Delmira: The Awakening

Come on Lenora. Duck, I think gritting my teeth, willing Lenora with everything I have to duck out of sight. Her auburn coils stand out against the grey of the surrounding concrete. Her steely blue eyes alert, scanning the edge of the looming metal warehouse in front of us. She jumps into action, gracefully dropping to the ground, her petite frame hidden behind the concrete K-rail in front of her, as the armed guard rounds the corner- . He pauses for a moment then continues. The harsh fluorescent light behind him casting sinister shadows onto the concrete beside me as he passes. I tuck myself closer into my temporary hideout of the dumpster, and lean my head back on its cool grimy surface. Its presence grounding as I count to five, both time his rounds, and calm my breathing. At five, I can’t help myself and sneak a glance. The guard doesn’t notice, His black gloved hand rests lazily on the M4b carbine slung on his front, accenting his SWAT grade full body armor and ballistic helmet. I duck back behind the dumpster before he sees me. A few more seconds pass, the chill of the night around me beginning to seep into my bones. Finally, I sense him move away, his shadow following him. I peek out from the side of the dumpster, locking gazes with Lenora who mouths an exasperated Phew! We both smile. I motion for her to stay put and make sure the coast is clear. Seeing no one, I run in a crouch to join her behind the k-rail. The dumpster smell, mixed with old tires and cigarette butts was becoming less tolerable by the second. The black asphalt crunches softly under my military boots as I stop next to her, ducking behind the barrier as well for good measure. I glance down at my watch, its dim blue face shining back. 2:33 AM “27 minutes to secure the hostage. First order of business is taking out the perimeter guards.” my hushed whisper piercing against the silent parking lot. “Leave that to me.” Lenora whispers smirking, beginning to stand. “Wait,” I grab her hand. She sinks back behind the barrier, annoyed. I’ve always been the cautious one; methodically weighing every possible danger or downfall before acting. Lenora on the other hand is always the first to fearlessly jump into any circumstance, something I’ve always admired but haven’t emulated. I usher energy from around me deep within my core. The familiar hum and warmth spreads through me and finds its way to my eyes, their glow casting a blue tint on my knees and the asphalt beneath me. I close my eyes and envision the warehouse beyond the K-rail, expanding my reach around the building, sensing for any signs of life. As my eyes open, I feel my power release, the glow on the asphalt dimming until only the stars and buildings fluorescents light up the asphalt. “I count two on the left guarding the door, and one around the right corner, headed this way to finish his rounds.” I smirk at Lenora. “Go get ‘em.”. She smiles coyly and stands up. “Remember,” I catch her, voice low-though it won’t matter if they hear us in a second, “Like we practiced. 45 seconds until rendezvous. 26 minutes, then it’s mission critical.” She gracefully vaults the barrier and turns towards me backing into the shadows on the side of the warehouse. “So we’ll finish in 20. 10 bucks this is my best time yet.” “You’re on!” I laugh. She winks and fades from sight, melting into the shadows. I smile, sinking back behind the barrier and press the button on the side of my watch, its cheerful beep signaling the start of the timer. 45 44 43 The first guard hits the pavement. 40 39 38 Two soft thuds accompany a muffled “Hey!”. 34 33 32 31 A high-pitched whistle flies from behind the left corner and I stop the timer. “Now that’s more like it.” I vault the barrier and round the corner. Lenora is standing between the two unconscious guards, a tan door to her back- no doubt what the guards were attempting to protect. “14 seconds. Your best yet. You called it.” I chuckle, glancing at the guards strewn on the ground, palming her a ten. “Told you so.” She says smugly, pocketing the folded bill. “Yeah, yeah.” I wave her off, kneeling in front of the door, brushing my gloved hand beneath the doorknob. Eyeing the lock in front of me, I slide my hand along the left edge of the door frame. “Looks like a boron carbide tubular lock.” I say reaching into the tactical pouch at my waist- what Lenora likes to call my ‘Stealthy-Spy-Fanny pack’ to such I always roll my eyes. At least I’m prepared! “Not impossible to pick- Not a walk in the park either.” I mumble to myself, pulling out my lock picks. “Kells-” “Nor, we had a deal! You get shotgun, I get to pick the lo- “ Kells.” “Nor it’s fine I’ve g-” “Kelley!” “What?!” She laughs and pushes on the door. It swings open beneath her hand, creaking slightly, revealing nothing but darkness on the other side. “Oh.” I stand. Guess I should have checked the right edge of the door frame… She