Anomaly [Undergoing Editing]

Chapter 7

Louis sat in the cold metal chair, with his wrists stinging as the handcuffs dug deeper into them. He was in a small, windowless room, sitting in front of a silver table and a short robust man whose hair matched the table in front of them. 

They were both staring intensely at each other, trying to figure the other out. Louis had been pinned down on the floor of his living room by three very large and very muscular men.

"Take him down! He's a terrorist!"

"I'm not a terrorist! I didn't do anything," Louis shouted in protest, though he wasn't heard in the slightest.

The men tackled him, making his head hit the ground with so much force it nearly knocked him out. A chorus of curses spilled out of Louis' mouth as he struggled underneath them.

"Come on, I'm not that big! I don't need all three of you on me!" Louis was punched, and slammed back on the ground again, making his brain rattle inside of his head. "Don't give me a concussion. I won't be able to answer your questions if you do that."

"Why won't you shut up!" One of the men shouted.

Louis allowed a smile to spread across his face. Clara often asked him the same question. He always answered with the same response: "Because I can't."

He was taken to a large truck, with two of the other people that were accused of being with the terrorist. They all claimed to be innocent. They all denied being American. They all were scared.

The Watchmen went around the city, picking up the rest of the suspects before closing the windows to the truck, not allowing the passengers to see where they were going.

"So," said Louis, trying to break the terrified silence burdening the car. "How many of you are actually American? I am!" he raised his hands, looking around for anybody to join him.

"Don't you know that'll get you killed?" One of them, a girl, hissed.

"Listen, I've been talking shit about this government for years, and they're not doing anything about it until now. And, they already know we're American. Well, except for you. You look Indian."

Louis pointed to a girl, with a long black braid going down her back and a equally long face to match. "I am."

"Great! What's your nam-" The front half of the car was being banged on, as the Watchmen told them to shut up. "Does anybody else really hate those guys?"

Everybody in the car turned to him with a very aggrivated look on their faces. "WILL YOU SHUT UP!"

Louis looked around the room for the third time. It was still boring and windowless. He noisily sighed, and turned back to the man.

"May I ask a question?" Louis said after an eternity of silence. "Why in the hell am I here?" 

However, the man said nothing. He just continued staring, making Louis groan and slump in his given chair. "Well if you won't tell me, can I go home? I have to wake up in the morning for work you know." 

Just then, Louis heard a door open behind him that he did not know was there. There were footsteps, that sounded like heels clicking against the floor. He tried to look behind him, but being cuffed to the chair made that nearly impossible. 

"Here is all of the information we found on him sir," he heard the woman say. She finally came into view, and he knew exactly who she was. 

She had the same black hair as he did, pinned up into a neat professional bun. Though her eyes were a darker shade of blue, they still reminded him of his times as a child.