The air was thick with tension, the kind that made even the shadows shrink away. The hall reeked of antiseptic and something deeper, something stale, like old blood and forgotten screams. Everything in this place felt wrong, but somehow, today felt worse. I could taste it in the air, sharp and metallic.
I stood in the middle of the corridor, my shoulders loose, like I wasn't about to do the most idiotic thing of my life. I should've felt the familiar weight of panic, the rush of adrenaline. But it didn't come. It never did anymore. Instead, my mind was slow, almost detached, my thoughts drifting like smoke. For a second, I wanted to laugh.
I was seriously about to bawl my eyes out. A gun? Seriously? Why was my escape turning into some dramatic Movie scene? Everything was fine until he arrived.
Said man, Ezekiel, lay slumped against the wall, one hand clutching his leg, where a bullet wound leaked blood into his pristine white pants. His breathing was ragged, heavy with pain, but his eyes… those eyes were still sharp, calculating, watching me with a strange mix of amusement and something darker. Something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Fifty-five seconds left. The guards arrived then. They marched down the hall in neat formation, guns still raised, their bodies rigid with a mixture of duty and confusion. Ah, right. They still thought I was one of their new recruits. Whatever. If they thought I was just another mindless grunt, then they were in for a hell of a surprise. I wanted to test this anyway. Why not sooner than later?
I didn't move immediately. I let the silence linger. I was savoring it, letting them believe they had all the time in the world. They weren't the ones with the clock ticking.
"Take him. He's all yours."
I stepped to the left, casually, like the whole situation had nothing to do with me. Ezekiel raised an eyebrow. His bloodied face barely twitched, but I could see that look, the one that told me he was already thinking several steps ahead. Honestly, I didn't understand how he could stay so calm, not even with two guns pointed at him. The guy had been shot, for fuck's sake, but still, not a word of panic. He just… watched. Like he wasn't even here, as if everything was happening in some twisted game.
I wasn't interested in playing that game anymore.
Instead, I reached into my bag. The motion was casual, slow, as if I had all the time in the world. My fingers brushed over the cold surface of a water bottle. The plastic crinkled slightly as I pulled it out, and I could almost hear the guards' collective breath hitch, like they were preparing for a sudden, brutal confrontation. They tensed, but didn't move. Still, I felt their eyes on me, scrutinizing, unsure.
I twisted the cap off with a soft pop. My gaze never left Ezekiel, but I could feel the guards behind me shift uneasily. They probably expected me to pull out something more dangerous. A weapon. Hell, a knife. Anything but a water bottle.
But it wasn't a threat. At least, not in the way they thought. I tilted the bottle in my hand as if I were about to take a sip. My lips barely parted, my body language making it seem as mundane as any other time I'd reached for a drink. But the moment I did, the atmosphere shifted. The entire room seemed to hold its breath.
And then, in one fluid motion, I tossed the bottle forward.It should have been a meaningless gesture.
It wasn't.
The water suspended in mid-air for the briefest second. I could feel it, like a pulse, as if the liquid was weighing the options, trying to decide what to do. The way it hesitated before obeying… that was on me. I could almost hear the strain in my own mind, my thoughts fighting against the limits of what I could do.
The control wasn't there. It was messy. Clumsy. Hell, I wasn't even sure if it was control at all.
My fingers twitched again, and two large blobs of water formed midair. It wasn't graceful, not like the way some people made their powers look effortless. This wasn't some perfectly honed skill—it was a struggle. The water wobbled, shuddered, twisting more like a living thing trying to find its own way, rather than an attack I had crafted.
But that didn't matter. The moment the water touched the guards, their fate was sealed. I clenched my fist, and the water reacted, snaking over their faces like it had a mind of its own. It pressed into their skin, smothering their mouths, blocking their airways, but I wasn't done. I turned up the heat, slowly at first, like I was just turning up the dial on a stove. The water started to sizzle.
It wasn't immediate, but I could see it. The first guard flinched, his breath catching in his throat, his eyes wide with confusion as he tried to shove the liquid away from his face. And then, as if the boiling sensation hit him all at once, he screamed. His body jerked, and his hands scrambled at his face, trying to get the scalding water off, but it was no use.