laughs, shaking her head and steps forward towards the darkness. “Wait!” I put an arm in front of her. “Don’t you think it’s a little strange that they’d go through the trouble of tricking out the lock and having a perimeter patrol only to leave the door unlocked with two guards barely protecting it?” “You think it’s a trap?” She muses. “I think it’s suspicious at least.” She shrugs and nods, stepping back to give me space. I close my eyes, the familiar warmth of my powers reaching my eyes and hands. When I open my eyes, the first foot of darkness beyond cast in a dim blue light. I focus on probing outward, willing my ability to stretch into the dark. Gotcha. “Two on the left wall, both armed and merciless. One on the right wall- He’s nervous beyond belief so should be easy, I’d guess it’s a first timer. One hiding in the rafters- $10 says it’s a panther. Three in back and one- terrified- hostage.” My power snaps back towards me like a rubber band, the warmth and glow leaving my eyes with it. I reach into my ‘Spy-Fannypack’ and grab two flash-bangs, handing one to Nor. She takes them happily. Now she likes the Fanny pack. I shake my head and chuckle at her plain excitement at the sight of the flash-bangs. We may get confused for twins, her seemingly being my same age most of the time, but every once in a while our two-year age difference shows itself. At 16 and 18, we don’t have a normal teen idea for fun, both preferring a well-crafted knife or infiltration strategy to the newest iPhone or gossip. “They’ve set a trap in the dark so my guess is- “-They have night vision.” She finishes my sentence. “Precisely.” “Count of three?” She muses I nod. We both count off with our fingers - bracing either side of the door. Three Two One Synchronized and silent, we each throw a flash bang to the side. The satisfying bright white light and loud -Pop-Shoots off in the darkness, the distraction giving us both just enough time to slip in undetected while the guards reorient themselves. As I run towards the back, I see Lenora approach the guard closest to her, eyes a vibrant steely blue in the black of our surroundings. She steps from guard to guard, as if it were a dance, alternating between deflecting hits and whispering something to each - her hushed words leaving them each in an unconscious heap on the surrounding floor. She flies from fight to fight, smirking as she finds the newbie and quickly incapacitates them. I chuckle at the sight and continue running, using the darkness to mask my encroachment, though not as effectively as Lenora can. After a few seconds of sprinting, I reach the rear wall of the warehouse, calling upon my abilities again, willing the familiar warmth to my eyes, their glow dimly lighting the back wall. I’m greeted with a patchwork of metal scraps and pipes partitioning off the rear right corner of the wall, forming what I assume is a small room. No doubt where the hostage is. Greaaat I think to myself, They have a metalon I glance down at my side, regretting the metal Bowie knife in my right holster- its engraved blade and wooden handle contrasting my black tactical shirt and pants. Even worse are the metal bullets in the beretta M9A1 in my left holster… Should’ve stuck with the bow I scan the wall. A foot or so to my left there’s a door shaped opening within the twisted steel. I take a deep breath, fixating on the rise and fall of my chest, feeling my ribs expand and deflate, concentrating on the sensation to ground myself. I move my feet into a wider stance, distributing my weight evenly, hands open on either side of me. With an exhale I will grey mist of confusion out of my palms, imagining it filling the room and will it into the minds of the guards on the other side. When the mist is thick enough, I step into the makeshift room, willing the foggy confusion to thicken with each step. The guard to my right is holding their head in their hands, muttering to themselves. Looking pitiful despite the impressive getup they have. I spin to the left and spot two more very disoriented guards flanking the hostage in similar states. Each of them bear the SWAT grade tactical body armor, ballistic helmets and cloth balaclavas beneath their, helmets hiding their faces. They bear the same suit as the patrols out front, but with some alterations. The armor of the guard closest to me is adorned with various-sized shards of metal instead of the standard issue tactical belt and Beretta APX RDO the guards outfront sported. No doubt the metalon Each shard of metal is a deadly weapon in their grasp. I move swiftly, my elbow connecting with his temple, my opposite fist meeting his chin with an uppercut that sends him sprawling on his back. K / O. I almost feel bad, but get over it quickly as I swing around to the other guards. The guard to my left- who thankfully is unaware of my presence- is a tank, looming way over my head, Definitely over 6 