The People with Useless Power

Chapter Twenty-eight I Think I Don't Know I'm Spiraling Into a Pit of Panic

[A/N:
TW: Suicide.

Guys, I just had a huge panic attack. Like, cold-liquid-running-to-back-of-head, hyperventilating, tears-coming-to-eyes kind of panic attack. Because chapter 13 apparently didn't show up in my editing thing.

And then I checked and it was there in reader mode thing. So... I'm crying, but it's okay.

Also, never look up "black and white eye". Never. It's... just don't do it.

Enjoy this chapter!]

She hadn't realized she was awake until the voices spoke.

"Emily Houston, in the past few days, have you felt a feeling of hopelessness?"

Emily shuddered, feeling the familiar, disembodied voice shake her bones, but clamped her mouth shut.

"Emily Houston," the feminine voice spoke, with more force, "in the past few days, have you felt a feeling of hopelessness?"

"Not in particular," she grumbled, deciding to reach out into the dark world around her. Emily gasped as pain sliced through her palm. She snatched her hand back and hugged her waist.

"Don't move," a gruff voice demanded, and she didn't respond.

"Have you been diagnosed with any illnesses or disorders?"

"Mentally?"

"....yes, mentally."

She heard a soft 'idiot' coming from someone behind her, and she frowned, furrowing her eyebrows. "No."

"Stockholm Syndrome?"

"Uh... no, not at all," Emily answered, and the silence that followed was deafening.

"Miss Houston, Stockholm Syndrome is characterized as feeling trust or affection, from victim to captor, in cases such as hostage-taking. You seemed to get very comfortable around the people that kidnapped you from home quickly."

Emily felt beads of sweat run down her forehead. "Well, sure, but... they have that, uh, vibe?"

When more silence continued, she spoke again. "Well, I mean, it usually doesn't work that unrealistically fast."

"You felt as if you belonged with them." The voice sounded understanding, but her nerves only sparked.

"Yes, I did. I didn't feel the same kind of jealousy as I did at home, where everyone else had better powers."

"I noticed you said 'had'. What do you mean by that?"

"I'm not exhausted by my power anymore," she boasted, "I figured out how to switch that off. The losing energy thing."

There was a pause, and then a laugh. "Why, Emily, you're so unintelligent. So stupid. First you call a spear a knife-staff-"

"Hey, how'd you-"

"-and then you brag to me about learning how to switch off a setting that everyone switched off when they were two! Such a unique power placed with such a disappointing specimen. No wonder Humans went extinct."

"What?"

There was another silence, followed by the sound of metal hitting skin, and a cry of pain. As Emily's vision returned in squares, she could make out the room she was in, finally.

She was up to her neck in machine, a white and grey glowing one, and a women with blue hair was curled up in a ball on the ground, wearing a black headset.