Nothing Safe

Daelen lifted his head, wondering where he was. He could see nothing. All was black around him. He felt the familiar panic starting up, freezing his chest. Have I gone blind? Am I dead?, he wondered. A sudden light was flicked on, and Daelen squinted, his heart beating fast. He saw the blurry image of a...gas mask? Panic froze over. He recognized it.

"Welcome back, freak." the doctor said to him quietly. "Congratulations on getting away from Hollow Point. I bet for awhile, you were sure we weren't going to find you." He laughed from behind his mask, running a finger along Daelen's jawline. "She cleaned you up nicely. It's unfortunate that you'll never see her again."

Daelen shivered and dropped his eyes to his bound hands. "I don't know what you're talking about," he murmured, voice shaking.

"I think you do, Daelen. You just don't want to think about what will happen to her, or you for that matter." He looked down at Daelen and cackled. "You will never escape us again. Never again will you be with your precious girlfriend or her friend. You'll be with us for the rest of your life."

Anger seared through Daelen, the likes of which he had never felt before. He looked up, right into the eyes behind the gas mask. "Fuck. You." And with admirable accuracy, spit right onto the eye lens.

The doctor ripped a scalpel from his overcoat, quickly making a cut into Daelen's chest. "Don't you dare disrespect me again. That will hopefully remind you of how to act in front of me." He threw a paper towel at him. "Clean yourself up, if you can." With that, he slammed the cell door behind him, storming out.

Daelen gasped from the sudden pain, but luckily, the cut was not too deep. He clasped the paper towel between his palms, pressing it to the cut. He was trying to remember what had happened before he woke up in the dark basement he currently resided in. He had been holding food and was walking back to the tree. He had felt something on his neck, a quick prick. Then he woke in darkness. He hoped Noire and Scott were alright. He hoped that they wouldn't come looking for him. He knew Noire would.
--
Noire buried herself deeper within her covers. She inhaled, taking in what was left of Daelen. More tears pouring down her face as she tried to contain her sobs. He's gone, I can't believe it. she thought to herself. How was she going to get him back?

There was a knock on the door. "Noire?"

"Go away.." she trailed off, hugging the pillow beside her.

There was a sigh. "Noire, we can't just let Daelen die. We need to do something."

"How, Scott?!" she screamed at him through the door. "We don't know where he is, or what those people are capable of."

"This is ridiculous--" Scott strode in. "We can call the police. We can go looking some more. We can tell your parents. Anything."

"I bet the doctors told the police. I also bet that my parents won't believe me and will just be disappointed in me. Unlike Daelen, you don't know how my parents are." Noire glared, before lowering her gaze to the empty spot next to her. "I need to do this myself.."

"By yourself? That's crazy," Scott replied, shocked. "If you go by yourself, you'll be killed for sure. You need someone to watch your back. I can do that, Noire. You don't have to be alone."

More tears leaked from her eyes. "But what if something happens to you, Scott? I can't live with that, I just can't."

"Yeah, and I would ask the same thing of myself if I didn't go with you. If I just let you die, all on your own." Scott sighed and sat down beside her. "Noire. You're not responsible for me. This is my life, and I make my choices as I see fit. And my choice is that I want to help you. Please let me."

She nodded, holding Scott's hand gently. "Thank you, Scott. You're a wonderful friend." she said timidly.

Scott pulled her into a hug. "You are too, you know," he replied. "So...we need a plan, don't we?"
--
"Are we ready to talk now, Mr. Ezra?" the doctor asked as he stepped into the cell.

Daelen did not glance up. "About what?" he asked in a low voice.

"That's up to the boss to tell you." he replied, unlocking the metal cuffs but keeping a tight grip on Daelen's wrist. After he released him from the wall, he locked on a pair of handcuffs and wrapped a blindfold around his eyes.

Daelen didn't say a word as the doctor open the door and shoved him along. His mind was racing with possibilities. Would he be tortured again? His knees were shaking, ready to collapse. What if he never saw Noire again? Or worse, what if they hurt her too?

"Hello, Daelen. What a pleasure this is to finally meet you." a deep voice said, greeting a blind Daelen. The doctor ripped the blindfold from his face, revealing a slender man seated in a large chair.