feet. Although... Everyone is taller than me, seeing as I’m only 5’3”. On top of being built like a tank, I note that this guard only has on the black under-uniform that the other guards are wearing, and none of the Kevlar body armor or a thigh holster containing a gun. Instead of attempting to incapacitate him, I shift my attention to the hostage at his right. Her tear tracks are visible even at this distance through the slight grime accumulated on her face, her small stature emphasized as she kneels, rope binding her wrists and ankles. Though she is small, she looks only a year or two away from my age, her ashy blonde hair sticking out crazily from the braid that goes down to her shoulder blades. I quickly move to cut away her ties, hoping to leave with her before the guards shake off my attack of confusion, but I'm stopped by a tug in the back of my mind. Something is off. Suddenly, I sense someone in my head, their presence observing my every thought. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end as I’m being watched. The telepath creeps in and sifts through my memories, looking for any weakness. I look up from the ropes to the blank wall in front of me. I draw in a deep breath and close my eyes. As I exhale, I relax my mind, letting it fall blank, forcing them out. As I feel them slip out, I raise a wall around my thoughts. I whip around- locking eyes with the guard to the right. They are serene, their stance stoic and sure as if I’m not affecting them. I sense them inching around the barrier in my mind, trying to find a way in. I steady my breathing and heart-rate, reinforcing the barriers I’ve trained so hard to make. I notice they slowly move their hand towards their hip. As they do, I push my mind harder to be blank, slowly moving my hand towards my holster in response, though I suspect their Kevlar body armor may be bulletproof. The second they notice my movement, they grab their beretta with feverous speed; the barrel staring me straight in the face. Right as my fingers meet the rough handle of my handgun, I’m scooped up from behind- my feet dangling off the ground. The tank has awakened, no doubt the telepath’s doing. I thrash, but he holds me a foot off the ground,'his arms squeeze painfully as I feebly try to wriggle free. Throwing my foot backwards, I aim for his groin, but have no effect. While I squirm and fight as hard as I can, he just laughs- his voice rumbling in his chest against my back. His wrist and forearm, easily larger than my bicep, crush my ribs in as squeezes tighter like a boa constrictor ,eliciting a yelp from me. He’s gotta be a strongarm, otherwise he is a serious gym rat. He crushes me harder as if to confirm my theory. As I fight to catch my breath, I glance around and note a low hanging pipe near his head. As he tightens his grasp, razor-sharp pain pierces my side, a sickening c***k as a rib snaps beneath his grasp. I yelp pitifully in response. I go limp partially from pain, partially as a desperate ruse. The strongarm chuckles in victory, loosening his grip just enough. I inhale greedily, drinking in the air like water in a desert; wincing with the expansion of my lungs. With one last painful breathe I force as much shock behind me as I can muster, channeling the pain shooting from my side into the attack. A burst of metallic silver surrounds the strongarm’s head in a flash. His grip loosens more, enough that my hand by my side can reach my gun. I move my foot out and the way and fire through my holster, cramming more shock and dismay into his skull as I fire. With a sickening squelch, my bullet embeds in his foot. He drops me, and I roll out of the fall into a kneel, grabbing my gun. I train my gun on him as he stumbles backwards with his full weight, as if someone had slapped him. Before I have time to act, he collides head first with a pipe hanging down from the patchwork of metal composing the ceiling- knocking himself out. That works I smirk to myself, but the victory is cut short by the pain in my side. Still holding the gun in one hand, I brace my side with my other hand, attempting to dull some of the pain. I turn around, training my gun on the telepath guard. While I was dealing with the Strongarm she grabbed the captive, her barrel now nestled against the hostage's head, with her arm around the hostage’s throat, holding the human shield in place. They note my gun trained on them and push their gun into the hostages temple harder in response. The hostage flinches, her fear rippling off of her in navy waves of smoke. I break my stare for a second to look at the hostage, the sight of her making me catch my breath, my gun wavers for a split second. It’s Lenora. I blink a few times. It’s just an illusion I repeat in my mind. Forcing my mind and face blank, I rebuild my mental block as strongly as I can muster and lock eyes with the guard, gun steadier than before, but the shock of seeing