Talking to or even having a chance of seeing Samantha would be hard. I was a recent allowance into the facility, with powers that interfered with other patients. Patients who could become unpredictable if their powers were suddenly revoked and returned due to my presence.
“Ryan, Dr. Wiles is here to see you,” said a guard. The door opened up anyway, letting the therapist in.
“Thank you Lovecraft,” said Dr. Wiles as the guard closed he door behind him.
He sat down on a chair.
“It’ll be pretty hard at first,” he said softly. “I don’t think you’ll truly get used to it here.”
I didn’t react to him.
“You know, you’ve seem to have come about a change from our last conversation. Was it something I said?”
I almost said something. He sighed and put the clip holder down on his lap.
“Yes,” I replied.
“We can’t undergo treatment if you are unwilling,” Dr. Wiles said.
“Doesn’t matter. You can’t treat me anyway, didn’t you already say that?” I asked with irritation seeping into my voice.
Dr Wiles smiled and sat back.
“We recently employed a long range psychic, Ryan. Normally he’d be unavailable due to checks and procedures to make sure he’s not doing stuff, but we’ve found the limits of his power along with other things and concluded that he’s fit to work on cases like yours,” Dr Wiles explained. “He’ll be arriving tomorrow to see if there are any imprints from Taker.”
“…If you can’t find any?” I asked.
“Well, if we can’t find any obvious markers, that’s how things go. It is unlikely that your terms of confinement will change because of the results of the test.”
I nodded approval. I also felt stifled. Ever since the Hunting Party came, I’d spent a significant amount of time talking to professionals in fields I didn’t care for. If anything, I began to miss the education I was supposed to have. Nobody mentioned it at all, yet. I wanted to ask why, but that was on the back burner.
It wasn’t like I’d ever really retain some normalcy in my life, anyway. All my living friends were either in the Junior Group or Villains. The conversation ended with relief, relief that was put at the back of my mind. I had more pressing issues to deal with and I was sticking to them.
A soft rumble filled the air. Something I didn’t expect. Maybe somebody’s powers were acting up?
I got off the chair I was in and so did Wiles. We looked at each other.
“What was that?” I asked.
He smiled and patted me on a shoulder. “It’s most likely a patient acting up. Don’t worry about it. You’ll most likely be fine.”
I shrugged. I was technically the safest person here who didn’t have super strength of some sort.
“So…” I said, sitting back down as a second, louder rumble hit. “You want to leave or stay?”
Wiles shook his head, tense. There was too much noise for this to be anything but trouble. How many powers here, all under their own forms of confinement? What happens if something sets them off, makes them react?
How dangerous is this situation? I could still hear the panicked guards as-
Wiles jumped off his seat and away from me in fright.
“Ryan, the wall beside you!”
I could already feel it, the heat. Something was melting the wall, and then it stopped. I guessed a melting touch, and I was correct.
“I figured it out, he won’t be able to attack.”
Wiles face turned from worry to anger and then a mix of both pity and panic.
“No you idiot! That patient spits a flaming oil!”
I felt an intense burning as he said that. I was hit dead on, almost my entire right side covered. I didn’t even have a chance to get up.
I got up and grabbed the back of the chair, turning while I was still on fire. Wiles already backed up as far as he could, in the doorway.
My attacker was the next cell over. He was climbing through the cell, his face partially masked by something that should have stopped him spitting whatever it was. The tube that extracted the source of his powers was ripped out, hanging off his face like a trunk. He was looking through the hole and tried to climb through.
Tried. I knocked him out with a swing of the chair to his face. More liquid poured out the mask and ignited the floor.
I dropped the chair since the fires consuming me partially were obscuring my vision and the pain was beginning to show. It landed in the pool and ignited. A grim sight.
I turned and saw Wiles already opened the door, and was looking at me. A rumbling crash filled the air.
“Fuck,” I said, feeling the flames burn me. I was going to be disfigured by the end of this; that was a fact.
I ran out the room, taking my clothes off and screaming incoherently as the pain reached breaking point before the hallway turned white and I felt a new kind of agony; cold.
The flames that hugged by body were ice, and I was frozen to the floor.
I couldn’t even scream any more. My breath was taken away by the cold, the ice crushing my naked chest.
“Hey,” said a voice. “You are new, right?”
I couldn’t see who it was. I knew it was a guy by the voice however.
A tear leaked from my face. Tears of pain.
“Wait, how’d your ears not get frozen?”
The cold was distracting me. How I was still awake was a mystery.
Still, I shivered out my response. “Nu-nu-null-lific-ca-ca-cation.”
He was blue, head to toe. His eyes, the whites in them, his hair, his teeth, his skin. All blue. I looked to mt left, where Wiles was. He was dead. Frozen mid step as he tried to run away, as the frost and stiffness of his body could tell me.
The man with the freezing powers stood before me, before looking into my cell behind me and back at my face.
“Wow,” he smiled. “You got Firespitter.”
I blinked, the cold was driving me crazy.