EDEN (Completed) (EDEN Series Book 1)

Chapter 12

The sharp blade feels cold against my skin. My hand hesitates at the thought of the pain to come. I calm myself with deep breaths; this pain will be nothing like what I've already gone through, a mere pinch or a slight annoyance in comparison. My hand steadies as I feel the blade slowly slide across the stitches in my left arm. It hurts, but I can bare it, I have to. Blood seeps from the wound as I squeeze the cube to the surface. Luckily, it's only about the size of a dime. If an object this tiny can suppress our powers, I can't imagine what other devices they have can do. The sight of blood doesn't faze me at all anymore. A month ago, I probably would've passed out from this.

I grab the bandage in my teeth and unravel it from my right forearm. I grab the adjacent corner and pull it in half. Wrapping the new cut with one hand isn't the easiest, but I manage to at least cover it tightly. I feel strength returning to my body. A warm sense of power engulfs my entire being. Now, for my right arm. The blade glides through my stitched skin like butter. This one doesn't hurt as bad as the other. The cube comes out, and I wrap the wound back with the other half of the bandage. I cut a slit in the side of the pillow and stash the cubes and knife inside. I place the now bloody side of the pillow against the wall and clean my hands and arm with the puddle accumulated in the corner of my room.

I'm myself, once again. I raise my hands, and black chains emerge from the ground, bending to my every whim. I've always wondered where the things I conjure come from. Why are they always black and decrepit? They seem to be pulled out of a nowhere, a black void of nothingness. Maybe, they're items borrowed from some other world or dimension. Maybe, I'm just purely creating them with my mind. Either way, I feel whole again.

I step out into the vacant hall and begin toward the observation room. I stride with confidence knowing that no one can hurt me anymore. A grin involuntarily proceeds to shape itself with my lips. This new sense of self-esteem shrouds me in its compelling aura.

Sydney whips around the corner, awkwardly stumbling with each step. Her pace quickens as she makes eye contact with me. Something must be wrong, or perhaps she's running from something, or someone. I tense up at her abrasive approach. She grabs me by the arm and continues on her path, now with me along.

"Uh, is everything okay?" I ask.

"Yes, yes just... follow me."

"I told the others I would meet them in the observation room. They're trying to cheer up; I really need to be there," I reply.

"Nonsense!" She says. "You don't trust me. Good, you really shouldn't. But, trust me, just this one time."

I ease up my tense arm and let her guide me to wherever our destination is. She pulls me through a set of halls I've never seen before. We glide through one after the other as I struggle to match her pace. A guard turns from the far end of the hall and heads toward us. As he comes closer, Sydney waves, fervently.

"Hello... Roberts!" She exclaims, squinting at his name tag.

"Uh, hello, ma'am," he replies with a confused tone.

"How's the wife?!" She aggressively asks.

"Um, you know I don't have a wife."

"Of course, I know that! Just joking with ya!" Sydney claims.

"Y-you know my wife was murdered; that's not a really funny joke, ma'am."

The two share a brief awkward silence. I'm not even a part of the conversation, and I can feel the tension in the air. Is Sydney losing her mind, or maybe just drunk?

"Well, we really must be going!" She shouts, pulling my arm, frivolously bumbling about.

We come to a door with "storage" written on it. All this rushing for a few mops and brooms? She knocks in a rather suspicious sequence. The door cracks open slowly, and a sliver of an eye inspects the two of us. The door opens only wide enough for us to slip inside narrowly.

The storage closet is dimly lit, with cobwebs and dust accentuating the dirtiness of the room in every nook and cranny. The mops look as though they haven't been touched in years and the brooms are all missing more than half of their bristols. All of the other patients are in here, determination weighing heavy on their manner. I look at Sydney in awe. Why would they let her in? Is she in on all this as well? She slouches over, holding her stomach and groaning with pain. Her skin begins to crack and crumble to dust. I step back, shocked at this atrocious sight. My jaw hangs open, but words escape me. She quickly falls apart, limb by limb, turning into a sandy residue.

"Whoa, calm down," Decoy insists. "I'm called Decoy for a reason. That wasn't the real Sydney, you know, it was a clone I made. Cool, huh? But sorry, no autographs."

I'm still stunned at the gathering of dust before me. Mute points and makes a soundless, laughing gesture, mimicking my dumbfounded facial expression. Aroma gives her the motherly gaze of stone once again. Mute rolls her eyes and shrugs. This a lot to take in right now. Though, if my power is working again, I would have to assume all of theirs are, too.

Snap, leaning against an old rack filled with paint cans, stares at me nodding. His eyes seem to see the potential in me. The potential to help them escape, that is, if I choose to help once things begin to heat up. I will help them leave; once I kill everyone here. It's a pity that people who weren't involved with me in any way have to perish, but they aren't innocent. I don't get to see my family again, and I don't get to see my best friend again, so, why should they? They deserve what's coming to them.

"This is where we'll discuss the plan. We don't have much time, so listen carefully," Snap announces.

"Wait," I interject, "aren't they always watching? How has no one seen us all come in here together? Shouldn't we be ready for a fight?"

Honestly, I'm hoping for a fight. A chance to try out my new found strength. A chance to let loose and show this place, no, this world, that I am to be feared. Gadget steps forward, still looking directly at his handheld game. I'm not sure if I've ever seen him look away from that thing.

"I was fortunate enough to compromise the video feed of the facility. We are here unbeknownst to anyone outside of this room. Although, there is currently no functioning locking mechanism on the door. I would imagine we have approximately 20 minutes before someone happens to need a tool from here."

I never really understand what he's saying, but I understand the gist of it. I don't think a plan is necessary. We have abilities; they may have been able to get us all in here alone, but together, we have to be stronger than them.

"If this plan is some crap like sneaking out undetected, I want no part of it. They have to pay," I say.

"Don't be an idiot," Snap answers. "You're strong, but not that strong."

"Really?" I ask, summoning chains to slither across the entirety of the ceiling.

"Ha," he scoffs, "No one is here to fight you, but I won't have your blood on my hands if you decide to be a part of this. If you want to go all vigilante, by all means, do it. Just let us know where you want us to bury your corpse when we're out of here."

His argument is compelling, but I'm not persuaded in the slightest. They didn't have their whole lives stripped from them in the blink of an eye. My face feels hot, but I must retain my composure. I understand that ignorance is bliss, I can't blame them for being naive. Before I can manage to give a reply, the door handle rings as it jiggles in place. Everyone's eyes widen, but no one can move. The door swings open as I hear a recognizable voice begin to speak.

"Who does she think she is, making me get one of her crappy mops?" the voice opening the door says.

Vince enters the room, staring at his feet. We're frozen in our tracks as he looks up to find us, surprised. No one moves an inch as we all frantically attempt to process the situation. The one thing I know is, we have to act before he does.