Lenora dropped what mental block I had been holding- even if for just a second. It was all the time the Telepath needed to get in. She grins as her eyes glow a sea foam blue. I feel her presence enter my head, her eyes glow stronger with the new footing. She reaches into my mind like an eagle digging their talons into prey, clawing for weak spots. Suddenly I hear he , her voice rattling in my skull. It feels wrong. Drop it! They growl, Or I shoot! I push her back, attempting to force her out. But she presses on, Painfully attempting to perforate my mental block. My mouth twitches as I attempt to stay serene under the weight. The hostage shakes uncontrollably, her eyes wide as fear visibly rolls off of her. But the telepath is still as ever; Her face is a mask of controlled determination and power, dare I say with a hint of a smirk. I focus all of my energy on forcing paralyzing fear into her head. Thick navy smog, matching the hostages, drips around the gun in my hands onto the floor. It creeps its way to the guard, the black and lime of terror ribboning through the heavy smog as it pools around their feet. I will it forward with all that I have, my eyes and hands hot because of it. Everything tints blue as my eyes take on their familiar glow. But the smog stops an inch around the guard’s feet, like she put a wall up around themselves and the hostage. she c***s her head to the side, mildly amused. I hunt around her mind, searching for even the slightest c***k in her block. She returns the favor, locking us in a mental battle. She is powerful, able to fend off a surprise attack and extend her block to the Strongarm is a feat few can accomplish. I can sense her strength, every prod in my mental block sending a bead of sweat down my forehead as I force it to stay solid. As an Empath, I can do substantial damage messing with your emotions. Telepaths though, and one this powerful, they could turn you inside out. Make you into anything they please. Change everything about you, scrambling your brain in a matter of seconds. I shake off my dread and fixate on their barricade, Imagining it in front of me. I visualize tiny hairline cracks starting at its base. I feel the cracks, see their shape, and will them to appear. I press into them with all of my being, my brain aching with the effort. Slowly the cracks appear. I focus on them expanding, willing them to grow, imagining my thick smog of fear seeping through the cracks. They counter harder, trying to force me out of their mind and crush down on my own. The cracks dissipate, and suddenly I’m out- The weight of their presence heavy as lead in my mind. I summon a wall in my mind, tangibly envisioning it’s thick concrete. I hold firm with all the energy I can muster, pushing back as hard as possible. But it begins to be unbearable. I grit my teeth and sink down to my knees. I will not let them in. I can’t. I summon all the fear and terror I’ve ever felt and drive it down their throat like thick-hot blood. I picture it coating them, becoming a tar so thick they can’t move. The smog pours thicker from my hands and begins to climb the invisible block around them like ivy, encasing them in a prison of terror. My eyes become unbearably hot as they glow even brighter, but I don’t care and push further- a trickle of blood coming from my nose in response. Suddenly, a c***k appears in their invisible shield and the smog begins to pour into her bubble of protection, But the telepath reciprocates forcefully, punching holes in my mental block without warning as I rejoice that I got through. The second they do, a shrill scream encompasses my mind. It’s Lenora- Screaming in agony. I drop my gun and clutch my head, growling in pain. I have to go help her. I try to shake the scream from my head. It’s not real. It’s not real. The telepath grins at the havoc their reaping and makes the scream louder. I scream back in response, as if I could drown them out. A fourth guard slithers into the room silently, trapping both arms behind me. The scream stops, but it’s echo is ingrained, leaving me a breathless mess of nosebleed and cold sweat. The guard wrenches me to my feet. I glance at the hostage. Her face looks like her own again, her defeat palpable. It breaks my heart. I refuse to fail. With a yell I thrust my head back and try to pull my arm free but they duck out of the way and hold on tighter. As if in response, the room quickly drops in temperature causing my breath to fog in front of me. From the corner of my eye I see ice creep across the floor and up the walls, the miss-mash of metal carrying the cold temperature quickly. Sharp cold strikes up my wrist from the guard's hand, making me hiss in response. I glance over my shoulder, and am met with the pale blue eyes and white hair of a Frost. I try to actuate confusion or fear or anything to distract him but the cold intensifies up my arm and Lenora’s screaming