A very wise person once said, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”. After waking up I realized that was bullshit. It hurt, everything did. And not in the good way either, it stung deep, from the tips to my toes to the slightly charred bits of my hair. I felt weak, brittle, a cracked and fractured window a touch away from breaking away into nothingness.

I had a splitting headache, every breathe elicited a sharp pain behind my eyes like a knife was being stabbed into my brain and every movement was the twist in my head. My body felt sweaty and feverish, it almost wanted me to cut open my head and pour cold water directly on my brain just for some quick relief from the grasp of whatever fresh hell that was coming.

Or maybe I was dead? My eyelids flickered open greeting darkness before me, but something was off. Just like when you press on your eyes lightly, colors seemed to dance before me. Not bright colors but mixed in with the darkness like the crashing waves of an ocean of washed out colors.

I wiggled my body to get a feel for my surroundings which sprung forth a whole new wave of sensations. The bad kind too, If I was dead this sucked. At least through death, you get free or that’s the prevailing idea. I seemed to be in some sort of wooden chair with straps on my ankles, wrists and one around my forehead keeping me locked in. Like how you see people getting tortured in movies.

A few minutes went by as I waited for my pupils to adapt to the dark lighting but it was still dark as hell. I was beginning to wonder if I was drugged or something as my eyelids were feeling heavy until I got the ever so bright idea to call out.

I tried to say “anyone there?” but what really came out was “uhughh?”. My tongue felt like a lump of puddy for how much it was working as well as my mouth was dry. Definitely drugged, not that I would know how that felt of course.

I grunted louder this time hoping for something to happen until I heard a spinning of an axle and the clicking of locks being unlocked. That was different, the door never had any sort of locking mechanism beforehand. Or at least he didn’t think so since he had more pressing things in his mind before.

The heavy door creaked open slowly, or at least that’s what he thought since oddly he still couldn’t see the door but instead he just went off the sounds that came from the door. Probably just whatever drugs that were still lingering in my system.

The heavy shoes echoed throughout the cell until it seemed to stop before me. I grunted again, but this time it almost seemed coherent.

“Here drink some water Chase,” an unfamiliar man’s voice commanded.

A glass touched my lips and I gulped down the water greedily. Feeling marginally better I tried to talk non-gibberish.

“Why am I in a chair?”

“You have reached the second phase, how do you feel?”

It took a few more seconds before I could respond because of my slow processing of his words.

“Peachy”

“You don’t look peachy you’ve been unconscious for four days” He commented while opening my eyelids further open.

“Huh” I didn’t know much about human anatomy but that didn’t sound healthy.

Something must’ve been wrong since he cursed and opened them again. He mumbled something under his mouth and walked out the room and closing the door. When the final clicks of the locks have been re-locked I was left back in silence.

Like honestly what was I going to do? I was strapped to this god-awful chair, I feel like absolute shit and I could barely talk much less endanger them. Or maybe it was to keep whatever was going to happen to me inside and not out? I just sat there, after that. Not coming up with an elaborate escape plan, or figuring out what the hell was going on but just sitting there thinking about absolutely nothing.

In a way, it was kinda nice.

After what could’ve been either five minutes or thirty the heavy door slowly creaked forward. This time I could hear two pairs of feet walk towards me albeit more hesitantly. There was something wrong and I had an inkling of what.

“Turn on the lights” I mumbled still slurring my words.

A beat passed before someone answered who I realized was Mr.Richards “Chase… The lights are on”

Silence, as I processed what was up.

“Does that mean I’m… blind?”

Even though I was scared of not asking I was more afraid of the actual answer itself.

There was a long sigh “You should be lucky to be alive, not many people can still talk after going through what you did”

“I’d stick that luck up your ass if you head wasn’t already lodged up it.

Maybe I should feel grateful, but I really didn’t feel that way. The feeling was inexplicable, being vulnerable to who or whatever wished ill upon me. And I hated it. For the last few years, I spent the time trying not to feel so helpless. And all I’ve achieved is going back to step one and taking free dive down the cliff of taking steps backward.

