Chapter Text
John
What…?
“...were careful...what are we...find out...powerful…”
What’s...going...on…
“Oh look, he’s awake.”
A hand grabs his hair roughly, pulling his head up; his eyes open in dazed surprise. The room is dark; a shadowed figure stands in front of him. He can’t see the rest of the room; his vision is blurred and spinning too much for him to make out many details. His head is throbbing viciously. The shadowed figure is probably the one hurting him. But why? He needs to fight back-
He can’t move.
He notices the cold press of metal around his wrists, pulling them above his head, preventing him from moving. He takes in the feeling of weightlessness- he’s probably chained to the wall. For a moment, he remembers the last time he wore cuffs like these, and panic stirs in his chest, but he presses it down. He has to focus.
Why?
The hand on his hair tightens, drawing out an involuntary groan of pain that he quickly cuts short, gritting his teeth. He narrows his eyes as well as he can in this situation, but his captor just laughs. Like he’s a puppy asking for a treat that he’s not allowed to have.
A second figure emerges from the right. It's a girl, wearing a hoodie to mask her features. She carries a clipboard, jotting down notes from time to time. “John Doe. Welcome to the land of the living.”
“Where the h*** am I.”
She tuts at the growl she receives as an answer. “Now, now, it wouldn’t be in your best interests to get off on the wrong foot… we’re going to be spending quite a lot of time together.”
John didn't answer, instead deciding to focus on figuring out where in the name of h*** he was. Last he checked, he was sleeping in his dorm alone since Blyke rarely came in these days. Completely fine by him.
He had smelled something weird that night, but he had pinned it on something rotting in the fridge.
That was his mistake.
The dim lighting makes it very hard to discern where he was, but one thing he notices is the small, blood-red glowing symbol on their clothes. It looked oddly familiar… Wait. Of course it did.
It was branded on the corpses in the news.
“EMBER…”
The shadowed man chuckles, a deep laugh that shook John to the core, although he schools his face into a grimace. “You know who we are. Admittedly, the media doesn’t give us the best reputation.”
He knew-
John flinches when cold fingers make their way to his face, trailing up his jawline to cup his cheek like he isn’t one of the most dangerous humans out there. He tries to move his head away but there’s only so much you can avoid. John practically hears the sneer in the man’s voice as he chuckles at John’s futile attempts.
“Who-who are you?” John forces out.
Suddenly the grip on his cheek tightens, making John gasp in surprise. The malice from this person is overwhelming. The other girl just sighs and leans back, watching the exchange take place.
“All you need to know is that we are EMBER,” The man practically coos. “John Doe...so famous for bringing all of the royals at Wellston to their knees, begging for mercy. That boy is right here in the hands of the organization about to reform the world. How lucky could we get?” The last words were whispered, but yet so sharp and punctuated.
At that moment, John realizes that the uncontrollable tremors of his body are not from the chilling temperatures.
No, it is because John is afraid.
And John almost wants to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness. Him? Afraid? Just yesterday, he was the feared one-- all of the f***ing a**holes at Wellston knew better than to get in his way. He could burn EMBER to ashes if he so pleased. And yet, here he is, chained to a wall, helpless and at their mercy.
If only they used their power…
The man in front of him tuts, shaking his head. “My boy, I already am using my power.”
John freezes.
How-
The sickly feeling in his stomach intensifies as he realizes the implications of the man’s sentence. Of course. He can read f***ing minds. What kind of crazy overpowered power is that!? But the most terrifying part is that the man’s activity isn’t actually activated; John would have been able to mimic his aura if it were. No, this is just the passive aspect of some other power. What’s this guy’s level? 9 point something?
If he’s so powerful, why’s he working with EMBER?
“All in due time, my boy.”
This f***ing--
John doesn’t have a moment’s notice before the man’s face is inches from his own. He raises his chin to put some space, because try as he might to deny it, this guy was freaking creepy.
The guy’s face slowly breaks out into a grin.
Case in point.
The person finally releases his vice-like grip from John’s cheek. It smarts badly and John doesn’t have the luxury of rubbing it to soothe the pain. He just clenches his jaw, determined not to let the bossman see him weak.
The man gestures to the woman, who is watching in amusement. “You can go ahead and get started,” He orders flippantly. “I expect him to be more well-behaved by the time I return tomorrow.”
“You wish.”
The guy spares a glance behind him to glare at John. “I’m warning you now,” His tone deathly quiet in the chamber. “Nobody will rescue you. Nobody cares about you. They’d much rather see you gone than have you running their pitiful little school. So unless you want to face the...ah, consequences, I suggest you school your mind and behave.”
And he leaves.
John doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he lets it all out.
The person is not wrong. Nobody gives a flying sh** about what happens to him. Not even Seraphina. Not after…
No, this is not the right time to think about that! He shakes his head, willing the useless thoughts to go away. He can’t afford to get caught up in his head.
These are just a new set of jerks, flying high on a power trip. He would survive this and show everyone who’s boss.
The woman walks closer. “What do you say we play a game.” Her eyes glinted wildly, and a slow, predatory smile replaced her earlier disinterested expression. He can’t quite tell what she has in her hands, but it’s small and reflective and really can’t be anything good, given the circumstances.
John’s apprehension mounts further, but he buries it beneath grim resolve. This is hardly the first time he’s been hurt, even if the circumstances are a little… different. He can take it.
He’d get out… somehow.