Beyond Control

Chapter 31

"Mother!"

I screamed. The echoes mimicked my voice and shouted it back once more.

My eyes opened wide and the bright lights brightened up my entire world. My chest was rising and falling at lightning's pace, making my breaths fast and short, as if my heart was going to explode at any time.

"My ears," I gasped as I sat up, pleased that I was able to hear again.

I looked at my surroundings as I felt a shiver running down my spine.

How the fuck did I survive that?

After all, I am still the mortal girl sitting in the cell of confinement, wearing the white oversized pajamas of the facility.

Perhaps I'm not mortal after all.

I raised my hands in a rush to check if my head had actually been crushed. I brushed my palms across my entire skull, carefully and gently ensuring that I'm not pressing onto any wounds.

But there was no sign of my head being hit by a heavy metal weapon at all.

I checked my limbs after that, my hands rushing to raise up the new and clean clothes they'd put me into.

Thankfully, the scars on my limbs justified that I am still the same person as I am before. I am still Crystal Anderson, who's been locked in this cell since forever.

At first, I'd thought that I was living in a dream, but as soon as I browsed through all the wounds on my body, I knew that it wasn't.

However, I didn't believe that those wounds can be healed even with the best methods and medicine in the world, since I knew for sure that they are in such conditions that it's never going to get stitched up again.

When I was done differentiating between a dream and reality, I pushed myself to my feet.

I'd anticipated there to be pain, effects of that ordeal, but there was none. I was walking so nonchalantly and normally as if my limbs hadn't been hit and cut before.

I peeked through the observation room, subtly scanning the room for any clues of what date it is, and hoping to receive some information on my current condition.

The room wasn't as empty and organized as before, it wasn't as dull as an unused room as before. The observation room's desks were now covered with stacks of papers and document files.

I brought my face closer to the window, till my forehead was pressing on the glass. I squinted my eyes and tried to scan the words written on the papers.

There were paragraph after paragraphs which described my health. I found nothing useful in those health reports other than perceiving how fast my wounds heal.

When I switched to the other document, whose title had been covered by another one of the thickening files stacked on top of it, I stumbled upon words which I couldn't quite understand.

I skipped through a few paragraphs which I assumed to have no content worthy of my time, till I came across a sentence which captivated me drastically.

Subject's control over hemokinesis is strongest.

As I continued down to the next paragraph, something interrupted me.

"Crystal," a soft and familiar voice.

I felt my heart jump, my back bone frozen for a second. I revolved around in a panicky way, my heart bracing for the next few moments, anticipating that voice to just be a hallucination. My legs moved reluctantly as if the wounds hadn't healed properly.