WARNING: CHAPTER CONTAINS DEPICTIONS OF PHYSICAL CHILD ABUSE AND TORTURE. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.
NOT YET...
Not yet...
The pain-filled gurgles and harsh movements of his scrawny limbs jerking against the leather cuffs and unforgiving steel table, eventually died down to weakened, wet whimpers as he begins to lose strength.
Now!
I throw the empty bucket to the side, quickly pushing the cloth that covers his face down as well. It falls heavily to the floor, soaked with water.
I pay it no heed as I look over Silver's ashen face, his eyelids flutter as I call his name and he lets out another weak sound before he goes still.
Frighteningly, horrifyingly still.
Killing someone would be far easier. The delicate balance between life and death, where the mind is at its strongest is a precarious state to enter and exit.
This practice is crude, and I loathe it with every bone that lives in my body. Past training sessions brutally cut short the lives of many Enhanced. I pored over their deaths in the emotionless forms of numbers on confidential documents. Desperate to learn everything I could to eradicate the cycle of endings.
Even then, I had to stop, taking refuge at the Goddess's altar to pray for the lives of those lost in vain.
Now my head is empty of all thoughts as I reach for a knife from nearby to cut through the thick leather cuffs as though they were butter. My trembling hands nicked his flesh, but I doubt he'll be too cross with me; The area rubbed raw of far too many layers of skin.
"Silver... Silver!"
I take him into my arms, my adrenaline spikes as his head lulls to the side, unsupported.
I press my fingers to his neck, praying to everything that is right and Holy that I will feel the thrumming of blood just beneath the skin.
There is nothing.
I press him flat against the table again, bringing my hands to his chest to push against his heart. I work in intervals as I breathe air into his lungs.
Please do not let me be the reason for this boy's death.
Panic turns to frustration as more valuable time passes without movement from the child.
Refusing to admit defeat, I press my hands closer, readying myself to send an electric current to his heart. I've never done so before but, I won't lose him.
I can't.
I forcefully regulate my erratic breathing as I concentrate the ever-present power in my heart to my hands. The currents push to the unresponsive heart below, and my thoughts too preoccupied to worry about if it was too much or too little.
Wake Up!
I wake to the smell of burnt cloth and stinging hands as sweat drips from my body. The nightclothes I wore to bed stick close to my skin, and I groan as I raise myself from the mattress.
The sheets where my hands were are burnt black with thin whispers of smoke still rising from the charred material.
My gaze turns to the curtains, and I push them back to look at the faint morning light beginning to brighten the still fuzzy outline of the cityscape.
It's early... too early. Yet I know soon enough the streets will buzz with people as the new day begins in earnest. Taking it as a sign, I shower and dress myself in the familiar black robes of our Mother's Sanctuary, better known as Founder's Sanctuary.
True to its name, the sturdy structure has stood tall since the conception of New Sable City. It was a husk of its present-day glory, but Jay pulled from his pocket to pay for the renovations.
Not without his own personal additions.
The high-tech elevator and keypad appear out of place surrounded by the red brick and wooden trimming predominant in the Sanctuary.
I enter the password, and the sleek doors slide open with a barely perceptible hiss. Even now, I stand in awe as the elevator travels deeper underground. I haven't the faintest clue how he could construct the daycare, he mentioned something about contractors from China and I left it there. Digging any more would seem suspicious, especially since I had only just begun working for Jay back then.
The five years of being the head of the daycare have passed with the speed of thick molasses.
Though I am an adult in the prime of life, there's a wariness that I can't seem to shake as I push at the concealed door positioned just before the recreational room the children eat and play.
I can't keep doing this for much longer.
The edges of the door blend in seamlessly with the surrounding wall, and many times I have to feel around foolishly for it before anything gives.
This time I find what I'm looking for, and the door opens noiselessly under the push of my palm.
Beyond is a dark area I've become overly intimate with. There are no lights in this room, not that they're necessary. The room was about the size of a walk-in closet, the bare walls and floors alight with a soft glow that projected from the monitors lining the wall ahead. The many screens sat on a long table with two sets of keyboards before them.
"You're here early."
Marcella spins around in one of the two office chairs stationed in front of the setup. She insisted on them, preaching on about wheels being necessary when sitting for long periods of time.
She peers at me from behind her round glasses. I can't tell what she's thinking with the glare from the monitors blocking her eyes from me. Not that I would have been able to tell if it weren't there.
The woman is a complete mystery to me. I would have preferred to run the daycare on my own, despite the crippling workload it would add to my duties to the sanctuary above. But when Jay decided she would be here as well, I couldn't argue.
"I woke far too early, no sense in lying in bed when I won't be able to go back to sleep. How are the children?"
She jerked her chin toward the screens.
"See for yourself."
I turn my head to observe the many scenes being displayed on the monitor. The cameras were so small when I first saw them, I didn't think they would be of good quality. Despite the black-and-white image, I can clearly see the furrow between Isabelle's brows as she pores over a medical book that must be too complex for her.
I briefly scan over the others before stopping on Silver, straining my eyes to pick up the subtle movement of his chest as he lies prone in his bed. Even now, the memory of checking his vitals and carrying him back to his room feels fuzzy.
The vivid image of his rapidly cooling body beneath my hands felt far more real.
I really do hate what I have to do to them.
I rub a hand over my face, trying to remind myself that the monochrome image of the very much alive child is the truth.
"That bad, huh?"
I side-eye her as she noisily chops into a chocolate bar without a care in the world. Despite her harmless image, I remind myself that she has probably been working for the mafia for years now.
"I did offer to do it."
"The last time you tried, Carlyle almost died."
"Exactly, that's what it means to have a near-death experience. You have to almost die. You went too easy on the kid, but if you're lucky, he might wake up with a water enhancement."
"Things rarely go that smoothly."
"So, what you got planned next?"
"Perhaps I should stick closer to what he's used to."
"A good old fashion beating, then."
"Something like that."
Marcella hums happily, and something in the pit of my stomach churns in discomfort.
"You should head back up there, I know you just came down to check on the kid."
I rise from the chair reluctantly and head back to where the door should be.
"Send a prayer up to the goddess for me."
Marcella says in a singsong voice as she gives another twirl from her seat.
"I will." I always do.
I retrace my steps until I find myself before the altar, trying to clear my thoughts through the familiar routine of cleaning and preparing the area to receive guests and fellow devotees.
At seven, the doors are opened and I bask in the morning light as the sun continues its rise into the sky.
As I welcome returners in for morning prayers, my gaze floats back to the sky periodically. I should have painted the sky-blue blanket and fluffy clouds onto the ceiling of the children's room.
They won't be able to see the real one for a while.