Naomi's cell was cold, damp, suffocatingly small.
She had spent what must have been hours trapped in the dark, her mind spinning with flashes of memories she couldn't fully grasp.
She had been alone.
Until now.
The sound of boots against stone echoed through the corridor outside, followed by low laughter. Naomi tensed. She knew who it was before she even saw him.
Roe.
The metal door groaned open, letting in the flickering glow of lantern light. He stepped inside, flanked by two of his men, one broad-shouldered with scarred paws, the other lean with cold, hollow eyes.
Roe took his time, scanning the small, grimy space like he was inspecting a new piece of property.
Then, he smiled.
"What a fine little thing we've got here."
Naomi didn't move, pressing her hands into her lap to keep them from shaking.
Roe's eyes glinted with amusement as he turned to his men. "You see the fight earlier, boys? The new recruit? Hell of a show, yeah?"
Naomi stayed silent. She didn't know who he was talking about, and she didn't care.
Roe continued, his grin widening. "Never seen a fella move like that before. Took down a man twice his size and didn't even break a sweat! Hell, even after he crushed that poor bastard's leg, he just stood there, cool as ice." Roe pounded his foot on the ground a few times comically before he continued "Then he decided to fight two guys at one, blood everywhere and even begged me to shoot the poor sods in the head after to put em outta their misery."
Naomi's stomach twisted, but she forced herself to remain still.
Roe wanted a reaction.
He stepped closer to the bars, tilting his head. "C'mon now, love, don't be rude. You were locked up in here all alone while the rest of us were having a grand ol' time. Blood, sweat, screaming, it was a real beauty."
Naomi didn't speak.
Roe's grin widened. He liked the silence. It gave him more to fill. If there was one thing Roe loved more than control and power it was his own voice.
"Enough about all that, dearie." He reached into his coat, pulling something free. "I got you a pretty necklace."
The collar gleamed under the dim light, its metal frame embedded with vials of shimmering blue liquid.
Naomi's stomach dropped.
She recognized that substance.
The same blue chemical that had stolen her power before.
The sight of it made her chest tighten with something raw, instinctual—fear.
Roe sighed dramatically, running his fingers along the collar's edge.
"Y'know, I had the ol' boss put somethin' together for me," he mused, almost like he was admiring fine jewelry.
Then, he grinned.
"See, if you get outta line, this puts you down right quick."
He turned the small remote in his hand, thumb resting lazily over a single button.
Naomi's breath caught.
"So, let's test it out, why don't we?"
Roe snapped his fingers.
The two guards stepped forward, unlocking the cell door.
Naomi moved instantly, twisting away, her body fighting on instinct.
She didn't get far.
A fist slammed into her ribs, knocking the air from her lungs. One of the men grabbed her wrists, twisting them behind her back, while the other forced her head forward.
The collar was cold against her throat.
Naomi struggled, but the click of a gun hammer cocking back made her freeze.
Roe stood there, sidearm casually aimed at her temple.
His expression was almost bored.
"That's enough, sweetheart."
Naomi's chest heaved as the guards tightened the clasp around her neck.
A soft hiss filled the air as the blue liquid swirled inside the vials—active, waiting.
Roe tilted his head.
"There we go. That's a good look on you."
Roe twirled the remote in his hand, then gestured with his pistol for Naomi to step forward.
She hesitated.
"See, love, this collar ain't just a leash," he sneered, "It keeps your little tricks on a short tether, dormant enough that I ain't gotta worry about you scrambling my brains, but still there for when I need you to play nice." He turned the remote between his fingers, his grin widening. "Now, let's see what you can do."
The collar hummed faintly against her skin, like it was waiting for an excuse to activate.
Roe's voice dropped to a mocking whisper.
"Don't keep me waiting. I'd hate to waste such a fine little trick."
Naomi's stomach churned as she stepped out of the cage.
Roe spread his arms like a proud showman. "Aww, isn't she beautiful, boys?"
The two guards chuckled, their gazes lingering on her like she wasn't even a person anymore.
Then, Roe turned, pointing his gun between the two men.
"Now, girly." His grin stretched wide and sharp.
"One of these two lunks decided to steal some of me product."
The room went still.
Naomi's stomach twisted.
"I think you can help me find out who."
The guard on the left stiffened.
The guard on the right swallowed hard.
Naomi felt the power stir inside her, even through the chemical suppression.
She didn't have a choice.
Her fingers tightened at her sides, her mind pushing into theirs, not aggressively, just enough to unravel their defenses.
She felt it, the hesitation, the guilt, a creeping realization settled in her chest, they had both stolen from Roe but one was just a little more afraid than the other. A little more desperate to hide it.
Naomi thought quickly. If she could at least save one of them, it was better than both dying.
Her voice was hoarse when she spoke.
"Him."
