Sitting In A Room With White Knuckles
He awoke on an old operating table to see a dim yellow light shining down him. The room was covered in grimy yellowed tiles. He felt his chest to mind a mass of bandages covering the stab wound the brown-eyed stranger had inflicted. He rolled his head to the left, finding that the bandages encircled the underside of the operating table.
Interesting.
Locke reached down to pull the bandages apart in order to free himself from the table. He received a painful electrical shock causing his hand to jerk back to his chest.
Dammit, what is this?
Suddenly he thought of unraveling the bandages on his chest, but caught his err quickly.
I'll end up bleeding to death. They have me trapped and are trying to torture me.
"Yes I think that is our plan."
"What the . . ."
"Over here." Locke turned to his left to find the source of the mysterious and haunting voice. A young man, about the age of 25, was standing in a corner of the dilapidated chamber. His blonde hair had a dim radiance to it under the glow of the yellow light. He stood in a shimmering black cloak made of fine silken fibers. "That is exactly our point. Torture." he said with ferocious discord.
"I . . ."
"Don't wonder about how I knew what you were thinking." I'm incredibly psychic.
Is that so?
Yes, now you will do exactly what we tell you to, understood?
Yeah, I understand what you're getting at. But I'm not promising I'll comply with it.
The young man laughed. "The stories I've heard about you Cole, it seems they were all right."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"By all means it is." The young man started towards the operating table. "Ironic isn't it?"
"What?"
"Here you are with your pitiful gaping wound bound to an operating table of all things. It has a slightly sardonic touch, no?"
"I was thinking that. Guess it's those psychic abilities of yours."
"No doubt it was." The young man stepped closer to Locke, looming over the injured treasure hunter. Locke gazed directly into the young man's soft green eyes, feeling his mind probed by the advanced mind inside the youth's head.
"Reading my thoughts?" Locke asked in a chagrin tone.
"No, your memories. You've had quite the life. In fact you're still having it."
"What are you saying? That I'm thriving while you're dead?" Locke asked.
"You could say that."
"Look at you, you're a youthful man still full of life. I'm aging. I'm growing old." Locke said, keeping his sight locked on the green eyes.
"You haven't sold your soul to this gift. If you devote your life to the psychic power you will be drained of life. For anyone you encounter, you will know all their secrets. Anyone you try to love, you'll know all of their lies. There is no life for someone who seizes the gift as I have will live the remainder of their life as a servant. They can only fill so many wants of their life."
"Then why did you 'seize the gift' in the first place?" Locke asked.
"It has a very lustrous allure. As a very young man of 14 I found it to be a compelling feat to read the minds of others. It seemed like some sort of magical power. Yet there is nothing magical about my abilities. Science has a few simple and just explanations."
"Can't you relinquish your power?" Locke said, continuing his interrogation. And I'm the prisoner here, conducting my interview, or interrogation. Perhaps this young man has a passion for irony.
The young man laughed. "A passion for irony, it would seem so, wouldn't it? Well, in answer to your question I have searched for a way to release my power. Unfortunately I have only been able to diminish them for a short period. When they return they are stronger than before. I've given up my hunt for a cure. I have decided to let my powers serve for a cause I support now. It's the most I can do to be somewhat happy."
"And what is that cause, o mysterious one?"
He laughed again. "The name is Klay. That's with a K mind you."
"All right Klay, what's your cause?"
"For that I cannot tell you Locke. You won't be my prisoner for much longer. I've extracted all I need from you."
"I'm expendable?" Locke asked the green eyes.
"Hardly."
"So are you part of some new rebellious group trying to start up the Empire again?"
Klay scoffed. "I'm not that low."
"Then how low are you?"
"Hmm, I do know a very adequate form of torture. Let's see how low it'll put me."
"What you have here looks like it could drive someone mad." Locke said, suddenly finding himself headed towards the wall. Although Locke had first noticed his separation from Klay's green eyes, he braced himself as he saw the grimy white tiles coming closer.
As he prepared for impact Klay came swooping down to stop the wheeled operating table. Klay threw his head back and cackled. "You can't imagine what I have up my sleeve." The blonde leaned in closer. Their eyes locked once more.
"What are you trying to do with me?" Locke asked fiercely.
"Everything I intended to do has already been done."
"Then why are you keeping me here? I don't know who you are, I doubt Klay is your real name, and I have no idea where this location is. I can't give anyone decent clues or leads. Nor can I say I admitted information. I haven't even spoken of my past or my friends. In fact, I know nothing about current politics or military operations!" Locke spat.
