The Restless Ones

I had been on my own for most of my life; my parents died shortly after my powers manifested. Oops. It wasn't long after that the Institution caught a whiff of my scent and has been on my ass ever since, and I am not the only one on their radar. I can remember being in grade school and watching classmates being dragged off, kicking and screaming, by big, scary men with big, scary guns. It shapes your personality. Having to witness your friends being dragged off like that in your formative years can even do some serious fucking damage. I am Elysia, and this is only part of my story.

I honestly don't sit and reflect on the past, but when you are stuck in your head as much as I am, you tend to try to trace your life back to the exact moment that the shit hit the fan. For me, it was on a cold ass winter day in the heart of New York City, I had been able to evade the Institution for years, and one dumb slip-up had me running down the street, slipping and sliding on the icy sidewalk as two big men charged at me full speed.

Now, I am fast, like inhumanly fast; it comes with my particular powers. Electricity, I have never truly tested the limits of my speed, partially because I am kind of a pussy about it. However, without proper traction. Well, you don't need a science lesson; I couldn't get enough of a footing to tap into my known potential. I caught a rough patch and ended up on my ass and promptly knocked the fuck out by goon one and goon two.

I opened my eyes with a lot of resistance, with a sore spot in my neck. Assholes had drugged me as if knocking my shit in wasn't enough for them. I honestly didn't blame them; I was a high-caliber threat level, and had I woken in their vehicle, I would not be in this bright-ass, white-washed room that smelled like bleach and Pine-Sol. I groaned as I shifted in the hospital-style bed, my movements impeded by the rubber straps secured around my wrists and ankles. I felt dizzy and nauseous, the remnants of my last meal creeping up my throat, burning to get out. I didn't want to vomit on myself, but the way I was being restrained prevented me from shifting to a position suitable for maximum avoidance, so I swallowed the bile down.

"Yuck," I whined, closing my eyes again to give myself a few extra moments to adjust to the bright fluorescent light. "Can someone please turn these bright ass lights out, fucking hell?" I wasn't entirely sure about whether or not I was alone, but given who held me captive, I was almost confident that I was being monitored by cameras with audio, at the very least. With a clicking sound, I could see through my eyelids that someone had granted me a small mercy.

"Elysia Harrison, you have been on our list for 17 successful evasions and ten years of avoidance. Electricity manipulation and super speed..." A female voice said over an intercom. I chuckled.

"Too scared of me to even come into the room? Even with me being tied up?" I laughed again, finally opening my eyes and settling them on the reflective two-sided mirror behind which the disembodied voice was hiding. I channeled my power a bit, and the lights flickered, but nothing else happened. Whatever they hit me with was fucking with my powers.

"Not scared, just cautious. A better safe than sorry situation, but judging from the energy spike in the room, you tried your powers and were unsuccessful." The intercom clicked off, and a door opened; I looked at the door as the bright ass lights came back on. "I am Dr. Warthrop, and for the foreseeable future, I will be your doctor."

"Oh, great, I have this slight tickle in my throat whenever I eat peanut butter. Do you think I am allergic?" I asked in sarcastically sweet tones. She laughed and came to my side in quick glides accentuated by the clicking of her expensive heels. I whistled. "Damn pays to be a professional kidnapper." I get a bit mouthy when I am waiting for the moment to fry the neurons in someone's brain.

I know what you are thinking: 'But Elysia, murder is wrong.' I don't care; I will do whatever I must to protect myself and those I love. At the moment, ‘those I love’ is a cute little redheaded girl named Ambrose with fire powers. I hope she didn't get caught in all this madness. I will kill them all if they have her; if not, I will try to keep the casualties to a minimum. Please remember that I said 'try' because I promise to whatever deity you worship that I honestly tried to keep my body count as low as possible.

We talked some more, the good doctor attempting to garner my trust and get me to slip up and talk about who I was with and where they possibly could have gone while I was being captured. If Ambrose stayed true to our emergency plan, she would be well on her way to Colorado. However, I knew that if it were her and not me, I would throw myself into this mess to get her back, and while she tended to be a little more level-headed than I was, she was most definitely still too close to this shit hole for me to get any sleep.

So, while Warthrop droned on and on about how this program is intended to take extraordinary people and help them control their powers and reintegrate into society, I smiled and gave her polite lies. All of what she was saying was bullshit; I have heard of so many people like me going missing and never being heard of again. Some of their parents surrendered out of fear, and some were taken out of the hospital the day they were born. Something about all of us abnormal humans being born at a ridiculously early gestation time and being fully formed is a common denominator.

After a few hours, I was allowed to be untied, being made aware that there were always loaded guns aimed at my head if I sneezed too aggressively. The good doctor said I had to stay in this room until all the assessments and initial health tests were made. Days that I spent pissing in cups and having my blood drawn and getting a general physical exam, the kinds they give you in school. The doctor said that, as expected, I was in perfect health, and she even commented on my muscle mass, saying that I had more bulk than most and that I must have been from warrior heritage.

