Soul Walker: #ONC Finalist

Mission 11: Darkness

Anger rising--Jerry Cantrell

Derrick blearily opened his eyes and caught sight of a doctor that stood at the foot of his bed. His face was eerily familiar, but its source was buried deep in his morphine coated unconscious. A fresh sharp pain shot through his spine and he moaned under its control. He was immobile and vulnerable. Yet despite seeing his obvious agony, the doctor did nothing.

"Hello Derrick," The doctor said examining his chart, never once bothering to see him. Derrick had a realization, to this man he was not a person, he was barely even a patient. To this man, he was a name on a sheet of paper that brought the hospital money. He was as much nothing here as he had been anywhere else.

"Please," he mumbled as another searing reminder of his father's handiwork shot through him. His back arched in pain and he let out a deep guttural moan. "Please," he begged again desperate to be free of the torture inflicted on him by his own body. He was at the mercy of this man, and anyone else who found him there.

The doctor put down the chart and studied him, for an inordinate amount of time. "You were always a disappointment." His gravely voice was haunting. Derrick's unconscious roared at him,  something was terribly wrong. Then he remembered, he remembered every painful detail of his childhood. Of the time before his adoption. He remembered, and he was terrified.

He remembered being tied to a machine crying. Needles embedded in his arms. Needles that pushed electricity through his chubby little limbs. His four-year-old brain not comprehending, just obeying. Then that voice saying the words that tore him to pieces daily. "Such a disappointment." He remembered screaming, days and nights of being forced awake. Real monsters under his bed and in his closet. Each monster had that man's face, his father's face.

Derrick desperately wanted to run. His memory was now clear and unrelenting. Flashing between numerous beatings, burnings, he had been whipped by the wind and buried alive. Every time his toddler brain was desperate for a resolution desperate for approval and every time that voice would say "such a disappointment."

He felt the air stolen from his lungs. He was gasping his eyes watered, he was at this man's mercy yet again. His hands were trapped in the medical stirrups. He thrashed and waved wildly trying to clutch at his throat.

He was not choking. No, that was different. His breath was just, gone. His eyes were wide and helpless as he stared at the face of the man who haunted his nightmares. The face of his real father. The face of the Elementalist.

"I thought your new father would beat the talent out of you, but it turns out you were always worthless." Derrick tried to scream but with no air, he had no voice. He could only breathe when The Elementalist let him breathe. Just enough to keep him conscious. His finger furiously smashed the help button. Surely someone could come, someone could help. "That was an unfortunate choice."

A nurse did come, as soon as she entered the room she was burned alive. She never even had time to scream. Her darkened corpse reduced to ash which was swept away by the wind. Derricks' heart monitor went wild, the Elementalist rolled his eyes and unplugged the machines. "Useless boy." Derrick threw the button away from himself, he couldn't call again. Nothing could keep him safe. His father granted him another breath, the sweet stale air was a precious gift. His mind was fading. The mix of the morphine and oxygen deprivation was taking its toll.

He could feel his body rebelling but could do nothing. He had no powers he never had. That was what made him a disappointment. No matter how many times his father buried him alive he could never save himself. No matter how many times he was burned, thrashed, and drowned there was no power in him. No secret source of potency. He was a disappointment even to himself.

His father watched him struggle, a sick sense of joy twisted his lips. "I may have found a use for you." Derrick froze. "Word is you know who is messing with my shipments." The Elementalist regarded Derrick's reaction with a smile. "You do don't you." Derrick shook his head. "Do not lie to me boy. I do not like liars. Let's try this again are you going to tell me who it is?"

Derrick nodded somberly. He was then was gifted with a fresh gust of air that filled his lungs. "Walker." Was all he could say as he greedily gasped at the last tendrils of wind before it was torn from him again.

The Elementalist smiled. "That certainly explains a lot." He walked over to the side of his hospital bed and leaned into his ear. "Get me Walker."

Derricks eyes shot open and he shook his head manically. He still did not have enough air to speak just enough to keep him awake. He was granted a single breath, he never knew when so each one was terrifying and valuable.

"I want Charlie." Derrick's mind flashed to the night on the barge, the pictures of his adopted father stuffed with cocaine and shook his head fear clutched at his heart. "God you are stupid." He punched Derrick's his broken leg. "I know you cannot handle Charlie. Get me his daughter. She trusts you." A devil's smile touched his lips, "Your weakness has finally found its purpose"

Derricks heart was thundering in his chest. He could not think clearly. He shook his head no. The Elementalist glared at him. "You will get her for me, or you will find yourself in pain far worse than you are feeling now. I am sure you remember my experiments?"

Derrick was consumed by fear. He watched the Elementalist for a few moments then bowed his head and nodded.