I started to strain into the fabric keeping me in place. My muscles straining, if I could see my arms I would see the veins popping from my body. Every nuance of effort was being pushed outwards trying with all my might to break through. But all I achieved was cutting some of the skin around the fabric and enhancing my splitting headache and into a full-blown chronic headache.

“Feeling better?” Mr.Richards questioned.

I stayed silent withholding any words like my silence would make a difference. How much more would I have to endure from this? It wasn’t like there was anything worth taking anymore.

“Good, let’s change that”

I buttoned the remaining button and stared at myself in the sleek mirror mounted on the wall. It was important to dress to impress to every occasion. I sleeked back my black hair with a small black comb that I always had on hand. After one last look in the mirror, I started to make my way towards the warehouse.

I walked as if death himself wouldn’t dare associate him with me. Eyes always hidden behind a pair of dark aviators, darting at every person, calculating every threat, every exit. Reading people’s body languages, anticipating what they are feeling and what they will feel.

Some may say it was paranoid but I found it rather necessary for my line of work. One must take pride in what they did. I finally reached the warehouse, to the outside world it was a rundown building with not a single speck of sentient life in it. But those who could pick apart every detail, every nuance of data is was childs play really.

After punching in the double-digit code the steel door clicked and I walked through. Down each hallway and room I walked, coworkers milled about taking stock of weapons and other… projects. Until finally I reached my destination, a simple oak door with a slightly rusted handle. I gently grasped the handle and turned it slowly listening for any sort of click that would resemble a door-knob-bomb.

Thankfully there was none and I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. Before me was a plain room with no windows and no other doors leaving the one method of exit behind me. A woman sat in a chair across a table where she was being yelled at by a short balding man named Mr. Jenkings. Tears stained her cheeks, her hair resembled a rat’s den and her jacket was in shambles.

What a mess to be introduced to me in such a miserable state. He would have to make it up to her somehow.

‘That will be enough Mr. Jenkings I will take it from here” I said, my silky voice slithering to Mr.Jenkings and the woman.

Quick in a flash, he jumped up tucking in his button-down shirt hastily and made way for the door “Of course sir”.

After he left I stood in place looking at the sad excuse for a woman.

“After I heard who was going to testify against us I was surprised. I didn’t know who had the balls to go that far.”

The woman sat shaking fearfully looking up to me.

“Now I tried to be nice, I cleaned up the situation and I even made sure to warn you what would happen if you tried to be the hero. Have I not?” I glared at her through my shades, reading her body language.

Silence.

“Now, I tried to understand your intentions. I did. You wanted to be like one of the televised superheroes in the news you see. Saving lives with their colorful capes and their idealistic smiles… Even if you went to court nothing would happen, our influence reaches far more than you can even fathom.” My smooth voice as even as ever.

She was shaking now. Her body convulsing as her tears started to gather in her gag.

“Now I have to do something that hurts me more than it hurts you. You’ve done this to yourself really.”

I casually unhooked the holster that held my pistol and drew it. Loading a bullet in it as I talked.

“Though I guess I am some to blame… I’m not arrogant enough not to assume at least some of the fault. Maybe I’ve been too soft on you? I questioned her watching her shake her head quickly while she quacked with fear her eyes never leaving the pistol. I cocked the pistol, testing its weight in my hand and feeling the grip.

“I gave you wealth beyond what you could imagine, a safe place to stay, care for all your needs and you turned your back on me.”

Stepping for the first time closer to her until I was a foot’s length away.

“And for that, I am truly sorry,” I said putting emphasis on the truth.

Her cries muffled by the gag were a nuisance, she tried to move away but all she was doing was stalling the inevitable.

Quick as a whip, I bought the gun to her temple and pulled the trigger. I sighed staring at the gory mess before me. For those with it a heart it may have been broken by now. But for me, I just felt disappointed in myself for dating a woman so vile. I straightened my tie holstered my pistol and walked out the door as casual as ever. Mr. Jenkings stood waiting outside the door sweating slightly around the temple.

“It has been taken care of, let us take care of the more pressing matter at hand,” I said as I walked off to my office with Mr. Jenkings nipping at my heels.