You blinked slowly, trying to get your eyes to adjust to the light quickly, when they ripped the bag off your head, having tied you to a chair, and you let them because they held a gun to your back almost the entire time since taking you outside the shelter.
The room was dimly lit, almost clichély so, with a single bulb hanging from the middle of the ceiling, and there was three people surrounding you. Two of them held guns while the smaller, younger looking one just stood by the door. They were dressed in a lot of brown with bandanas covering half their faces, so you thought maybe you'd make it out of here alive and then what sounded like a child's sob came from the other room and you looked towards that way, making them shift uncomfortably.
"The Messiah sent you, right?" One of the older ones with the gun asked and you raised your eyebrows with wide eyes, letting your mouth fall open, but not quite knowing what to say.
You've dealt with religious people in the past, they believed you to be an angel walking the earth or someone blessed with these gifts by their god, but you never corrected them because if their beliefs comforted them with a question that couldn't normally be answered, who were you to stand in the way of that?
"I didn't have to do three years of med school before dropping out to know that kid needs help." You told them instead and they gave each other looks you couldn't read.
They were also almost bothered by how calm you were, not panicking about being kidnapped or how your life was threatened merely by the proximity of the large artillery weapons they held.
But in all honesty, this wasn't your first rodeo.
You never asked, but you thought maybe people sometimes couldn't afford your fees when they went to these drastic measures to get you to heal someone for them or maybe they were just fearful of what you could do and wanted control over the situation. It scared the living hell out of you the first time, but by the fourth, you learned to avoid eye contact, remain calm, and keep them talking.
"Are you a doctor or a child of God?" The other one with the gun spat, growing impatient by the second, and you took a deep, jagged breath when the one by the door lowered his bandana, revealing his face.
"Um," You darted your eyes between them, "I can help that kid, but you need to loosen these ties," You pulled at the rope, hissing when it dug into your wrists, and they flinched a bit, guns at the ready, "I'm sorry, guys, but I need my hands to work."
"Why don't we just cut them off and dump the body instead if the hands are the source." The one by the door deadpanned, keeping his eyes set on you, and you swallowed thickly, never having heard that one before.
"Okay, okay, wait," You pleaded when the quiet one moved forward, thinking they might actually go through with it, so you rushed out, "My power isn't in my hands, it's just in me, but it flows through my hands so..." You huffed, "You really think cutting them off and just what? Slapping them on somebody will heal them?"
You wanted to call that idea really, really dumb and insane, but they were looking more and more like the wrong people to call out for shit like that.
"Look, you brought me all this way for a reason, risking jailtime and who knows what else," You continued when they stayed quiet, glancing at each other and silently trying to agree on something, "So, at least bring the kid in here and give me a chance to heal them, if it doesn't work..." You trailed off, already hating yourself for finishing it with, "You can put a bullet in my head."
You knew it wasn't really up to you whether they chose to shoot you or not but saying it out loud not only made it real but showed them you were confident in what you could do, and it seemed to convince them to give it a go, the one by the door leaving to get the kid.
"She's sick." One of them told you, but your eyes didn't leave the child the second she appeared in the door, and if they had, you probably would've picked up on the fact that the one was lying.
"What the fuck is this?" You spat, shaking your head, and trying to get out of your binds, "Get that thing away from me!"
They seemed to be amused by how you were suddenly freaking out, bringing the kid even closer, and you tried so hard to scoot your chair back, but it soon hit the wall.
The three of them were sort of wondering why you were acting like this, not thinking you'd recognize her in this state, but the little girl seemed unfazed, bouncing towards you in the creepiest way possible while her hands hit the floor as she went, almost like she was part monkey.
Then she reached you, putting her hands on your shoulders and kneeling on your lap, making you cringe in pain, while scrunching your face up in disgust, looking away.
And then she fucking sniffed you.
"Get her off! Get her the fuck off!" You yelled, wishing for that bullet at this point, "Please, please, please," You begged relentlessly as they gently pulled her back, "I'll do anything, just kill her!"
The girl suddenly stood up straight, tilting her head too much to the side, making it look like her neck had already snapped, and then she started giggling – fucking giggling at you, covering her mouth with her hands.
"She's so scared," She pointed at your face as frustrated tears streamed down your cheeks, your heart pounding in your chest, and you gritted your teeth when your eyes landed on hers, the orange and brown color swirling around her pupils, "She looks so silly."
"She's aging backwards," One explained, choosing to ignore your outburst and the little girl's observations, "Quickly, and we need it to stop."
"Ah, my tummy," She whimpered, clutching her middle as another wave of pain flew through her, and you watched as she fell to the floor on all fours before her face snapped up to you, "Fix me."
"What did you do?" You yelled at them, not caring that your voice was going raw, pulling on your restraints as if you had stopped since that thing appeared in the room, "What did you do!"
One of them, clearly leading this circus, waved the other two off and then it was just the three of you alone in the room a moment later. He came over with his gun hanging across his chest, leaning down to hold onto the sides of your chair, his face now inches from yours, and he chuckled darkly.
"Couldn't let one of the most powerful minds perish in the Hudson river now, could we?"
