Chapter One

Alia Walker believed she was completely and utterly normal, just like everyone else around her. In the city of Harper Butte, Oregon, that was all everyone was. Normal. Usual. Sure, they were all unique in their own ways, but no one was special. They were all human; all normal.

    Alia grew up believing she was normal. She had normal parents, normal friends, normal family, and normal classmates. The most eventful thing that had happened to her in her life was falling out of her treehouse and breaking her leg at age seven. That was it. Nothing else. She’d admit almost on the daily that it sure was boring that nothing happened in her life. She loved reading books about people having superpowers, like super-strength or super-speed. Those were cool. Those people were legends---if they were real, that is.

    But this day, the fifteenth of October, 2016, things were different. Alia just didn’t know it yet.

    The day started off completely normal, with Alia going to school and hanging out with her friends. They talked about the normal things, like boys, a new sale at the mall, and comic books, as they usually did. They walked to class together, as they usually did. They squealed over Joshua Laurent---the school’s designated hot guy---as they usually did. It wasn’t during then that the peculiar thing happened.

    Oh no, it wasn’t until later in the day that it happened. Alia and her two friends, Sahara and Ambrose, were filing out of the bus onto Acre Fields, the pumpkin patch the school went to every year for apple cider and pumpkins. Sahara was chatting animatedly about her boyfriend, Jackson Andre---whose name sounded like stereotypical bad boy to Alia---while Ambrose giggled along with her. Alia, on the other hand, was slightly spaced out, thinking about something she did often---Haylie Martok.

    Haylie was somewhat of a popular girl, though she wasn’t really. Her life thrived around gossip, secrets, and lies. Long black hair and bright green eyes, she got whatever she wanted by spreading lies. Haylie especially loved spreading rumors and lies about Alia. Once in eighth grade, Haylie told everyone that Alia was an exchange student from some unknown country and that was why she was “so dumb”. Unfortunately, the kids all believed her and for an entire month acted as if she was foreign and stupid.

    Today, the dark-haired girl was whispering to her friends about something Alia couldn’t hear, though it was clear it was about her. Emerald eyes were trained on the girl, watching her intently as she whispered excitedly. Her lips were curved upward in a coy smirk, moving quickly.

    Alia’s own blue eyes felt as if they were warming up with anger, she felt like they were glowing. Then her entire face felt warm. Then her neck, shoulders, arms, fingertips, all the way down to her toes. Her entire body was tingling with warmth, and every hair on her body felt as if it were standing on end. But the girl’s eyes didn’t leave Haylie’s even once. She wasn’t even blinking. Alia was completely focused on her anger for the girl. Her mind began to drift, only focused on anger. She was tuned out from the world and everything around her.

    A scream suddenly rang out, coming from Sahara. Then another. Ambrose. Then another. Soon, nearly everyone was screaming and running from the field. Alia snapped out of her trancelike state, her eyebrows furrowing. Why was everyone running? Slowly, she turned around. A whimper escaped her lips at the sudden scene before her.

    Both of the school buses and all of the chaperone cars in the field were levitating in mid-air, right before her very eyes. They seemed to circle the girl, floating as if they weighed not a thing. Alia suddenly found that she was past the point of screaming. Her body was filled with warmth, but it was as if her legs were rooted to the spot, unable to walk away, or run. Thoughts raced through her mind at high speed, mostly of fear. What was she going to do? Were these buses and cars going to flatten her? Why were they even floating like this?

    A few minutes later, Alia felt ice rush through her body. She shivered, then felt a warm substance trickle down her nose. Touching a single hand to just below her nostrils, she came away with bloody fingers. It was then that she felt dizzy, head spinning around and around. Her vision grew blurry, with black spots and fuzzy shapes dancing across her eyes. Alia swayed on her feet, dazed, before collapsing.

    Bright lights and a spinning ceiling fan greeted Alia as she woke. The dizziness had gone, but it was replaced by a grogginess. Where was she? What had happened?

