Ataxia

epilogue

Jonathan Radcliffe kicked his feet up, laying back on his small mattress in his prison cell miles below the floor of the Gulf of Mexico. If there was one thing that was guaranteed, he wasn't going to escape. Not by himself, anyway.

"Mr. Radcliffe, you have a visitor," the strict voice of the guard who watched over his cell, Officer Sanchez, opened the door, fearlessly stepping inside. He had several weapons and tools on his belt, ready to be used if someone were to escape.

Radcliffe stepped out, bounded by shackles and an anklet that monitored him, like a FitBit. Except it would paralyze him the moment he tried to use his abilities. He sat down in the chilly metal chair across from his visitor.

She sat there, her arms folded very neatly and properly as if she was some kind of royal official. She picked up the microphone, speaking into it.

"I see you are doing well."

He scoffed. "As well as I can. Are you trapped under the Gulf of Mexico in a tiny prison cell, surrounded by several guards who are equipped to pin you down and possibly kill you in a single bound if you try to do anything out of line?"

"Stop your whining," she said, annoyed. "It's almost time."

"You said that last week. And the week before that. And the week before that. Shall I go on?" He replied sarcastically.

"No, you shall not. You just have to trust me. There is a perfect timing for everything. And I know the perfect timing." She said, glaring at him through the glass. "Now, the reason I came here is that I needed to tell you our next move."

Radcliffe almost laughed."The next move? Our first move failed. If it weren't for those idiots who destroyed my plan of attacking the facility and --"

"I said to stop whining," she growled. "Everything is coming into place, you just don't see it. All we need is Destine Whiston's cooperation and we will be ever closer to claiming our rightful freedom."

"Destine Whiston, eh?" He said, grinning. "That should be easy enough, right?"

"Of course it will be. She's my sister," said August, folding her hands again. "They won't even suspect it." She stood up, pushing her chair in.

"But when will I be set free?" Radcliffe asked hastily, clutching the microphone in his tied hands.

"Soon enough," she was about to reach for the door and stopped to make eye contact with him. Her eyes shifted colors again. "Just be prepared. The end is coming, Radcliffe. The entire world is in the palm of my hands."