Electric

Chapter 3: The Glass Box

My world is dark, words flit on the outside of my consciousness as if my head were engulfed in a bubble, darkness and heavy space muffling the clipped speech. I can't make out the words but it doesn't feel that important, only deep unfeeling sleep draws my hapless attention, stretching languidly out to me just beyond my reach.

Finally, on the edge of awake and asleep, I slip into a dreamy vision.

It starts with me standing on a rooftop alone, staring out at a huge red sunset. It's not our sun, which is much smaller and yellow. This is huge, taking up almost half of the sky it seemed. I don't see any vegetation on the ground at all, everything is dry and brown. I don't feel the same either, I'm taller and every inch of my body is packed with expertly controlled energy.

Without looking down I know I am not me. This is someone else's memory, on another world, in another time. An older world, one that seemed on the the edge of pure unhindered destruction.
This person whose last memory is burning under the harsh sun, the heat ripping the delicate skin.
Stubbornly they stay standing there, and I can feel their sorrow and loneliness pressing on my soul.

Every sensation is heightened and I wonder if this is a dream at all; the hot sun kissing my flesh and the dry air tightening my lungs make it feel so real.

As I stand there, my back proud and my body uneasy, I notice a few things that make my stomach quiver: The hair lying on my shoulder is so very similar to the hair I have now, though it is longer and with less white streaks, and I blink slowly, drawing my attention to the fact I only have one eye. The very last thing I notice is a picture in my hand, and unbidden I raise it to stare at the unfamiliar paper with a very familiar face smiling at me.

A sound, distant but frightening in it's clarity, lifts my eye to the sun just as it seems to crack in half, the sun exploding and my vision going dark once more.

I wake up in my tube, sticky sweat clinging to my body as I fight for each unsteady breath. Just a dream, nothing more. Relax.

After repeating that a few times in my head, I finally catch my breath and breathe normally to focus on the world around me. I try to pick up voices, telepathically or otherwise, but find the outside of the tube to be eerily silent.

That's weird, where is everyone?

Eventually I swallow whatever had been holding me back, I'm still not sure if it was fear or uncertainty that kept me inside the small tube, but either way I climb out.

Immediately I want to go back in, but I groan and sit on the ground anyway, staring at the glass wall in front of me.

They moved me to the Glass Box.

...

The Glass Box is a room where three of the four walls are thick reinforced glass embedded with thin metal bars that block biological energy, created specifically for putting a Unique One in time out. It has nothing but a sleeping tube, a sink and a toilet hidden by a curtain.

I hate it so much, and since they usually leave you in here for days with no way to tell time, it always messes with my head.

It's so much worse for me than most, however, because I need to release an electrical charge at least once a day to keep it from ripping out of my scars.

Of course, it's also too dangerous to let any energy out, because the walls will reflect the energy twice as strong right back at me. And since there is no way to do anything about it, my calves bleed every time I'm in here.

I sit on the ground staring at the fading paint on the outside of the glass for what feels like hours before a guard comes to the slot in the door with a tray.

"Here's your dinner." He says gruffly before walking away.

I grimace, glaring at the tray before grabbing it reluctantly. Bread and mystery meat with half cooked green beans. Rolling my eyes, I snort derisively. Yummy.

I grab the bread and find it's not so bad, no butter but nothing else either. Sometimes they let weevils or mold make their home on the bread before giving it to us in the Box, as if to drive home the punishment. I usually go hungry on those days.

Sighing, I nibble slowly on the bread and poke the green beans with the fork. I never eat the meat no matter how many times they give it to me, or tell me I have to finish it or I won't get any more food. Seriously, it could be anything.

When I'm done I place the tray with the mystery meat back in the slot and sit in the corner to stare at the wall.

...

I have no idea how long I sat there, it could have been minutes, hours, or even days and I wouldn't have any clue. At some point I can hear muffled yelling, and I turn my numb eyes to the glass wall in the direction I thought it was coming from.

"Smmnfh mmormf opem the duhh now! She dmmfh belong in there!"

I stand up and put my hands to the glass as I watch my handler Agent Riley screeching at the guard that fed me earlier.

"You had no right to put her in there without my permission! She fought for this damn facility and didn't escape when she had the chance twice! Release C5119 now!" The guard tightened his jaw, staying silent as if waiting for someone else to speak.

A minute later, after a series of frustrated grunts come from the older woman, her salt and pepper braid swinging over her shoulder with her piercing slate grey eyes boring into the silent guard, heavy footsteps and a deep chuckle draw her attention.

The voice was mockingly pleasant, and while it held soothing undertones it did nothing to calm her down. "Ah, Agent Riley. How pleasant to see you again."

She turns to face the newcomer, a tall and muscled young man wearing a business suit and plastic grin. His tag read Agent Dumont, a name I didn't recognize. Not that I cared much.

"Hello Peter. What is the meaning of this idiocy? You know what the Glass box does to my charge!"

His jaw tenses, but his icy eyes stay calm as he cracks a smile. "Well, she should have thought about that before breaking several facility guidelines."

Beyond frustrated, she turns to me and puts a hand on the glass over mine. "I'm going to fight for you Syd, hang in there."

His cold voice was extremely unwelcome in general, but the words he spoke next sent shivers down my spine. "I'm afraid there is nothing to fight for Narissa. She's being sent to the First facility for extreme training next week. She's leaving the box tomorrow to finish wrapping up her lessons here."

Immediately I felt my body go numb as I slide to the ground, distantly hearing my handler screaming at him.

I've heard rumors of the First facility, though most of them call it the Red building. Very few make it through the intense training there, and they say they will let the subjects kill each other in and out of training. I've always wanted to control my powers but the chances of survival there are so slim...

And I've always been taught to survive.