    Then she remembered. The buses and chaperone cars at Acre Fields had floated. And not the kind of floated like over a rushing river, but the kind that birds could accomplish. Flying. It sounded crazy even now in Alia’s head. Flying vehicles sounded ridiculous. Impossible.

    She heaved a sigh, sitting up slowly. Nearly immediately her head spun at a furious speed, making her flop back down on the bed she was on. From what she could see, she was in some sort of hospital room, though there was no medical instruments. In fact, the only objects inside the room were the counter beside her bed, a small table, and two chairs. All were a pristine white color with absolutely no visible dust on top.

    “Hello?” She called, glancing around from where she lay. No response. Alia slowly attempted to sit up again, at a gradual pace, and this time the spinning didn’t happen. Sighing in relief, the blonde sat up fully on the side of the bed, wringing her hands.

    So there was no one there in the room to help her, and nothing to help her get out. Alia didn’t even see a door to help her escape.

    Her mind drifted to the events of earlier in the day. Why had she felt so dizzy? Why had the cars levitated like that? Was something going on?

☘

    Alexandra Kace--or Alex, as she preferred--lived in sunny California. Los Angeles, to be exact. She was popular, kind, good-looking, and just plain perfect. And everyone adored her. She was the best singer and dancer of her grade--and possibly even her school. Alex even had a boyfriend named Quentin, nicknamed Q. They’d go out on cute dates to the movies or to ice cream, and had nearly every class together.

    But none of that was real.

    In reality, Alex was a mean, rude, intolerable person. She was snarky, harsh, and selfish. The reason why no one saw this was simply because they didn’t see it. They all saw this amazing person--someone they wanted to do things for. They pretty much bowed beneath her feet. And she adored it.

    It was like living in a fairytale. Everyone loved her and did as told. Nothing went wrong for her. It was just plain perfect.

    October fifteenth, 2016. That was the day things changed.

    Alex was in her room, getting ready for the day. This was the one thing she did herself--get ready. She hated it when others helped her with putting on clothes or makeup, she simply preferred to get it done herself. No one else knew how she liked it, anyway.

    She was on the last stroke of mascara when she noted the crowd outside of her window, all knelt on one knee. Her perfect eyebrows furrowed. What were these people doing out here? She certainly hadn’t ordered them to do this. Closing the mascara and putting it away, Alex thudded down the stairs and flung open the front door. There they all were: people of many ethnicities, ages, and looks, all knelt on one knee as if they were making a marriage proposal, their heads bowed.

    “Stand and tell me what you are doing,” Alex commanded harshly, her arms crossed over her chest. Her brown curls bounced slightly with the motion, and her brown eyes swept the crowd.

    They all stood, and simultaneously said, “We are bowing to our leader, mistress.” Alex’s eyebrow cocked. Mistress? She’d never heard that one before. And she certainly had never heard of this ridiculous command.

    “Well, don’t do that anymore,” she snapped.

    “Yes, mistress,” they chimed. Their words just angered Alex. They weren’t following orders. She hadn’t told them to call her ‘mistress’. She hadn’t told them to bow to her. She hadn’t told them to be brainless like this. She hadn’t told them to do everything at exactly the same time.

    A sudden furious warmth filled Alex--she was way past angry at them now. They were being ridiculous. She hadn’t told them to do any of this and she hated it all. She wanted them to die.

    Her gaze flitted around the street. Nice sidewalks, neatly trimmed, bright green trees, the faint glow of streetlights illuminating the dark early morning sky--there it was. A stack of fallen tree branches sitting on the ground, cut from trees just the night before. Alex’s lips curved upward into a smile, and she pointed to the pile. “Those. Beat each other to death with those.”

    The crowd nodded, stating the usual, “Yes, mistress,” and moved in unison toward the pile. Each person grabbed a branch, and once everyone had one, they broke out of their unamity, becoming a massive frenzy as they proceeded to harshly beat each other with their branches. Alex watched in amusement as they fought, each person fighting for their lives. Swing, hit. Swing, hit. One by one, they dropped to their deaths, until only a  man was left standing, glancing around.