She lifted her chin, staring at the guilt-stricken guard.
Roe whistled low. "Neat parlor trick, eh boys?"
The accused man's breathing grew shallow, his eyes darting between Roe and Naomi like a trapped animal.
Naomi clenched her teeth, fighting against the command, trying to push back.
A sharp shock ripped through her body. The collar hummed violently, sending searing pain through her nerves.
She gasped, legs giving out for a brief second before she caught herself.
Roe smirked. "Ah, there she is."
And then, in a voice as cold as death, he said.
"You wanna live girl? Than make him die."
The remaining guard slowly raised his weapon.
The guilty man started shaking.
Naomi had no way out.
No way to fight.
And so, she did as she was told.
She reached into the guilty man's mind, and she forced him to pull the trigger.
The gunshot ripped through the air, louder than anything Naomi had ever heard. She flinched, her knees giving out beneath her as the weight of what she had done settled into her chest like a stone.
She sank to the floor, her body trembling, breath hitching as the reality of it crashed down on her. The guilt, the horror, the sheer helplessness of it all, it was too much. A sob ripped from her throat, then another. She buried her face in her hands, shoulders shaking as the tears came, hot and unrelenting.
The room blurred around her, her vision drowned in tears—
Then, another gunshot.
Naomi jerked violently, heart slamming against her ribs as the sound thundered through her skull. Her breath hitched, panic clawing up her throat as she instinctively pressed herself against the cold stone wall.
She wiped at her eyes hastily, vision swimming, and when she finally managed to focus, she saw it.
The other guard. Dead.
Roe flourished his sidearm, spinning it lazily before sliding it back into its holster. He took his time walking toward her, the sound of his boots scraping against the blood-slicked floor. When he reached her, he crouched down, resting an elbow lazily against his knee.
Naomi refused to look at him.
Apparently Roe had known, had come into this room with the express intent of having both of these men killed, whether it was caused by Naomi's ability or not didn't matter to Roe. Something was reinforced in Naomi's mind at this point, something that she had known but now felt more like law. Roe is always looking to get a reaction out of someone.
He leaned in close right next to Naomi, moving her hair out of her face in an attempt to force her scars to be visible, voice dropping to a slow, quiet threat.
"Don't you ever fucking lie to me again."
Roe stood, stretching his shoulders before adjusting his coat. He glanced back at Naomi, her body curled in on itself, her shoulders shaking from the weight of what had just happened. A slow smirk curled at the edge of his lips.
"C'mon, love, don't go soft on me now. You're just gettin' started," he cooed mockingly, stepping closer. He crouched down again, reaching out to wipe a tear off her cheek with his thumb. "Ah, there we go. Ain't nothin' to cry about. You did good. Real good."
He patted her cheek condescendingly, the touch lingering just long enough to make her skin crawl. He turned toward the door, taking a slow step forward before pausing, throwing a glance back over his shoulder.
"At least I'm leaving you with some company." His voice was dripping with mock sympathy. "Don't worry Sweetheart, I'll be back soon."
With that, he strode out, his boots echoing in the now silent room. He paused at the door, throwing one last glance over his shoulder.
"That was just a warm-up. You and me? We're gonna do great things together."
Then he was gone.
Naomi sat there, trembling, her breath shallow and uneven. The two bodies lay where they had fallen, blood seeping into the cracks of the stone floor. The air was thick with the iron scent, suffocating her.
Her vision swam. She couldn't think, couldn't process what had just happened. Her body acted on instinct alone, driven by the need for distance, for some kind of barrier between her and the horrors staining the ground.
With shaking hands, Naomi crawled back into the cage, the very place she had fought so desperately to escape from. She pulled the door shut behind her, not bothering to lock it. It wasn't security she needed. It was separation.
She curled against the wall, knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped around herself in a fragile embrace. The cage was small, cold, but it was hers, a thin, desperate illusion of privacy in a world that had just shown her she had none.
She squeezed her eyes shut, but the bodies were still there, waiting behind her eyelids. The scent of blood still clung to the air.
And she was still trapped.
She squeezed her eyes shut, her breathing shaky as she tried to escape within her own mind. Anywhere but here. Anywhere but this room, these walls, these bodies.
Eli.
She thought of him, not as the lifeless form she had cared for over the last seven months, but as she was now starting to remember him. His warmth, the soft scent of his fur, the way he used to grin at her with that easy confidence that made the world feel lighter. She missed it. She missed him.
Her fingers curled against the cold floor. If she closed her eyes hard enough, maybe she could be somewhere else. Maybe she could feel the brush of his fur against her fingertips, hear his voice instead of the deafening silence.
A sob caught in her throat, but she forced it down. She couldn't break, not completely. Not yet.
Still, when the whisper left her lips, it was barely a breath.
"Eli..."