Daelen felt quite out of character as he let his tongue slip once more. "Well, isn't this cliche," he answered. "An evil man in a massive rotating chair."

The boss frowned and walked over to Daelen. "This is serious business we're about to discuss. I have a proposal for you." he said, sitting himself back down in his chair.

"Yeah, and I might have considered if I wasn't drugged and kidnapped. It really doesn't help anything."

"So you won't help us?" The boss clicked his tongue. "What a shame." Turning to the doctor, he smirked. "Geoff, why don't you gather a couple more of our most physically fit doctors and have a bit of fun going after Daelen's little girlfriend. Noire, is it?" he asked, smiling down at Daelen.

The man's rebellious expression gave way to horror. "She's got nothing to do with this!" he shouted. "You leave her alone."

"If you agree to what I'm about to propose, I can promise you nothing will happen to her. Are you willing to listen?"

"So that's it? I agree or you kill her?" Daelen asked. "What kind of fucked up logic is that?" The taller man did not answer, waiting for a straight answer. Daelen grimaced and looked up. "I'm willing to listen," he answered stiffly.

The boss beamed. "Excellent. This wondrous company I run is called the United Study of Entities. Here at USE, we work with people of extraordinary abilities: psychics, dream manipulators, illusionists, and shape shifters. We also specialize in studying serial killers and learning the way their minds process." He leaned forward in his chair, tapping his finger on the desk. "We would like your help."

"What's the catch?" Daelen asked, knowing it was not as pleasant as it sounded.

"There is no catch, Daelen. The doctors here tell me your psychic powers are incredibly strong. It would be a treat to have someone such as yourself to study. We also thought that maybe you could help us to find more people like yourself to join the organization. The sooner we have more people to help us, the faster we'll all understand how some people become this way."

Daelen looked up, glaring. "You want me to help you lock up innocent people so you can probe at them like helpless animals? Is that what you're saying?"

The boss shook his head. "That's not what I'm saying. If they don't want to be studied on then of course we will not force them. You are a different matter though. You've been recommended and you could help us to a breakthrough that can affect the entire world." He stood up and held out his hand. "Will you help us, at least for awhile?"

Daelen stood straight up, looked at the hand extending towards him, and spit on it.
--
Daelen didn't regret a thing. Not even though a doctor struck him violently. Not even after his mouth started bleeding and he was forced into a straight jacket. And not even after he was shoved into a cell, hitting the wall and slamming against the floor with nothing to break his fall. Because it was worth it. It was worth to see the real man behind the pleasant facade. That way, Daelen knew he had made the right choice.

He struggled up to sit against the cold wall as the cell was closed with a slam. He looked up at the doctor and imagined a sneer behind the mask.

"Little fucker. You better hope this won't be the death of you." the doctor said, kicking the cell bars before walking away.

Daelen grunted, blood from his split lip trailing down his chin and dripping onto the white straight jacket. He used the wall to push himself up, his bruised body aching. Suddenly he stopped, hearing a sound in the neighboring cell.

"Psst. Hey, are you okay?" the boy next to him asked.

Daelen turned his head to see the kid through the bars. He could see he was Japanese, very thin, with a thick shock of black hair. Daelen grimaced at the question. "Could be better. You?"

The boy grinned. "About the same." He crawled over to the bars, tugging at the chain attached to his right foot. "Why are you here?"

"They want to use me," Daelen replied bitterly. "I'm just a tool to them. Use and discard. I won't do it. I can't."

"Don't you think you should though? Maybe you'll be able to be free. Maybe if I had said yes to the boss' deal, I wouldn't still be locked up in here.." the boy trailed off, before piping up again. "Anyways, I'm Rentaro."

Daelen extended his hand through the bars. "I'm Daelen. Look, we need to find a way out. They're going to hurt my friends-"

"I think that's a wonderful idea, Daelen. The only question is how. The doctors usually guard every door." Rentaro said, reaching out and shaking Daelen's hand firmly.

"We'll figure something out," The other man answered firmly. "I spent over a decade in a cell. I'm not about to let it happen again."