    “Beat yourself to death,” Alex commanded, and he nodded, chiming his response before beating himself in the head, over and over. Blood spattered all around as he bashed his head in at last, before collapsing, lifeless.

    Seeing his eyes, empty, glassed-over and lifeless, made Alex realize what she had just done. She had just commanded a group of people to kill themselves! Did that even count as murder? Shock was set on her face, as if she had always been shocked. Her body was frozen stiff.

    And then suddenly, a cold shiver ran through Alex. She shuddered, trying to warm up by rubbing her arms, before she felt something drip down from her nose. A drop of red hit the ground, and another landed on her shirt. She cussed, before realizing it was coming from her nose. Touching a hand to her nose, she came away with bloody fingers. Upon seeing the blood, Alex felt dizzy, stumbling a few steps before she passed out.

    She woke in a room completely white, with barely any furniture in it. She sat up, ignoring the horribly dizzy feeling it was giving her. “Well, this room is ugly,” she remarked, shuddering in disgust. “I mean, come on. If you’re going to kidnap me or something, at least use style in the room you’re keeping me in.” Her volume rose, as she was trying to draw out her captor. That was the conclusion she’d come to--she’d been drugged and kidnapped. Her captor had drugged her glass of water she left by her bed, and had taken her from her room.  

    “Hello?” She called, huffing and crossing her arms, the dizziness finally clearing. She gazed around the whitewashed room, trying to find out where exactly she was. It was annoying Alex, that she hadn’t told anyone to do this, to take her away. This was just getting plain ridiculous. Her day was going horrible and all she wanted was things to go back in order. But no, she just had to get herself abducted. This was all on her. Her choices. Life wasn’t fair, no matter how hard she tried to prove the opposite.

🌙

    Nine remembered nothing of her life before. She couldn’t remember being a child. She couldn’t remember being a toddler. She couldn’t remember her parents. She couldn’t remember any family. All that she remembered was that she was in here, the Facility. And she was an experiment.

    She vaguely remembered the other experiments. They were all female, and named One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, and Eight. She barely remembered them, as One, Four, and Seven had died early on in Nine’s memories. The rest of the girls had slowly died, one by one as the years progressed. And just last year, only Six had been left.

    Nine remembered Six as being a sweet girl. She had taught Nine many things about life, like how to write, how to speak, and other things Nine had never heard of before, like dancing and singing. She’d told Nine that her singing was good, but her dancing needed some work. They’d only done so at night, when the doctors told them they had to go to bed. At first, Nine wondered why it was like this, so secret. But then she learned why: the doctors hated it when the girls learned anything creative. It wasn’t part of their experiment, and it was most definitely not encouraged.

    Nine still remembered the day when she discovered age. She’d been standing at the bathroom mirror for the first time in years, and was gaping in surprise at herself.         

Since she’d last looked, she had longer hair, and her eyes were a vibrant green, brighter than before. She was most definitely taller than before, and thinner. She reached out at the mirror, her fingers grazing the cold glass gently. Her emerald eyes were widened, round circles in her shock. Why did she look so different? What was wrong with her? Did she become a completely different person?

    “You’ve simply aged, Nine.” Nine jumped as she heard Six’s voice. The girl came up beside her, her bright red hair tied up into a ponytail--at least, that’s what Six called it--and her blue eyes shining.

“A-Aged? What does that mean?” She was confused. Was that another one of Six’s creative words? She’d already taught her so many. ‘Dance’, ‘song’, ‘smile’, that sort of thing.

“When you age, you get older. You were first a baby, then a little toddler, then a child, and now a teenager. As the years go by, you age. In a really long time, you’ll get grey hair, and then white hair. And then you’ll die. We all do.”