"That's not what I was looking for." Klay took a graceful leap to the ledge lining a small bared window near the low ceiling. "You're worth so much more than you imagine."
"What the hell are you talking about? Let me go."
"Look around Locke, see any exits?"
"That window."
"The damned bars on this window have enough rust to hold them in for a few more centuries. I want to tell you the truth Locke." Klay said with a wry smile.
"What?"
"I'm a prisoner of this place too." Klay pushed himself off of the ledge and plopped his feet back on the dusty floor. "I don't know how to get out either."
"Then what was all that nonsense about extracting information?!"
"My assignment. I woke up here one day with a man dressed in a white robe. He told me to wait for my subject and extract his memories when he arrived. At that point I would then be freed from here."
"They captured you?" Locke asked in a soft yet somber voice.
"No, I am paid for this work. I was hired. Unfortunately I didn't know the circumstances." Klay replied, focusing on the right wall.
"How many days have you been confined here?"
"Three. That's all." Klay answered, again with his eyes intent on the wall.
"How do you eat? How do you . . . Use the bathroom?"
"I have meals waiting for me when I wake. If you didn't notice I have a bucket in one of the corners. It's empty after I wake."
"So you're locked up here until you do what you've been told?"
"It could be put that way."
"How can you be sure you'll receive your promised pay?"
"I have inside sources." Klay paused to lean over the helpless Locke, placing their lips fingertips apart. "Besides, I could destroy all of them easily." Locke felt the lips of the handsome psychic press against his own. Their embrace lingered as Locke let his fragile arms fall around Klay's neck. As their lips parted Klay smiled, his face adding more warmth to the sweltering prison.
"Locke?" Klay murmured.
"Yes?" Locke answered, his voice trembling with each sound.
"I thought you had Celes!" Locke saw Klay's face contort into an expression of rage. He felt the operating table shoved towards the opposite wall.
He read my thoughts. He saw that I desired him.
As Locke predicted, Klay dashed to the opposite wall to stop Locke's collision.
Locke scoffed. "So you read my thoughts? You're giving me a piece of what I want and then you're throwing it away. Formidable torture I must say."
"Indeed. Unfortunately we only have the remainder of today. I'm sure after we both sleep tonight they'll separate us."
"What a shame." Locke said.
Klay began to circle the operating table. "You can only imagine what I have planned for you to endure. As the sun rises tomorrow you will be a new person."
"I don't follow you, but then again I really don't care."
"Was it my little helpless drama act that got you to start wanting me? I think it was." Klay said, looking over his shoulder at the imprisoned Returner.
"You know I have friends." Locke blurted.
"Invite them for tea sometime." Klay began to run his hand down Locke's leg. "I can remove your bandages if you'd like. You should be healed by now. Whoever captured you did no more than cut you with a laced blade."
"Laced with what?" Locke asked, his mind racing with fear.
"Oh just a mild poison. Just enough to put you out."
"You mean . . .?"
"Don't try to escape Locke. There's no way out of here that I know of. Yes you can remove those bandages and find nothing but a healing cut. I do know how to turn off the electrical field on your bed."
"Then remove both. Let me at least walk free. I promise not to hurt you." Locke said.
If I release you Locke, I will only read and speak to your mind. I will refuse to listen to your verbal speech. For what the mind says is the truth. The mouth embellishes it.
And what if I don't want you to know the truth? Locke asked.
That is the reason you and I can never truly love one another.
Rachel. Locke murmured.
Yes, she speaks to you this way too, doesn't she?
How do you know so much?
I've been watching you Locke. I've been watching you for a long time. Klay explained.
And your reason for watching me is what? Just serving your mysterious cause?
I want to fall in love with you.
Locke looked down to find that he was standing. Klay's arms were wrapped around Locke's waist, holding Locke close. Klay gave Locke another affectionate smile.
Then why are you torturing me?
I still am. As Locke received Klay's telepathic voice he felt their lips join once more. The kiss lasted even longer than the previous one. Locke felt a hand pressing against his pants. He realized Klay was fiddling with the button.
"This is . . . Barbaric." Locke whispered.
Locke, your thoughts say otherwise.
Locke admitted to himself that Klay was right. He wanted this.
Klay, give me what Celes cannot.
I shall.
"You can't love." Locke whispered.
