Psionic Academy

Chapter Sixteen: Following Adrian

Now Adrian knew it for real. Something was deeply wrong with him.

The blonde boy was curled into a fetal position, collapsed on the green grass of the Academy's fields. His near-white hair, normally smoothed back and immaculately combed and positioned into perfection with a generous helping of gel, was tangled and smeared with dirt.

His glacial blue irises were surrounded by masses of angry red capillary networks. The bloodshot scarlet that consumed his sclera only sharpened the wildness of his expression. His gelid eyes stabbed into the sky like icebergs.

The first spasm had come too fast for him to predict. He had seized and fallen to the ground, his arms and legs lashing, his face whiter than paper, his whole body writhing like a pale white maggot in the festering meat of a dead raccoon.

And then the seizing had stopped. And Adrian remained on the ground, breathing heavily, afraid.

Adrian had read about epilepsy before; a disorder that caused seizure after unprovoked seizure. But it was one of those things, one of those problems, that only humans were said to experience. 

Psionics had had the potential for seizures removed from their genetic code - the original epigeneticists had ensured that its genes would never be expressed, and that modification had since been passed onto future generations of Psionics.

What had just happened to him was very unnatural.

Eventually, Adrian stood. He felt deeply sick. 

Like he was going to puke. 

It was coming. Unmistakeably. He could tell that he was going to vomit, hugely and horribly.

Nausea clawed at his throat. He tried to force down the bile, but he couldn't fight his body. Chunks of partially digested food spewed out of his choking mouth. His stomach contracted violently, forcing everything up and out.

When there was nothing left, Adrian was drained and disgusted.

He was dimly aware of a growing disconnect between his mind and his body. His limbs were slow to cooperate with the demands of his brain. His emotions no longer felt compelling. Instead, they were weak and distant.

And that consumed him with a more pressing need. A voice inside his head, his voice, was whispering to him. Telling him, over and over, that something was deeply wrong with him. Something beyond simple illness. Something dangerous and sinister.

He didn't know exactly what, but he knew that he had to warn somebody.

He forced himself to regain control of his body. To move. To move in the right direction.

Walk forward.

One leg after the other.

A great weariness nibbled at the corners of his mind. He felt like his consciousness was fading. Soon, he would have no power over his thoughts or actions. He was slowly but surely submitting, giving up to his subconscious.

That thought flooded him with panic; it gave him a boost of emotion. It sharpened his perception, injected energy and compulsion into his system.

He knew that this newfound energy would not last long. He had to act quickly.

Adrian began to run.

Run towards the glade.

Run towards the hover-ships.

Already, he felt his grip on reality starting to slip. Distractions clawed at his determination, gnawing at his resolution. Voices called to him from the buildings and shadowy trees to his sides, from behind him, urging him to halt his forward path. Hallucinatory figures snaked through the periphery of his vision. 

He had to fight them.

So he envisioned Ava.

Ava.

Ava and her smiling face. How she beamed whenever she saw somebody.

Her waiting, impatient silence. The way the quiet itched her when she wanted to run off and play but was commanded by their parents to be noiseless and proper and in line.

Her playful attitude. Her easy laugh. The giggles that made him grin; the giggles that made his parents frown when guests were around. The giggles that tickled the most austere corners of their strict, silent household.

Ava, her spirit, her imagined presence - that was what pulled Adrian forward. That was what made him stay on his path.

He was nearing his destination. His hold on reality was dissipating, but he clung to anything he could sense.

He heard them, faintly. Noises were filling the air - the faint vibrations of conflict, growing gradually louder.

Adrian ran faster, towards the sound of the fighting. Towards Ava. 

His one and only Ava.