“What if I don’t want to die?” Nine’s voice was soft, fearful. She’d heard of death before--it happened to the other girls. They’d all died. Nine remembered hearing their screams, late at night. She remembered cowering on her cot, trying to block out the screams.

“We all do,” Six replied, her hands on Nine’s shoulders. “But you’ll die in a very, very long time. I know you will.”

Nine curled up on her cot, letting out a shaking breath. She missed Six, the only person who cared about her more than anything else in the world, but Six was dead. Gone. Unable to come back.

“Nine,” the rough voice of The Doctor came a-shouting as he entered, his footfalls going clunk, clunk against the linoleum. “It is food time.” His voice was thickly accented, something from some exotic country in Europe. Accented. A word Six had taught her. Nine shook away the thought, looking up at The Doctor.

The Doctor was a gruff old man, with salt-and-pepper hair and chocolate eyes. Of course, there were other doctors at the Facility, but his name was The Doctor. According to another doctor Nine had asked, his birth name was actually Dr. Thesar Doctor, also known as Dr. The Doctor. He bossed everyone around at the Facility, and made sure things were in order.

Nine nodded her head, red curls bouncing as she rose to her feet. All nine girls had had red hair, some sort of recessive gene between them. The Doctor led her out of the room, and down the sterile, white hall. As she passed the doors, she looked curiously through the viewing glasses of each one. She saw newcomers, peculiarly, though there were only two and they were in separate rooms. From the brief glance Nine got, she could tell that they’d just woken up, as they were both looking around with expressions consisting of shock and fear.  Poor girls, Nine thought. They didn’t even know what they were getting into.

The Doctor and Nine entered a small lunchroom, as sterile and whitewashed as the rest of the Facility. It only had one lunch table that was shaped like a circle, with four chairs pulled up to it. This was strange because before, there were only two chairs, one for Nine and one for The Doctor. But now, there was twice the amount.

Nine sat down in her seat gingerly, and The Doctor sat down in his. “Bring them in,” he told the guards nearby, and they nodded, leaving the room. “Now, Nine.” He turned back to face her with a smile that sent shivers down her spine. “It’s time to eat.” Waving a hand, he nodded at the two cafeteria ladies, who brought in two trays of food, setting one before Nine and one before The Doctor.

Nine gazed down at her food; this time it was somehow different. Instead of the usual soup composed of carrot, chicken, and chicken broth, it consisted of a T-bone steak, mashed potatoes, and a glass of milk. She’d seen these foods before, as Six had been able to sneak into the kitchen to get them both some of The Doctor’s food. This was the kind of food he ate, as well as the guards and the cafeteria ladies. She’d always been told her and her sisters ate different food than the others because they were special, but why did Nine have the same food as the others now? “Why is my food different?” She asked, her tone gentle and soft.

“Because today is a special day,” he replied, tilting his head to the side a bit. “Today is your Test.” Nine gasped. She’d heard that sentence before. “Test” was just a word used to mask what was really  going to happen. The Doctor had used that term toward the other girls--before he’d killed them.

Chapter Two

    Alia had been in her room for what seemed like hours--or perhaps days--before two burly men identical in appearance entered her room. They both wore the white garb of hospital guards, and had the same brown crew cut hair. Their facial hair was even exactly the same, down to how chiseled their jaws were. With a gasp, the blonde stood, taking steps back as the twin men advanced on her. Her gaze flitted nervously around the room, looking for a way out, until it was too late. Both men grabbed her with rough hands, dragging her out of the room.

    She was dragged into a completely white room with a single table in the center of it, with two people seated in two of the four chairs. Alia struggled against the guards, grunting. “Let me go!” She shouted, before she met the eyes of one of the guards, a brilliant shade of blue, and she felt relaxed. She went quiet, calm, and they led her toward the table, sitting her down in one of the chairs.  She gazed at the other two people, an old man and a girl perhaps no older than Alia herself.

