abandoned. Janson stopped me from taking in the details by taking my arm and moving me to one of the houses. The windows were either broken or black, and it was like no one had been there in years.

"This is it," Janson told me. "Remember, they're in the basement."

I nodded and took slow steps toward the front door. My heart beat faster than ever and my hands were clammy. I reached forward with one of them and knocked on the door. It echoed through the house, giving off a scary mood.

"Hello?" I shouted. My voice was more high-pitched than I expected it to be. There was no response, so I tried again. In the meanwhile, I started to shiver from either the cold weather or just nervousness. Maybe both, but the weather definitely gave me a headache.

"Hello?" I tried again, feeling my bow stinging in my back. They had put it under my shirt and tucked it in my pants. Later, Janson and the car had disappeared behind me and I was starting to think they left me for death, but then there was a noise in the house, after at least ten minutes.

The door cracked open. I stared at it with wide eyes, then yelped when someone grabbed my arm and slid me through the opening. The door slammed close again.

Dust surrounded me, making my eyes watery and my nose tickle. A dark figure stood in front of me. Once my eyes got used to the darker area, I noticed it was a blonde male. He was taller than Janson, with blonde hair.

"Kids, did you invite someone over?" He whisper-screamed in another direction. My breathing hitched... kids? Janson said it was one girl! "Who are you?"

His voice had an accent.. he was British. I had no idea how I knew the difference, but he was definitely not an American.

"I..." The words got stuck in my throat. I couldn't move, blink, and almost couldn't breathe. All I did was stare at the man. He didn't look like a criminal! He looked kind, and so young.

He stared back at me as my mouth just fell open. Words were begging to come out, but they couldn't. A lump in my throat blocked it.

Some noises from my right made me turn my head. A woman appeared, with blonde, almost red hair. That must've been the mother.

"Are you all right, sweetie?" She wondered. Her face was kind enough for me to realize I couldn't get it over my heart to kill these people.

And just then, the door got kicked open. Worry flashed across both their faces, and then the parents rushed away as fast as light, while I still stood there in shock.

The uniformed men ran after them. Guns were in their hands and not long after they ran down some stairs, gunshots went off. I closed my eyes, tears leaking from them. Someone took me in their arms roughly and almost threw me in the car.

All I caught of what was happening around me were a few words about a 'control subject' and 'siblings', but then I continued crying in the backseat.

~

Janson had to drag me down to the basement after all the things that happened. First, the incident with the blonde parents of course, and after that I had to go to three more houses, but never succeeded.

I cried loudly, feeling as if I was a failure, but I was also upset. I had heard so many gunshots that they rang in my ears. I had seen blood spat onto the walls, and kids being dragged into the car trunk, desperately screaming for their dead parents.

And I did nothing. All I did was stand there at a loss for words, simply not having the braveness to kill anyone.

Janson got angry, also a reason why he was dragging me, and put me down in the weird, wired chair. He attached the same wireless sensors Randall once put on me to my chest.

"Lenora." Janson shoved a chair in front of me and sat down on it so hard, the chair almost fell over. His hands stuck together and he looked me right in the eyes. "I thought we discussed how things would go."

A sob escaped my mouth, followed by more tears. My tiny body barely fit in the chair, and my legs hung inches above the floor. Janson looked so big in front of me and it scared me, as a six-year-old.

"We brought four kids in here, and you didn't help with one of them! We might as well just do it ourselves... but Doctor Paige said we can't." He lowered his softly, eyes twinkling now, instead of filling with fire and anger. "Because she believes in you." He continued. "And I do too. I must say it was quite brave to knock and come in the houses anyway, but you will have to know the consequences of not listening to us, kid. Because we really have to hurry up here, and you need to learn how to listen."

Janson revealed a device. It looked like a tablet, but the buttons on it were much more confusing. There were dozens of them, yet Janson knew exactly which ones to press.

"I know this won't be pleasant... far from that, but it's the only way to make you believe in us, and we believe in you." He looked up from the device through his eyelashes, grinning slightly.

I clenched my teeth together, but soon opened my mouth to talk, just to get interrupted by my own scream. It pitched through the air, sending waves of fright in my ears; my own scream scared me.

I screamed because of a flash of pain. A burning smell entered my nose as I felt my body shake from something indescribable.

It was worse than the time with Randall... this burned my skin, almost literally. It pinched my body, as if a million needles were stabbed in.

More tears I ever remembered give dropped down from my eyes. I yelled for Janson to stop, but he kept shouting I had to learn and know what would happen if I didn't obey.

My body shook uncontrollably, I was dripping from sweat and my voice soon got hoarse. It hurt, burned, pinched.. all of it.

"Please, stop!" I cried loudly. "I... I will listen!"

Janson rubbed his hands. "Will you obey what we tell you?"

"Yes!" I screamed in agony. "Please... just stop!"

He moved his hand to the tablet slowly, giving the shocks more time to hurt me. I took ragged breaths, my chest moving up and down fast.

Then finally, it was over. My head fell forward, my body limp. Janson removed the sensors and I just sat there, staring at the floor in fright and surprise.

"Get rest. The next weeks will be busy."