My reflexes were way above average, and they even had a unique treadmill to increase my speed and see precisely how fast I could run. I broke it and almost reached the sound barrier. She wrote a lot down in a file, and when I was finally let out of the room, I went to section SS of their facility, indicating that I was a top-tier abnormal; I was the only one in the section aside from one other. A little girl peeked through a little window as I passed; she looked at me with a small, apologetic smile.

My room was set up to look like a little apartment. It was nice and void of any windows, even in the door. They were sucking up hard for my cooperation, and it made me want to leave even more. I fell into the overly soft bed with a huff, closing my eyes to take an assessment of my situation, when the good doctor waltzed in.

"Comfortable?" God, her voice was fucking grating on my nerves.

"Too comfortable," I replied sardonically, earning a look. Her good guy persona was crumbling fast, and the temptation to break it down was growing stronger. She sighed and started droning on and on with ‘schedule this’, ‘rules that’. She had yet to be successful in capturing my attention with whatever bullshit she was spewing.

"There will be combat trials every Tuesday and Friday to test your skills against others like you." That caught my attention, causing me to sit straighter on the bed. "Since you are an elite specimen, you will be introduced into these trials sooner than we usually allow. There are incentives to win." She noticed my sudden interest, today was Tuesday...

"Will I be starting today?" I asked with a little too much enthusiasm.

"Are you up to it?" My eagerness to participate pleased her, and that immediately robbed me of all the joy I might have derived from these combat trials. My face fell and grew thoughtful.

"Yeah, I'm game," I said in a flat, indifferent tone. You can say it's petty, but I just don't want to do anything that they want me to.

I take note of the number of turns we take, and even the two hulking guards that flank me. I note their body posture, the way they walk, and how the electricity feels in their bodies. Three lefts, one right, and straight past several turns, we are near where they first brought me. Still, the lack of windows makes it hard to orient myself, no sun to determine direction, and no concept of how far I am from the city. My thoughts drift to Ambrose. I am certain they don't have her; the good doctor would have found a way to taunt me about it. Eventually, we end up at an elevator. I take note of the floor we are on, floor 3, and how many floors there are, 10. Fuck me, how many people do they have here? Hulking guard one hits basement 3, and the elevator takes us down.

The elevator stops on the ground floor, and I feel the urge to bolt then and there. I wasn't restrained. But this felt like a setup. I peeked out and saw windows. We were facing west, and the city was nowhere to be seen. I logged it into my 'how to get the fuck back to Ambrose' manual as the doors closed. A new, older man steps into the elevator. He looks a lot like Dr Warthrop, and his lab coat declares that they do share the last name. I narrow my eyes as he rides with us down. He makes my instincts itch. I don't want this man anywhere near me.

The elevator opens up to a large gladiator-style pit, and as I look around, I see four other elevators open almost at the same time, and four more people escorted by their own hulking guards walk to the middle. The man who rode with us clears his throat.

"As most of you are aware, my name is Jethro Warthrop and I am the director of this facility. Today, we have a new subject, Elysia Harrison. Usually, you guys would have been introduced in some formal way at group therapy or meals, but Ms. Harrison shows real potential, so we fast-tracked her to combat." Fuck, he's going to make them think I am getting special treatment and paint me as a target. "Today's reward is a month off from tests."

Of course, those who have been here longer, and thus suffered through more tests, will feel especially bitter about me, a person so new that they have never even seen me before, being offered a month off from tests. Whatever that meant. Shit. Killing these kids would be especially bad; they were captured like I was. And my power wasn't exactly easy to control. I would have to refrain from wielding it altogether. But I was strong, and really, really, fucking fast. I could use that to my advantage. I didn't have more time for thoughts as the kids started rushing towards the middle. Fuck. I couldn't win, but I couldn't make them think I was weak either. A buzzer cut through my quiet contemplations, and I watched as the others took off to the middle of the ring. I looked at the director and chanced asking questions.

"So... What the fuck is this about?" I asked sharply.

"Language." That was the only reply I was given before guard one and two started pressing me forward with their bodies. I snarled but complied. I needed to lull them into letting their guard down, perhaps I should try after all? If I acted like the perfect prisoner, would that be more beneficial than making sure I had 'friends'? Would any of them even help with an escape? Or would they just be a fucking liability? They led me to a room where I waited to be paired up.

I didn't hesitate, but I still took a leisurely pace compared to the others. Another quirk about being, whatever the fuck I am, was that we could all feel each other when we got close enough, like we were some fucking hive mind. From conversations with the few others I met, I learned that the extent of information each of us gleaned from the other varied. For instance, I could tell everyone's ability and how strong they were, but not much else. There was a pyro here, and the thought had my heart clenching. Did they have Ambrose after all? I shook the thought from my head as quickly as it entered.