    The man had black hair dusted with grey and white, and a crisp dark blue suit. He looked as if he didn’t belong in this sterile room, instead belonging in a bank or a fancy business building.  He had a cold smile on his face, one void of actual care or happiness.

    The girl, on the other hand, had bright red hair--like Pippi Longstocking red--and green eyes that shone like gemstones. She wore a white babydoll dress that was loose on her body, almost like the clothes of a hospital patient. The young girl looked worried though interested, as if she wanted to know more about Alia. Her head was tilted to the side, her eyes directly on Alia.

    Alia shifted, a bit uncomfortably as she looked down at the table. She didn’t want to be here; she just wanted to be home. She wanted to be with Ambrose and Sahara, she wanted to be with her mother and father, her little brother. This place made Alia uneasy, and even a little bit fearful. This was not a place she was familiar with, not a place she liked. This wasn’t fun to her. She wanted things to return to normal.

    Soon after Alia had been seated, two more guards entered, dragging along a girl whose eyes were covered. This girl’s hair was a chocolate brown, set in waves that fell over her shoulders and down her back. She was letting out strings of cuss words, struggling immensely against the two men as they forcefully sat her down in the chair, taking the blindfold off of her eyes. She blinked several times, regaining her focus of her surroundings before scowling unhappily. “You didn’t need to blindfold me,” she spat in a cold tone.

    “It was for your own good, Alexandra,” the man in the suit told her, his cold smile still on his face as he turned toward the brunette apparently named Alexandra. “We wanted you to be as safe as possible.”

    Alia merely watched as Alexandra argued with the man, and the girl cowered in her seat, covering her ears. Alia was unsure of what to think of this situation. Many, many questions swirled in a flurry through her mind, making it hard to do much else than listen and watch. Alexandra’s voice grew in volume, louder and louder, until she was screaming. No words, just a deafening shriek that made the room shake.

    “Alexandra, calm down!” The man shouted, clapping his hands over his ears. Alia covered her own ears, while the redheaded girl merely sat there, shaking a little in fear. Alexandra kept up the ear-splitting screech for a few more minutes, before she was grabbed by the same guards that had hauled her in, and a gag was shoved into her mouth. She was then dragged away.

    “What was that?” The girl asked the man, her green eyes wide.

    “That, my dear Nine, was a siren’s scream.”

    After a meal consisting of food Alia favorited, she was taken to another white-washed room. Wondering if every room in this place was like this, she took a look around the room. The only thing truly different in this room was its furniture: unlike her ‘cell’ from before, it didn’t have a bed, counter, or table with chairs. In fact, the only piece of furniture this room had was a chair. Just one, single, metallic chair that was bolted to the floor. Walking forward, Alia examined the chair closely. It didn’t seem unusual at all. In fact, it just looked like a simple chair.

    “What do I do here?” Alia wondered, eyebrows furrowed. She was confused, wondering why she was here in this boring old room. Her mind spun with the many possibilities of why, the worst being that she was in the room where they were going to kill her. She ruled that out, as it was highly unlikely that she was going to die here. It just didn’t seem likely that she was going to die; she more likely served a purpose to these people, her and that Alexandra girl, and possibly even the redheaded girl.

    “Here, you will show us your ability,” one of the guards told her with a gruff tone. “Don’t try lyin’ to us, we know what you can do.”

    “Now, now, don’t scare her off.” The man from before stepped into the room, spreading his arms. “We merely want to see what you can do, Alia. Magnetism is a powerful ability, and controlling it is even harder. We simply want to see what level you are at.”

    “I-I don’t even know any of you. Y-You’re all st-strangers. And m-magnetism?” Alia’s voice was shaking, her words filled with stutters as she watched them all, crossing her arms. She didn’t have any special ability. That was crazy! . . . Right?

    “My name is Thesar Doctor, but I go by The Doctor.” Alia would’ve laughed if it weren’t such a dark moment. What kind of name was The? Were his parents on some sort of drug when they named him? They at least had to have been high.

