Anya covered her ears from the screams that seemed more and more frequent of late.
They kept her up into the night, not sure if she should be glad to be woken from nightmares or not. The wails sometimes just as bad.
She pulled her pillow over her head, though it didn't do much.
Anya didn't want to hear these anymore. It hurt her heart and dug into memories of when that was her. Before the scientists turned her into a telepath.
Anya didn't know what they were doing, but it was always different. They had countless experiments going on, forever searching for what worked. What was more effective.
None of the three espers got their abilities the same way for that reason.
She didn't know where they were, the director having sent them on missions so often, they weren't here, or on a long-standing job.
They were older than her, she knew that. The first having taken the longest out of the trio to develop their powers.
The second, slightly quicker. Then Anya, the youngest.
She held the pillow tighter, pulled the blankets in further. She was so tired. Her body ached, a soreness lingering in her muscles from the dose a couple weeks ago.
They held taut, in a reaction to the screaming, as if she could protect herself from them.
Then a lapse in the cries, a sudden quiet. An abrupt silence leaving her chilled. She could almost hear them still, hanging in the air. An echo that couldn't seem to die.
Anya hesitantly lifted the pillow, awaiting something more. Tense muscles anticipating worse things. There were always worse things.
She pulled it back into place when another rang through the halls.
This one, raw and wracked with pain, straining at their voice. It was guttural and piercing. Full and rasping. A yelling scream that tore every bit of sound from his throat. The kind that sent Anya clawing at her ears, praying for it to stop.
It echoed off the halls, through her door, filling every corner, haunting and dark, inducing anxiety.
It was all she heard for the next two minutes.
Then as if with a knife, was sharply cut off, that echo clinging to the walls.
Left eerily still.
There was no more.
He was probably dead.
Anya couldn't bring herself to move, her pillow staying where it was.
———————
Anya refused to cooperate as Newsie and Fairaway commenced the 'check-up'.
Every few weeks, especially after an injection, they liked to make sure everything was stable. Working. Not failing. That the shot they gave her was doing it's job. And not killing her at the same time.
Anya screamed and screamed, annoying them to no end, but it didn't change anything. Doctor Newsie took samples to analyze, Anya shouting obscenities through her tears and anger. They covered the pricks of blood with bandages, moving onto x-rays. Then brain activity.
"How are the receptor barriers working?" Fairaway asked Anya who stayed resolutely quiet. Her throat sore from screaming.
Fairaway turned from the readings to give her her a look. "Do I have to take them off and check?" She sighed.
"THEY'RE FINE!" She yelled at the doctor making her blink in surprise at the sudden outburst.
Anya hated when they took them off. Her head rang and clanked. Loud and confusing. Noises ambushing her left and right.
Fairaway rubbed at her temples, as she turned to her readings once more. Ready to be done. Anya was a handful.
She turned off the machine. Removed the patches.
"Fisher." Doctor Newsie called the agent in.
She removed the straps and scooped Anya up before she could jump at their heads and pull out their hair.
"Put Anya down!" She yelled angrily, a hatred building and building she never got to use on them. Fisher waited 'til they were outside the room before deeming it safe.
Anya huffed and puffed and would have blown the house down if she could.
She had so much anger and nowhere to direct it.
—————-
Loid couldn't count all the dead ends.
Useless trails, bad leads, wrong people, and wasted time on misleading information. He didn't know how many people he'd followed, spied, and eavesdropped on with nothing to show for it.
It was getting exhausting.
Many rich people had dubious hobbies, lives, or deals. It was hard to find which of them spent it on something like a lab. Labs like the one he was looking for, needed funding. Usually provided by the rich. The previous labs found, turned out to be orchestrated by people in government, politicians, hoping to use the research.
Loid assumed it was the same case here.
He was starting to think he was going about this all wrong. He might have to try something else if this next lead didn't pan out.
Loid looked over the papers again.
Vincent Chad.
A politician who had made a 'donation' to a charity. Or so his records say. Loid had searched through his phone calls and any other form of communication, using W.I.S.E.'s resources to do so.
Loid wasn't entirely sure what he was looking for, but he hoped to find it at this political event Vincent was attending.
Vincent Chad was meeting people sent by this mystery person who received the money. Hopefully Loid could learn something. He couldn't keep doing this without any results to show. He might need to resort to other tactics.
