Theia
I sat in the cold hard chair, my head on my arms, which were handcuffed to the table. I didn’t know how long I had been sitting here, but the room felt cold and dank and it had long since seeped into my bones. I felt exhausted, cold, and hungry. My head was pounding and the stench from the bucket of vomit next to me was only making my nausea so much worse.
Over the past several hours, I had received visits from different stern looking people. Some asking questions, and the same questions over and over. What type of supernatural was I? Who did I work for? What was my plan? How did I get my information? I answered them all the same. I’m a human. I don’t work for anyone. I don’t have a plan. And I really don’t know how the visions or dreams work.
Then some came in and prodded and po