    “Okay, but I still don’t know you.”

    “You will get to know me over time.”

    “I’m still not going to show you my powers.”

    Thesar--which Alia was going to call him, because The is a stupid name-- let out a sigh, looking away. “Please, Alia. We need to know your kind better. You’re very special, you know. Much more special than you think.”

    “So there’s more people like me? That other girl . . . Alexandra? Is she like me?” Anxiety grew in the girl at the possibility. What if Alia could scream like that too? Would she end up hurting the people she loved?

    “Well, sort of. Your kind all has powers, but they vary based on the person and their capabilities. For example, you like metalwork, so you have Magnetism as your power.” Alia’s eyes widened at his words. Metalwork was a hobby of Alia’s, one that no one else knew about. She kept it secret from everyone else, as she felt she would be excluded for doing something that was considered a ‘boy thing’, and be treated differently just because of it. It was her little secret, one she shared with no other.

    “H-How do you know about that?” She asked, unsteadiness clear in her tone.

    “I know a lot of things, dear Alia.”

    “Stop calling me that.”

“Alia is your name, isn’t it?”

“Dear Alia isn’t my name.”

Thesar merely chuckled, amused at her anger and stubbornness. Alia crossed her arms over her chest, glowering at him.
    “Now, either tell me why I’m here, or let me go,” she spat, and he tilted his head to one side. “What’s the purpose of me being taken here, into this building--this room?” Yes, she was curious. The curiosity was more so than her anger toward Thesar, for being so secretive.

“You’ll find out as soon as you focus your power on that chair.” Bingo, there it was. He wanted her to demonstrate her ‘power’ on the stupid metal chair. Little did he know, there was no way she would do that.

☘

Alex was dragged into the room that she was in before, screaming into the gag. She didn’t even know she’d carried this sort of power. What would happen if she attempted using her sort of power from earlier and make those guards as brainless as those people had been? Without killing them, of course.

The guards shoved her into the room, and she fell flat on her face, her hands out to protect her body. “Ugh, can’t you learn common courtesy?” She muttered, yanking out the gag from her mouth. She then sat up, turning toward the guards when she realized--she had no clue how she’d controlled those people. They were already under her power or whatever when she’d come outside to see what all the fuss was about. She attempted focusing on trying to control them, trying to see if that was how she’d done it. When they didn’t fall under, she growled in frustration.

“Stop tryin’, girl. It ain’t gonna work on us,” one of them said, merely watching her with an almost bored expression on his face.

Her eyes narrowed as she focused more, trying even harder than before. She was going to control them, and she wasn’t going to give up. She chanted in her mind, submit, submit, submit . . .

And suddenly, it worked. Both guards fell quickly and deeply under her spell, and it was clear on their faces. They had the same sort of glazed-over look in their eyes, and the same blank expressions. They were completely and totally under her power. This made her grin.

“Finally.” She spread her arms. “You’re both mine.”

The guards had left the room, wearing all of their clothes normally--except the underwear on their heads and they paced up and down the halls, muttering incoherently.  Alex had clearly had her fun with them.

Alex herself had slipped out of the room, walking along the halls at a slow pace. Her gaze was flicking along the walls, examining every inch. This place was interesting, and unfamiliar, though Alex was not uneasy; she wanted to explore the building, and learn more and more about it, as well as the people inside it. Oh, the things she could do to them. She had no limits to her power--that she knew of.

🌙

Nine merely stared on in shock. So these two girls had abilities. Special abilities. Especially the one named Alexandra, whose scream was loud enough to burst anyone’s eardrums. Nine knew the other girl, apparently named Alia, had to have some power, as The Doctor had stated.

Nine herself had some abilities, though she never had shown anyone else. It was something of a secret, kept among each of the girls. They were the only other ones who had seen each other's’ abilities, as the others at the Facility had decided that it would be a better idea to keep their abilities to each other, instead of studying them like lab rats in cages.