Loid changed into a blue suit, donning his disguise.
———
Jack Burningham walked through the heavy doors held open for him, his black shoes leaving an echo of his steps through the large hall. Drowned out by the collective voices of people and families making their rounds.
He immediately scanned the room for Vincent Chad who didn't appear to be here yet.
Loid recognized several people here he's looked into, many approaching him to talk. He had prepared for this, keeping up easily with the conversation, while also keeping a lookout for Vincent.
Loid didn't have to wait long before he entered with his family right behind him. He had darkly tanned skin and black hair that he passed onto his children. Narrow dark brown eyes, flicking around the room.
Searching.
They landed on someone Loid couldn't see, Vincent too far, too many people blocking his view.
Loid wished the politicians hadn't brought their families and campaign people who crowded the room.
He slowly, subtly made his way towards the man who gracefully bypassed people, towards his goal.
Everyone kept getting in Loid's way, trying to talk to Jack, his stolen identity. As best he could, Loid disentangled from unwanted political talk and niceties. The fat head of the man speaking to him, shielding Vincent as he disappeared from sight.
He wasn't making much progress at all.
Loid left abruptly, some excuse to greet someone who just walked through. Avoided people who were obviously trying to speak to him and nodded instead as he passed by.
Smiling and nodding left and right, always Vincent in line of sight.
He just needed to get a clear view.
He stayed a distance away, unsuspiciously as possible, moving side to side as needed.
Until he saw him clearly, speaking to a woman who stepped out of a corner behind a banner, Vincent's back hiding her face.
No wonder Loid hadn't noticed her.
But a little girl stood next to the lady, dark hair not matching her identity.
She had green eyes.
And horns.
'ANYA?!' Loid stumbled, nearly fell, forgetting to watch his feet.
Anya nearly jumped out of her skin, her eyes wild, head whipping back and forth.
Her gaze landed on him.
Everything else in Loid's head came to a screeching halt.
'No way. . .' Loid thought. Did she . . . . hear that?
Anya looked ready to cry, watching as he tried to navigate between these people.
What was she doing here? Was she okay? How did he get her out of here?
The woman next to her noticed Anya freaking out. Stepped away from Vincent.
Saw him. Glanced between Loid and Anya. Eyes narrowing.
This was not good.
Loid was going to lose her. He could feel it.
He made a rush forward, when he crashed into someone walking into his path. "Ah! So sorry!" Loid bowed his head quickly at the flummoxed man before turning back.
But they were gone.
—————-
'Papa is here.' Anya thought, spotting him stumble over his feet. A spark lighting a fire inside her. 'PAPA IS HERE!' Anya could've cried. She could go home. She would be safe. Anya could run to him right now. He'd take her home. She'd never see the lab again. No more experiments. No more pain. No more doctors.
Noah.
Everything would be good again. She could see Mama. She could see Becky. She could see Bond. She could go to school. She wouldn't grow up in that stupid, stinking lab and die there.
Noah.
No more nightmares. No more Agent Fisher always following her. No more straps. No more needles.
Noah
No more dark room. No more director.
Noah. . .
Anya stood frozen, unable to move, her mind racing at light speed.
She couldn't. She knew she couldn't. The director followed through on his threats.
Noah would pay for her choices. He'd die if she ran. She'd be sentencing him to death, just to be safe herself.
Her chest tightened, fighting against every instinct to run to him. Her tiny hands forming into fists.
She cried then, knowing she couldn't go home. A brief hope that the director took from her and crushed in his hands. Smirking in that way he did when he knew he won.
Anya's heart collapsed inside, the fire extinguished in the instant it was born. Watched Loid crash into someone in his rush to get to her.
The agent took the opportunity to grab her and before she knew what was happening, left her father behind.
—————
Loid lost her.
He'd lost her. She was right there!
He'd raced to where he just saw them a second ago. Searched the area. The entire building. He didn't know where they went.
They vanished so completely.
He could tear his hair out.
Never had he failed such an important mission. Failed any mission.
Failed Anya.
He stood on the street, his mask discarded. A slow walk back to the car.
It ate him and ate him and ate at him.
To be so close and fail!
'Calm down! You have more leads now. You won't fail next time. You can still fix this!' A hand ran through his hair, organizing his thoughts.
He knew exactly the man to talk to.
He had a call to make.
He picked up the pace.