There was also some sort of Agrokinetic, someone who controls plants. I gave the vegetation around me a look; had that tree swayed a little too unnaturally? Ignoring that, I cast my awareness around further; the other two prisoners were a water controller and some sort of physical type. I could dispose of the water and plant types easily, the pyro would be a little of a challenge, but the physical types usually came with a shit load of damage resistance. Do I clear the board and win this shit? Or do I try and make, ugh—friends. The first fight was announced before I even finished that thought. Me. And some guy named Kael. Of course, the first one's the pyro.

I stepped into the ring and felt him immediately. Heat. Aggression. That kind of energy you only get from someone who’s been burning so long, they don’t realize they’re ashes inside. I read him in a heartbeat. He couldn’t say the same. He looked me up and down and smirked like a drunk at a bar. “My, you're a pretty one,” he said, taking a step closer. “Surprised you're in the combat circuit.” Typical.

He didn’t know what I was — not really. Probably thought I was some telekinetic or low-grade kinetic flash. I keep my aura dimmed, on purpose. Old habit. The Institution has bloodhounds who can sniff out power like perfume. No need to advertise. Kael could probably feel something — maybe the pressure in the air, the tension under my skin — but not enough to clock me properly. Good. Let him guess. Let him get confident. Because here’s the thing: I already knew what he was.

Before he even opened his mouth, I could feel the heat in his blood — not just literal, but the way it moved. Fast. Reckless. Like he didn’t care if it hurt him, too. A real “burn brighter, die faster” type. He grinned wider when I didn’t respond. That little spark of ego in his chest flared up like I’d fed it air. I didn’t smile back. I just stared at him. Sizing him up. Not physically — that part was easy — but the way his flame curled up and away from his arms, always in motion, always hungry. The kind of power that wasn’t just meant to hurt — it wanted to perform.

“Nothing to say?” he asked, tilting his head. I tilted mine the same way, mocking him. He didn’t like that. I could feel his fire coil tighter — pulling in toward his chest, heating up. He was about to make a move. Announce himself. Perfect.

Let the boy speak in fire. I’d answer in lightning. The floor hummed. Not from the fire. From me. But Kael didn’t know that. He thought I was frozen. Caught off guard. Maybe intimidated by the flames dancing up his forearms now, licking at the air like they were starving for oxygen.

“Shame,” he said, voice low and theatrical. “They’re gonna waste a face like yours. But hey—maybe if you beg, I’ll go easy on you.” There it was. The line. The males of whatever species I belonged to had egos as tall as the Eiffel Tower, and they usually swung it around more than their cocks.

The second he said it, I stopped holding back my presence. Just a little. A crackle rippled across the stone beneath me — soft, almost polite — but it made the air snap. Kael blinked. His smile twitched. He felt it.

“You talk too much,” I said flatly.

The intercom buzzed. The voice crackled overhead. “Begin.”

Kael didn’t wait. He raised both hands and launched a gout of fire like a cannon. The arena lit up gold and red, flames surging toward me in a wide arc, hot enough to turn the air sharp. But I was already gone. A pulse — not a blink, not a teleport. Just speed. Lightning in human skin. I moved faster than he could track. Behind him in half a breath.

My fingertips grazed the back of his neck. The current that surged into him wasn’t meant to kill — just remind. A sharp, stunning burst, clean and brutal. Enough voltage to knock a rhino on its ass. Kael convulsed. Dropped to one knee. Smoke curled from his collar. I stepped back. Let him feel that.

“Still want me to beg?” I asked, voice quiet.

He growled, rage flickering through him. Flames surged again — wild this time. No control. A wall of fire rose up between us, thick and choking. He disappeared behind it. Coward move. He’s stalling. Trying to reset, figure me out. Too late. I dashed through the edge of the flames — they licked at my coat, but I didn’t burn. The energy inside me vibrated outward, repelling the heat like static armor. He turned too slowly. I ducked under his wild swing, planted a palm against his chest, and let the lightning loose. Direct hit.

His body seized mid-air. Arched. Slammed backward into the wall of the arena with a bone-jarring crack. He slumped forward, smoking, twitching, still alive — but barely. Silence. Even the guards watching from the upper level were still. The cameras buzzed faintly. I stood over Kael, letting the hum of the storm inside me settle. My breath is steady. My expression was blank.

This wasn’t a victory. This wasn’t even a challenge.

It was a message.

To them.

I looked up at the tinted glass where the observers watched us. Made sure they saw me. Then turned and walked away from Kael’s body without looking back. The intercom snapped to life again.

“Trial complete. Victory: Subject E-11.”

They couldn’t even say my name. Pathetic. I didn’t want their stupid prize. One month without testing? A joke. An insult. All that would do was give me time to plan.