resumes. I roar in pain. Her cries stop again, leaving me breathless- my nose bleeds more, a drop hitting the floor like a crimson tear. Each ragged breath sends shooting pain up my side. The Frost leans in and growls in my ear, “Don’t get any ideas.” I look up at the hostage. Sorrow in my eyes. The despair rolling off her in waves of black, accompanied by the amber waves of pride from the guards is all as crushing as the telepaths presence in my head. So much input. The frost begins to freeze my hands together in their traditional sick combination of handcuffs and torture. I maintain eye contact with the telepath the whole time. Gritting my teeth in pain, refusing to make a noise. The sweat running down the side of my face and my eyes flickering in and out the only visible sign of my agony, But I won’t give them the satisfaction of showing anymore. On my left near the door, I clock a flicker of movement in the shadows. The frost abruptly stops, and slumps to the floor behind me. I grin wildly as warmth races to my eyes. I will white hot rage to my hands, warming them enough to weaken the ice. My hands slip from the shackles as I look over- just in time to see the telepath slump to the ground, my sister standing above them. She, as always, sports confidence. Her tactical black getup and determined look are intimidating, a shadow of bruises forming around her right eye- complemented by a cut on her lip- furthering her rough-and-tumble facade. “Thanks.” I say glancing down at my slightly black wrists. “Ha! You’re welcome.” She laughs. We both snap our attention over to the right as the metalon guard begins to stir. Lenora gracefully and swiftly crosses over to them. As she nears the metalon fragments of metal from their vest begin to float, no doubt in defense. A few sharp shards whistle past her head, but she gracefully avoids them, and they embed in the metal behind her with a loud Chink Quickly moving to the guard, she clasps a hand on their shoulder and looks deep into their silver glowing eyes, hers a vivid glowing steele blue. She aggressively whispers “Sleep.” The shards around that were airborne clatter to the ground as the metalon falls deeply unconscious again. I grab my Bowie knife and head over to the hostage. As I near her, she begins to cower from me. “Shh, Shh, its ok,” I hold my hands up, “I’m just going to cut you free ok?” Eyes wide with fear, she slowly nods. I cross behind her and kneel down to cut the ropes around her wrists. As I do so I focus warm rays of happiness and the soft cream mist of comfort around the hostage. As the ropes fall, so does her fear. She visibly relaxes in response. I help her to her feet, letting her lean on me as she does, her weight emphasizing my injured side’s pain. But it’s my job, and she is visibly fragile, no doubt from the exhaustion of fighting back- the red rings of rope burn around her wrists confirming my theory. Lenora stands back up as well, smirking. “Good thing I was here to save your butt!” I shake my head, “Yeah, yeah. That telepath gave me a run for my money. And it seems you let one slip!” I say gesturing to the frost with my bowie knife. Their stark white hair standing out comically from our dark surroundings. “He slipped out as I was rounding up the others. Which I was able to handle by myself unlike some people.” She retaliates, grinning. I laugh and help the hostage forward, trying to hide my wince. The cream colored mist of comfort trails behind us as I keep it around the hostage. We walk out of the makeshift room back into the dark main space of the warehouse. It looks like a war zone, pockets of melted metal dot the walls. Clumps of flaming magma dimly lighting the dark room. We navigate the mess as quickly as the hostage’s fragile state will allow and make our way towards the door. On my left I see a perfect row of unconscious guards tied up and sitting against the wall. Their disheveled tactical garb comical as they all sleep, some drooling. Someone snores. “I see the guards were kind enough to line up?” I laugh, shaking my head at the sight. “Yes they were very helpful!” Lenora smirks. We finally make it to the large warehouse door, street lights faintly flooding in through the rim of the doorframe. Lenora pushes a red button on the wall beside it, The lights flickering on in response. We all turn around, backs to the door, surveying the room in the light. “Was I right about the panther in the rafters?” I muse. Lenora rolls her eyes fishing around in her pocket, “Dang. I was hoping you forgot!” She slaps the ten in my hand, “That’s him on the end.” She gestures to the guard closest to me. Like most panthers his jet black hair stands out among the rest. As the last light turns on. Gas floods the warehouse from vents on the floors- waking up the unconscious guards. The robotic voice of the computer chimes “Training simulation complete. Execution time 25 minutes 27 seconds.”