Manipulative Minds

Chapter One

I've never hated a chair so much in my life.

I could barely remember anything that happened before, my thoughts clouded with rage.

I was in a room; a room with white walls on all sides, except for the window in the front. Through it I could see an almost identical room; an empty chair on the other side.

Then there was a strange man, yes, a man in white lab coat. He had a syringe in his hand. I told him I didn't like needles.

He didn't listen.

The rest was a blur. I almost fell off of my chair when I fainted. I woke up in a blind rage. I hated everything and everyone.

I hated the stupid man in a lab coat for poking with a needle. I hated the secret agency that kidnapped me and put me in this room in the first place.

Most of all, I hated the chair that was in the right-hand corner on my side of the room.

I didn't know why, but I suddenly despised that chair. The way it glared at me with it's absent eyes; I didn't like it.

I tried to get out of my chair to go and strangle it, maybe accuse it of murdering my family, but my hands were tied behind my back.

So were my legs.

"Stupid chair..." I muttered to myself. "You stupid idiot-" There was a sudden cough behind me.

The man in the white lab coat was standing there with a clipboard. He pointed to the window in the front.

I whipped my head around to find a young man occupying the chair on the other side. He couldn't have been more that 20, with wispy brown hair that ended around his ears.

He had sad, drooping brown eyes, almost like a puppy. His lips were thinned and chapped, and he didn't look too pleased.

I sensed a deep sorrow in him, though all I felt was resentment towards him.

My breathing quickened. My eyes narrowed.

Uh oh.

It was happening again.

As anger swelled up inside my chest, spots began to dance in my eyes as my vision went dark.
***
My eyes fluttered to life.

I was in a graveyard, surround by gravestones of all shapes and sizes. It was night, but the fog obscured the brilliant light of the moon.

I glanced to my left, and there was the young man who was in the room with me earlier.

He looked even more depressed than he was before; his face was streaked with tears.

He was staring intently at the grave that stood before him. Then, without warning, he fell the his knees. I slowly walked over to where he kneeled.

I searched the cracked stone, looking to see who lay beneath it.

I found the name hidden behind a clump of ivy.

Matthew Zimmerman.

Suddenly, a hand shot out of the grave. It was a skeletal hand, only loosely covered with rotting flesh. It grasped Matthew's ankle, dragging it underneath the rocky soil.

I was only assuming his name, since this was his worst fear.

Worst fear.

That rang a bell.

A gear clicked inside my head, connecting all of the loose ends.

All my memories were flooding back; my condition, the government agencies, the tests, the rage serums, the sleepless nights, and the white lab coats.

In all of my memories, there was always a man with a white lab coat.

They wanted me. They wanted me for something. What that thing was, I wasn't sure.

But they wanted to use me for something dangerous; a secret weapon.

That I was sure of. Two years of eavesdropping on conversations, finding neglected letters on the ground near my cell; it was like I was playing detective again back when I was a kid.

I was so lost in though that it didn't notice Matthew slowly sinking into the ground by his grave.

I rushed over to help him; grasping at his outstretched hand.

As my fingertips touched his, and electric shock shot through my arm.

I recoiled from the pain, shaking out my hand.

Then I remembered that I couldn't interfere with the events that would occur. I was forced to watch it all play out; watching as the victim suffered.

A silent tear slid down my cheek as I watched his fingertips sink into the soil.

All of a sudden, a wave of pressure hit me, as if a grand piano had been dropped on top of me, pressing me into the ground.

I couldn't stand. I couldn't move. All I could do was wait for it to be over.

My heart pounded rapidly in my chest.

I shut my eyes as tight as I could as pain started to build up in my gut.

As soon as I opened my mouth to scream, everything went black.