The second guard wasn't far behind. As the water reached him, the same thing happened. He staggered, his mouth open in a silent scream before the sound finally tore free, high-pitched and broken. They both howled, the agony so raw, so intense, that it seemed to cut through the air like a jagged knife.
The sound of their pain echoed through the hall, each scream twisting my gut, making it harder to breathe.
But the control, or the lack of it, was the strangest part. The water was everywhere, wrapping around their faces, their necks, seeping into their clothes. Their skin began to bubble and burn, reddening under the heat as the liquid boiled over them. It wasn't quick. It wasn't clean. But it was precise. It was the kind of pain that wouldn't let go. I couldn't look away. Not yet. Not when they were writhing on the floor, screaming like animals caught in a trap.
Ezekiel coughed from his spot against the wall, his eyes flickering between the writhing guards and me. His gaze wasn't filled with fear, no, that wasn't Ezekiel's style. His face remained impassive, except for the briefest flicker of something. Was it amusement? Or was it something else? I couldn't tell. His expression was unreadable, but his voice? It rasped out like he was trying to keep it light, even with the pain in his leg.
"…Really?"
I turned to face him. My heart skipped a beat. His eyes, those eyes that I had come to both fear and admire, were locked on me. A strange, dry amusement flickered in them, even though he was in pain. It felt wrong, but I couldn't explain why.
But atleast i could test my theory out. It wasnt Water manipulation. Unlike Esra, i couldn't create water, but control all their aspects instead. The temperature, form and movement. But what was my drawback? I didnt feel anything. Shaking my head i refocused on Ezekiel.
"What?" I asked, my voice as indifferent as if we were discussing the weather. There was no panic in me. No guilt. Just an observation of the chaos I had created. I didn't expect it to be a clean kill, and I didn't expect to care.
Ezekiel stared at me for a long moment before exhaling a breathless chuckle. "Nothing. Just…" he winced, shifting against the wall, clearly in pain. His eyes, for a split second, flashed with something I couldn't place. But it wasn't amusement. It was something deeper. Something personal. "I forgot how dramatic you can be."
My stomach churned at the words, but I didn't show it. He was always like this, detached, almost unnervingly calm in the face of madness. I shrugged, pushing the discomfort away. I didn't have time for his cryptic remarks.
"Dramatic?" I muttered, glancing down at the guards, still struggling, still screaming. "They deserved it." The words felt hollow. I knew what they did to people like me. I knew what they helped the doctors do. They weren't worth it.
With a sigh, I dropped the water bottle. It hit the floor with a soft tap, a sharp contrast to the noise in the hall. The guards were still writhing, still screaming, but they were alive—barely. And that's when it hit me.
I glanced down at my watch, which then turned off, probably to the lack of battery. Seriously, Ezekiel could have prepared better. But i nonetheless saw the time left.
Fifteen seconds left.
Fifteen.
I couldn't let this go on forever. My chest tightened as I hurried to Ezekiel's side, one of his arms around my shoulders as I helped him stand up. His body was stiff, and I could feel his weight leaning on me more than I expected.
Ten seconds.
I glanced at him, trying to read his face, but there was something off. Something strange in the way his eyes wouldn't meet mine. His expression was guarded, like he was hiding something. He pulled away, a sudden sharp movement that threw me off balance.
Eight seconds.
We reached the exit door. I turned the handle, pushing it open without hesitation, the cool air rushing in to fill my lungs.
Four seconds.
But then I stopped.
Why didn't he question me?
How the hell did he know I could control water? He knew.
He knew. His eyes flicked to mine, something darker than guilt in them now.
Three seconds.
Without a word, he shoved me through the door. I stumbled forward, my confusion thick in my chest, but I couldn't look away from him. He had a strange, almost haunted look in his eyes, and for a second, I thought I saw… regret?
Two seconds.
"Go."
And just like that, Ezekiel was gone. The door slammed shut infront of my me.
Zero.
The door vanished, and so did Ezekiel's face.