“Is this a part of my Test?” She asked, turning to face The Doctor. Her blood suddenly ran cold; what if this was a part of her Test? What if she was going to be killed by one of those girls? What if they hurt her? Nine suddenly was fearful again, worrying immensely about what would happen to her.

The Doctor let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “No, no, Nine. This is not your Test. Simply some more girls joining us today. We thought you were lonely and felt you needed some friends.”

“But . . . my Test. The others went away during their Test and never came back.”

“Yes, indeed they did. But you are different, Nine. You are special.” With every word The Doctor spoke, Nine grew more and more confused. She didn’t feel special in any sort of way. Well, not special other than the things that made her and the others special.

“I’m confused,” she murmured, looking down at the ground. Thoughts fluttered around in her mind at high speeds, making her slightly dizzy. “How am I special?”

“You’ll see soon. I promise.”

It wasn’t long later when Nine was led to another room. It was a large room, with a window covering an entire wall, and the other three walls being blank and white in color. A little table with buttons and switches covering it fit snugly right below the window, and a man sat at a stool in front of the table. He wore headphones, and was looking through the window, occasionally flipping switches and pressing buttons. If Nine hadn’t known better, she would have thought the man was a ‘deejay’, as Six had described to her.

The Doctor had left, somewhere else, and Nine was led into the room by a guard. He shoved her into the room, before slamming the door shut. The man turned around, and smiled at her as he yanked off his headphones. “Ah, you must be Nine, yes?” When she nodded her head, the man beckoned her forward with a hand.

Gingerly, Nine moved forward, toward him. Something about him made her uneasy, like he would hurt her, even though his smile seemed kind and inviting. She’d never seen this man before, or this room. In fact, she’d never been to this part of the entire Facility before. Nearly her entire life was spent in one hallway: her room, the eating area, a bathroom, and a training area. Not to mention she’d never seen this man before. Then again, Nine had only met a few scientists at the Facility before, as they kept her something of a secret, so she didn’t know very many people.

“What do you want with me?” Nine asked the man, watching him.

“My name is Carson,” he replied. He had shaggy blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and wore a black shirt and light blue jeans. He looked no older than Nine did, or maybe just a year or two older. His bright, clear skin almost seemed to sparkle in the overhead lights. “I’m just here to help you along on your Test.”

“Well, yeah, but how will you help me on it? I mean, isn’t it supposed to be something I do on my own?”

“Just enter that room there, please.” Carson pointed to a door right beside the window, and she let out a soft sigh of defeat, walking to the door and slowly turning the metal knob. She pulled it open, only to see that it was empty, except for a single metal chair bolted to the floor. The walls and floor were all white and void of decoration, except for a mirror that was right where the window had been on the other side.

“What am I supposed to do?” Nine called, confused. She’d never seen a room like this before, and was curious as to why she was here. What part of her Test was this?  Was she going to die from this? It didn’t look very harmful; it was only a chair, after all.

“Use your power, of course,” Carson’s voice sounded from seemingly nowhere. Nine jumped at it, glancing around. “Just focus on the chair and use your power on it.”

Nine then tensed as she realized what he’d said. How did he know about her abilities? No one else knew about her power other than her and the other girls. It was a secret, after all. Her mind spun faster than she could comprehend, making her dizzy. She put the back of her hand against her forehead, letting out a slow breath. “H-How do you know about my p-power?” She asked in a shaking tone, closing her eyes to help herself calm down.

“More people know about that than you think, Nine. In fact, you know less than you think.”

Chapter Three

Alia let out a breath, turning to face the chair. In mere moments, she devised a plan: she would focus her hardest on the chair, give up when nothing happened, and be let go. Easy-peasy.

She focused her gaze on the chair, her eyes narrowed slightly in an ‘attempt’ to draw her power. Her hands clenched into fists slightly, her jaw tightening. When nothing happened, Alia sighed and relaxed. “This is useless. I don’t have any power,” she said, doing her best to sound hopeless and tired.

