Rebel

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Mercy.

Mercy was the only thought that my brain could form.

I needed mercy. I'd take it in any form. My friends coming to get me, the visions ending, a little pain medicine. Heck, death would be mercy at this point.

The sound of a gunshot echoed through my head for the millionth time. "My baby. Live. Do it for me, okay?" Cold metal being pressed against my head. Guilt. The bang of a gun again. My fault, my fault, my fault.

Over and over. There was no end. I had to kill her. Any rebellious thoughts and the gun will fire on its own then turn towards me. My powers weren't working. I was useless. Death would be mercy--

Then just as sudden as the visions started, they ended. I gasped for air as my thoughts cleared. I was lying on my side on the ground, my face soaked in sweat or tears or both. My left arm was throbbing painfully and I still couldn't move it. I was blanketed in pitch darkness. A rumbling sound was filling the room and it came with a sense of deja-vu, though my thoughts weren't fast enough to place it before a blinding light shot across the walls. I squinted into the light as a headache quickly formed behind my eyes.

A human-shaped shadow fell across me and it chuckled, "Well, you're doing better than the others usually do. No one's sanity has lasted this long before. I'm impressed."

I glared at the figure, though it was still too bright to see anything. I almost wanted to say something snarky, but I decided against it, mostly because I knew my voice would be hoarse.

"Not talking? Fine. Don't. But talking or not, I got a surprise for you!"

I lifted my eyes to the now sharpening shadow of Morsie, dread starting to creep its way into my emotions. Anything Cathleen Morsie is excited about means trouble.

"No, no, don't worry." She said, walking closer and crouching down so we were almost level, "You'll like this one. Or at least, the beginning of this one. I'll give you a bit of backstory." She shifted her position so she was facing the wall and spoke in a higher pitched childish voice. It was quite disturbing to be honest, "So, you know Jace has been practicing his new ability for like, a month now? Yeah, well he finally perfected this new trick, and I figured what's a better test subject than my new prisoner?"

She grinned and stood back up, switching back to his normal voice, "I hope you take a while to learn your lesson. This is mighty fun."

I scowled at her back as she turned and marched towards the exit. She was right, I would enjoy this. I had a thing or two to say to that traitor-face Jace.

Just when I thought it, the sound of footsteps different than Morsie's reached my ears. And then Jace walked into the room, wearing what looked like a million dollar jacket and gold plated shoes. He was smirking and it was then I realized how weak I must look, curled up on the ground, covered in sweat and tears.

"Lookin' good, Sage." He sneered, then he laughed, "Nah, I'm just kidding. You look absolutely awful. I assume that you've been enjoying yourself here?"

I glowered up at him as I came to the conclusion that I wouldn't let him and Morsie win. I will always stand tall no matter what. With that thought running through my mind, I placed my right hand on the ground and with difficulty I pushed myself up to a sitting position. Jace raised his eyebrows but his sneer didn't leave.

"Please." I panted, forcing my voice to stay at least a little strong, "Living in foster care was ten times worse than this."

"Oh yeah." Jace said, "I forgot you were in foster care before Dr. Morsie generously rescued you. But I bet you could never forget that, given you're reliving the reason over and over in here. That's it isn't it? Your greatest fear?" he laughed, though it came out awkward and forced.

"At least it's somewhat dignified." I said, leaning against the wall to keep myself from collapsing and crossing my legs, "What's your worst fear? Breaking the unfair rules of your precious Morsie?"

Jace's sneer morphed into a scowl and he marched forward. Before I could question what he was doing, he reeled his hand back and backhanded me right across my already bruised jaw. An iron taste filled my mouth and my already sloppy vision flashed.

"Talk about Dr. Morsie like that again and I'll do much worse than slap you."

I sneered and thought about saying something like 'Well lucky you, seeing your ugly face makes pain feel like a pat on the back. but I decided my body probably couldn't take any more damage.