Ablaze , ᶦᵛʸ

c.13

"Let me out!" she screamed, voice hoarse from straining her voice so much. She collapsed to the floor, hands pressed to the door and eyes closed in exhaustion. "Let me out!" she repeated. It was her mantra now. Emlyn curled her knees up and pushed them against her chest, resting her head against the door, shaking.

Let me out, Let me out, Let me out.

Those words were a never ending loop in her brain. They continued on forever, circling her mind with endless torment.

"You know yelling's not going to fix anything, right?" A girl said through the door.

Emlyn instantly jumped up and stared at the see through window in the middle of the door; she had figured out that only she could see what was happening outside as it was a one way glass. And still, it wasn't even glass because Emlyn had thought of that. She'd banged at the glass, tried smashing it, breaking it. It was a strong, resistant material, that was for sure. It could never have been that easy. Emlyn observed the person standing by the door. She looked about eighteen, not much younger than Emlyn. The girl wore a playful, teasing expression. Yet, it was all concealed the moment she frowned. "Who are you?" Emlyn demanded.

The girl pressed a button and her voice went through again. It reminded Emlyn of the mechanics used in prisons. How fitting. "I'm a relative of a faculty member. That's how I got access here," she explained. Pause. "My name's Cressida. I can only come in if you stand aside. And I have a taser. Should I have to use it, you will be in great pain. More pain than any ordinary taser would induce you into, thanks to our fantastic engineer."

Emlyn scoffed but backed away from the door nervously, considering the bluff. She planned on tackling the girl and escaping, but the entire plan was dumped into the trash the second Cressida came in. Her fingers were curled around a giant humming invention with wires coiling around its outside and electricity practically foaming at the mouth of the weapon.

"Hi, Emlyn!" Cressida said happily.

Emlyn sat down, one eye constantly on the taser. "So what brings you to my humble— prison cell?"

"You," Cressida said brightly. "I heard the faculty members talking and well, you sounded so interesting I simply could not resist stealing the pass key to the room from my bitch of a sister, Cleo."

"Totally get that. I'm a really interesting person. But like, what were they saying?" Emlyn inquired, crossing her legs.

Cressida's eyes twinkled, the flickering fluorescent flowers cast above the two reflecting in their glassy irises. "Well, it wouldn't be fun if I told you everything that's going to happen to you, now would it?"

"Go fuck yourself," Emlyn muttered, and then she remembered the taser and immediately shut up after that.

"I'd be careful how you talk to me," Cressida teased, her fingers strumming over the bulk of the weapon she held. "Anyways, I just wanted to see the magnificent weapon Bellum designed for us, but I'll be on my way now." She lifted the taser threateningly, backing away towards the door.

Emlyn was so stuck on what Cressida had said that she couldn't dare to even attempt to escape, what with this golden opportunity right in front of her face. She was trying to think if she could manage to tackle Cressida when her back turned to lock the reentry door, but she had already closed and locked them by the time Emlyn managed to collect her thoughts. "Goddammit!" she yelled, and started to vigorously pace the room.

"Anyways, I just wanted to see the magnificent weapon Bellum designed for us. . ."

Weapon? Designed?

Emlyn couldn't bear to carry the weight of the crushing fears that had loaded atop her. The mysteries that deigned to torture her, each question connected to the other in a marvelous web of lies. Red string she had tried to unravel, laying them over every conceivable answer she wished she had. And try as she might but this all felt excessively confusing to the young woman. The fire, her ex joining this cult, the cult and her kidnapper. It all seemed connected. At first, she had supposed it to be harmful coincidences, occurring one after the other. That her brother was all that was linked to them. However, now looking at this with fresh eyes, having Cressida unknowingly or very knowingly, in spite of the torment she knew it would bring Emlyn, given her a clue that was pasted in the middle of this convoluted train wreck.

Designed weapon, by Bellum.

Now, there was something tugging at the back of Emlyn's mind, but just reaching to it gave her immense echoes of another lifetime of pain. Traipsing through it, Emlyn focused on the ball of flames hidden beneath a veil in her mind. She laid down on the cot and closed her eyes. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

This whole place seemed ever so familiar to her senses. The smell, the one (assumably) faculty member that had not visited her but had hovered a hallway away, taking notes off a hidden camera.

And the non faculty member, Cressida. She wasn't a familiar face at all, but perhaps she helped the puzzle piece finally click into place. The memory, a part of an elaborate knot of them that was distinguished from her others.

"She's not of age yet," the engineer said, lowering her helmet.

"And how is that a detail that matters towards the goal? What has her age got to do with any of this?" Maelstrom observed, standing beside them.

"The girl's abilities cannot fully kick in until her brain develops more. Minimally, she must be eighteen. Fully, her brain will develop when she's twenty-two. Normally, our brains finish developing at twenty-five, but hers is a special case. With all the additives and modified cells in her body, her brain will grow faster," the former explained, putting on her light sensitive goggles and grabbing her clipboard.

"I see. That matter is easily solved, though. I do not see your worry. We simply raise her until she is old enough."

"That's the issue. We cannot provide for her what she needs for her brain's growth to be in order. We need to send her to an assigned family who will tend to her. See to her needs. Maelstrom, we stole her from when she was a child."

"We raised Black Sheep. And she's a perfectly sound operative now. At only thirteen. Could we not do the same for her?" The older faculty member scowled at the engineer, much confused by her statement.

"Yes, but her brain is much more advanced. She requires a true education to cater to her needs. Not what VILE can give her. That education would be so much more different. Also, it would be dangerous to keep her here with fellow thieves until she is old enough for when we can fully explain her abilities to her. It would be a high risk to do that. There's not enough data to show us what could happen then—"

"We could detain her. In here. Simply wait for her to turn eighteen."

"No, Maelstrom. She would grow to hate us. Abhor herself and the situation surrounding her. We must send her out to a designated family. One who already has a child in VILE. That way, it would be much easier to monitor."

"What are you guys talking about?" Emlyn yawned, awaking in her small pod like slumber chamber, where Bellum would study her sleep patterns and how her brain would interact during her unconscious state. "Family?"

"Yes. Family."

And Bellum pressed the button that washed her mind clean.