“It’s not hopeless,” Carson’s voice called. “Try harder.” Alia merely sighed again, staring up at the ceiling. Her plan was already beginning to waver. Turning back toward the chair, she focused harder on it. The familiar feeling of ice surged through her body, filling her up again with something that felt like below-zero temperature. Warmth trickled down her nose, and she could taste blood in her mouth coming from her nose, but she kept her gaze on the chair, focusing her hardest. She was reminded of the feeling she got after seeing the vehicles float at the orchard, though this seemed slightly different.

This time, Alia wanted them to float. She wanted to show Carson that it wasn’t her doing it, that she just happened to be there to witness the strange occurrences, but she also wanted to make the chair pull from its bolts and hurl itself at the window (which was pretty clearly a two-way mirror). As she focused harder, she saw the bolts began to slowly undo themselves. They twisted on their own, before they were fully out of their little holes, and lifted into the air. Alia merely stared on as they set themselves silently on the ground--and then nothing happened.

The chair just sat there, plain and stationary. It didn’t move even an inch, no matter how hard Alia focused on it. Alia tried harder, for some reason feeling that she had to focus as hard as she could. The icy feeling kept surging through her body, and out of the corner of her eye she could see blood dripping onto the floor from her nose. Come on . . . come on . . , she urged herself mentally.

It was after nearly ten minutes of standing there staring at the chair when it began to lift. A low groan emitted from the chair as it peeled itself from the floor it’d spent perhaps years bolted to, and slowly moved into the air. Alia cheered silently without making a movement, her intent gaze following the chair upward.

The chair stayed fixed in the air a moment, before dropping to the ground with a rough thud. Alia grinned in satisfaction, but quickly wiped the grin from her face as she turned to face the mirror, arms crossed. “What now?” She called, loud enough for Carson to hear her.

“Now you come with me,” Carson spoke over the intercom. Strangely, she could hear a smirk in his voice . . .

☘

Alex made her way down the hall, flanked by two guards. She’d had her fun, but it was time to get out of here. This place was driving her crazy, and she just wanted home. She didn’t care about anything else except finding her home, lying down in her bed with some hot tea, and binge-watching her favorite shows.

She turned the corner, focused on getting out. She couldn’t possibly be stopped by anyone, they had no clue what she was capable of. Alex was more powerful than anyone here, not the redheaded girl, not the blonde. Their powers couldn’t possibly match her own. They were weak, compared to her. Whatever they were.

Alex’s eyes then landed on the door. She could already see the grassy field outdoors; she was going to be free! She just had to get there. Speeding up, the brunette broke out into a mad dash for the door. She grew nearer, nearer, she was almost there--and then someone blocked the door from her.

It was the old man, the one who’d told her she had immense power. He gave her an icy smile, his head tilted slightly to one side. “Hello again, Alexandra,” he spoke. She tensed, giving him an icy glare. “Oh, come now. I won’t hurt you. I just want you to get back to your room. You don’t want to get in trouble now, do you?”

“No,” Alex grumbled, scowling. She didn’t even know what ‘trouble’ meant, or what kind of trouble she would get into. What could he do, ground her?

“Good. Come with me.” He placed his hand on his hip, holding out his elbow to her. When she did nothing, he sighed. “Put your arm through mine,” he said sternly. Alex huffed, but looped her arm through his. He then began walking, and she immediately had to walk with him.

The old man led her down the hall and back toward her room--then he passed it. Alex’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she watched her room pass by, trudging after him. “Where are we going?”

“We’re just making a quick stop. I need to check something.”

It turned out that the man was getting his lab coat, one that said “The Doctor” on it. How ironic, a doctor coat that said “The Doctor”. Alex would’ve laughed if she wasn’t angry at that moment.

“Come with me,” the man said as he looped with her arm again, leading her down the hall--only to pass by her room once more. Where was he taking her?