Encephalon: Emergent

Chapter 10

That night, as thin curtains seeped moonlight into her room, Elena stirred restlessly under her sheets. She found herself dreaming semi-lucidly, her body back in Quinn's apartment, twitching and turning as he bore down over her, fighting to keep him at bay. She was repeatedly pinned, forced to relive the horror, silently screaming to wake from her slumber, his stench suffocating. The memory fragments reminded her of something from her youth, vague memories, the hint of an older man, but her body shook with all its might, much the same way it did while trapped in front of the long, latin wall until finally, with sweat-drenched sheets, she jolted awake, soaked and shivering, and found the door open, a faint gust of a chilling wind pervading the room.

"Long time, Elena." She spun round to see Quinn sitting on a chair in the corner. "Slumber well?"

She instinctively pulled up her covers, her heart racing, body locked in fright, "What are you doing here?"

"Was gonna ask you the same question," He said, making no move.

"Get out," She cried. "Get out!"

But he was not going anywhere. He took in her room, "Nice set up you've got here."

The door was left open; he followed her gaze as she considered running for the exit.

"It's no penthouse," She snapped, the initial fear being replaced by a more righteous anger, her heart racing.

"Sharp, Miss Sanchez."

She could taste his stale scent in the air around her and realized it had perforated into her dream. An impotent rage tore through her as she realized he must have leant over her when he entered.

"Didn't think study was your thing," She said, looking at him with pure loathing, the venomous thoughts of taking out her revenge in this very room growing by the second.

Quinn stared captivated at the sparkles of dust around him illuminated by the moonlight and accentuated by his enhanced vision. "Y'noticed how the little things seem clearer?" His eyes followed a trail of dust, his entire peripheral vision taking in the majestic dance in front of him. "Complete sensory overload."

"Dangerous thing, curiosity."

He studied her, "Was that a threat, Miss Sanchez?" It was, she realized. "S'a bitch, promised powers to fight the man only to be told, 'work with the man you want to fight'."

His knowing self-righteousness incensed her, "I've seen people die. What're you doing here? You can't be willing to bite the hand that feeds you."

"Small price to pay for the chance of a lifetime."

"And bring down Daddy's hidden pals? Who'll save you next time?"

He groaned, "Still on about that? Listen, darlin', I was proven innocent in a court of law."

"As if that law means anything now."

He laughed, "Spare me, honey. You wanted me, everyone knew."

"I--"

"You come to my apartment, drink my wine, dance with me--"

"I--!"

"Wasn't rape, darlin'. Just good ol' man-on-top."

Stunned. She stared absolutely stunned.

He watched from his seat, amused by her incredulity, but she could not get past it, the initial shock of such a response taking her completely by surprise.

Then it began to sting.

She tried to control, but the emotions rushed out with no amount of conscious effort keeping them at bay. Tears flooded her eyes and she rushed out the room.

Quinn smiled to himself as he eased back into his chair and popped a piece of gum into his mouth. Still the same old Elena, he thought. This wouldn't be so bad.