Jewel

She primal screamed, it was unavoidable. The latest of Dr. Rice’s serums injected into her spinal fluid at the base of her neck. Face down on the table she is desperate for something to claw at as sparks of electricity shoot up and down her spine and into her brain as the chemicals dance with her DNA, enhancing and augmenting.

Momentarily she shuts down, her body re calibrating, before it awakens in a flurry of surround sound technicolor. The restraints are removed and she vomits over the side of the table, heart racing, EEG dangerously high. An alarm sounds, she can hear people moving, see herself in their minds as they evacuate the room, she is unrecognizable, a crude sight.

Dr. Rice is giving final orders, removing his expensive equipment from her body. He strokes her head and she enters his mind unwillingly, his touch causing the connection. He is concerned but will not interfere any longer, he has pushed her too far, the concoction was too powerful. She sees her body convulsing through his eyes, then he is gone.

She feels the hands of another, one metal, one flesh. It’s his job to stay behind, to control all threats. She is currently unpredictable, she is currently his responsibility. Quickly he removes his large coat, biceps exposed under his short sleeved black shirt. He gathers her vibrating body into his capable arms, unaffected by the chaos that has just occurred around them. It is his way, the calm within a storm, it’s what he excels at, demanding control.

She wraps her arms around his neck, her head buried into him. He carries her into an adjoining room, it is dark and cool. A tub awaits her, it has been prepared just for her. It so simple, water. Water not chemicals is the thing that pacifies her, allows her to regain control. For weeks they have done this, she endues Dr. Rice and his combinations of chemicals. Results have varied.

He sits her fully clothed in the tub but she is clinging to him so tight. His scent and body familiar as he allows her the reprieve. She is still shaking uncontrollably, unable to communicate with words. He kneels beside her, still allowing her to hold him. She shows him her gratitude with her mind, implanting images of her thanks, for granting her this mercy before it was too late, before she loses all composure and modesty.

He pulls her arms from his neck, a little more aggressive than required. He is put off put by her intrusion and she sees his disgust in her mind, she lets him go. Her breathing is still erratic, she is trying to stop her mind from reaching beyond the boundaries she is allowed, so she slips under the water, allowing it to purify her mind and body from the latest unnatural attack.

Almost 5 months she has been here in this place. At first the test were simple, not intrusive, once Dr. Rice had a baseline for her abilities he started with the next stage. The chemical compounds, sometimes they would be too much, her body and brain shutting down. Her body going into shock, placed in an induced coma while it recovered, other days not strong enough, days of isolation would follow, no need for her as the next mixture was created.

Her mutation could have been easily disregarded, written off. There are many that can do as she does, meditation and dedication is all it would take. But her, she is a natural, she is a pure, made of it, it’s written in her code, ready to be manipulated and harvested to Dr. Rice’s pleasing. Precognitive Telepath that’s what they call her.

She had qualified as a resident, her compliance and uniqueness deeming her a reliable asset, a durable investment. She was moved from her small cell like room to a more hospitable one, still stark and bare but with the potential to make it personal. Double bed, private bathroom, an empty shelf and desk. Both these things slowly filled with books and writing supplies as rewards were earned as the months passed.

Her greatest privilege or torture was that her room had a window, teasing her, allowing her to see the world but not touch it. She was not sure what she had done to deserve such treatment to be tested in such a way. He, Don she calls him, was disappointed when she did not jump for joy, or thank him endlessly. Her cold expression as she looked into his face angered him, her eyes full of tears as she looked up into his. He looked down at her like a disappointed parent, like he did not know how to satisfy his child so he left the room with fury. She read him as he stormed through the hall, he had made himself vulnerable, shown a weakness and she had been ungrateful.

She would sit by that window and stare, escape into old memories or sneak into those that came to tend to her. Quietly she was testing her new amplified strength, studying and researching, this place, its location, its layout, its inner workings. She was learning about the monster she resided in. Sometimes she would dream with her eyes open, lost and unreachable. Was it a fantasy or the future she was seeing?

She was allowed time in the common room, a place where others in the green zone would gather in silence, play games, read, watch old movies or sporting games but nothing to insight too much emotion. They would walk like shadows up and down the corridors knowing any little step out of place would mean the end of such a great privilege.

She had been dozing on one of the large lounge chairs in the common room, wrapped in a blanket with her feet and ankles exposed. An old baseball game running on the screen built into the wall, all the others had gone back to their rooms. She sensed him before she heard his heavy boots, the sound of his heavy jacket shifting as he walked, even in her half-conscious state his energy consumed her, black hole that he was.

Technically she was not supposed to be there, but after the trials of the last few days she was given some liberties. He sat himself down next to her in the last remaining space on the lounge, arm stretched over the back above her. She made no effort to move, to make space for his expansive build.

“You like baseball?” he asked casually, eyes on the game, sipping his coffee.

“No. Not at all.” She replied with a lethargic voice, she saw a flash in his mind of him rising, changing the station. “Please don’t!” She said, a plea in her voice as she sat up and put her hand on his arm above her.

Turning his head he looked at her with an inquisitive eye. “I ain’t done nothin yet.”

They held each other’s eyes before she asked with her mind,

“Please don’t change it.”

He raised his eyebrows as she lay back down, to tired to play his little games and it’s hard to talk to him when he looks at her with such intimacy.

“I like to hear the crowd,” She sighed “I can feel the heat, smell the sweat, taste the beer and hotdogs.” She was starting at the screen again.

“Mmhmm” he responded taking another gulp of coffee.

In a strange comfortable silence they sat. He had become a part of her life, a part of her routine. Medical staff came and went, Dr. Rice was only present for major procedures, but him, he was always around.

Suddenly he grabbed her ankle, holding tighter than necessary, he is making a point as he felt her calf muscles contract.

“I can feel ya poking round in there.” He said in an unaffected tone but making his feelings known, her breathing became deeper, waiting for his retaliation. “Tell me what ya lookin for.” He said as he released some of the strength in his hand.

She allowed herself a moment to gather her thoughts, they had been in each other’s company countless times before, often at her most vulnerable, but this was something different.

She knew her mistake, she did not ask permission, an unsolicited endeavor.

“You know so much about me.” She said tentatively, licking her dry lips as nerves started to build. “I know so little about you.”

The crowd roared on the screen, neither of them took their eyes off it. His thumb began to draw circles just above her ankle and he sat a little deeper in the chair. Taking his final gulp of coffee he placed the mug on the ground beside him. Pulling her naked feet into his lap he rested his head on the back of the lounge.

“Go on then.” Was all he said as his hands, one flesh, one metal began to massage her feet.

She couldn’t help but fall into the feeling of him, those hands that can create such horror and such simple pleasures. She wondered what would happen if someone found them, how fast word would spread between the staff and others, it would only add to the talk of her favored treatment.

She allowed herself to fall deeper, become apart of the moment and then slipped into his world. Flashes from his youth, an abusive father, absent mother, college, the good looking engineering prodigy, the military and then this place. She found a memory of him as a child, sent to a relatives for the summer, he was happy, so she stayed, falling asleep in his mind and being a part of him for a while.