"Jesse? What are you talking about?" Emma questioned, trying to rise,
pressing a hand to her sore back. Her body had stayed in the same position
for so long, her muscles were aching, and still bruised from earlier that
day. Rubbing it, she waited for Jesse to respond, but she didn't receive
any answer. Quietly, she asked again, waiting, "Jesse?" Her pulse seemed
to be more audible than ever before, and it quickened even more when
otherwise all she could hear was silence. She could feel Jesse move from
her side, and she put her hand on his arm, pulling him back. His skin was
cold, and he roughly withdrew her hand from his arm. He rapidly turned his
head to Emma, reading her face with his eyes. His eyes scaled her worry,
and he gave her hand back to her, placing pressure, showing his intention
to keep her from standing up.
Instead of an answer, Emma felt two fingers press against her lips, warning her to be quiet. Resembling Shalimar's flexibility and cat-like nature, he maneuvered himself away from Emma, away from the wall. As Jesse slowly backed up, he left Emma to hide behind whatever she could find. Moving seemed to be difficult for him, and she could hear slight groans and heavy breathing. But they soon dissipated, leaving her with only a vague idea of where he was. The darkness filled the room, and the air was so still that even an ant could have made an echo. The moon removed itself from behind the clouds and positioned itself in Emma's favor, casting its light through one of the windows. She could see a clear view of Jesse, and once again, could only see in tints of blues, grays, and black. He was smoothly creeping across the room, his back pressed against the wall opposite Emma. Using his back against the wall and his hand on the floor to support himself, his motions were unvoiced and swift. Stopping at a callous- looking door, he peered at it, and waited to the left of the doorknob. Jesse curled up the wall, leaning into it, almost disappearing inside it.
Furious, by having let Jesse go by himself, Emma slid against the wall. But she reasoned it within her mind, noting that there wasn't much she could have done had she gone, and he was only 50 or so yards in front of her. His face was expressionless, and Emma debated on whether or not to read his mind, searching for what he was going through emotionally. Almost achieving a peaceful look, but there was a hint of concern and almost an atmosphere of distrust. His eyes peered through the darkness, squinting in a struggle to understand the visuals in front of him. Emma couldn't help but want to read his mind; she had to know what he thinking. She decided against it, but the temptation was there, and she tried to busy her mind with other things: how was she going to hide? What is going happen? Who is on the other side of that door? It was impossible to tell.or was it? Her thoughts were interrupted when a large cacophony was heard on the other side of the wall. She shed a caveat look over to Jesse, who was busy studying the voices that were reacting. The moon shifted, and Emma could no longer see anything.
Her instincts kept her alert, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Nothing could be seen.Emma tried to readjust her eyes, but it was as helpful as a candle in a sandstorm. She felt against the back of the wall she was leaning against, and propped herself up. She knew it wouldn't help her vision any to stand, and it wouldn't probably create noise if she tried. She silently leaned against the brick, and ardently waited for the moon's light to return. Her senses were at their peak, picking up traces of all kinds of creaks, aches and clatters that she had never noticed before. She could almost swear she heard the pitter-patter of feet above her head, although she knew it was impossible. Trying to shake the image, she closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on the sounds around her. There were no sounds that seemed unordinary to her, and apparently the clamor that had previously occurred made the things behind the wall freeze. Deep in thought, Emma almost didn't realize that the luminescence the moon was giving on her eyelids. She immediantly looked up, and over to Jesse. In horror, she read his face, where all the youth seemed to have vacuumed out of him, and only grim wear-and-tear remained. The appearance of his face was a look of terror, one that hid of the most evil things she had ever seen. At first she thought he was telling her to run, but then she realized it was telling her even more not to leave him there alone.
Emma couldn't fight the temptation anymore, and she tried to get a read off the people behind Jesse's wall. She reared her head back, and flashed her psionic powers toward them, trying to get a hit off them and who they really were. She prayed that her powers would pull through for her, and that these creatures had not put up some kind of blockade against them. Suddenly, without any rhyme or reason, Emma was caught up in a whirl-wind of emotions. She struggled to grasp an image, but there was none. She could barely get a read off these things, as they seemed to have barely enough thought to keep a stable emotion. Their thoughts were flying, jumping everywhere. Emma couldn't figure out what was going on.random images kept appearing out of nowhere. Flying around aimlessly, she was abruptly with them, inside of their minds. Thrashing about, blurs of pictures and colors flooded the air, and Emma waved at them, trying to make them disappear. She kept trying to end her powers, trying to get herself out of there. But it was no use, and there was no escape: it was as if they were inside her own mind, and her thoughts, fears and emotions were being bounced back onto herself. There were reflections of herself, her teammates, and even individual shots of Adam, Brennan, and the rest. She couldn't make sense of anything: she tried to rack her brain back and forth, resisting these intruders in her mind. But in spite of the efforts to keep her out, she did receive one emotion, one that came clearer than any picture she'd ever previously obtained.
Hastily, she was thrown back into reality, outside of their minds, and delving deep into her own. They could only leave her with vague images, as if the ones she had seen inside their own brains somehow never existed. The blurs were still present in her mind however, and as she tried to interpret them herself, she came up blank. It was incredible.it was fascinating, deathly horrifying and still filled with complete serenity. It was like a quiet chaos being inside their minds, and every minute of their everyday was filled with it. Sending chills up her spine, she tried to shake it off, but it was almost impossible-and she almost didn't want to. The feeling itself was sensational, like a form of ecstasy and angst morphed into one consoling sentiment. Calming herself, she tried to focus, thinking of what the image was. It was almost indescribable, the picture that was sent back with her.she could feel it, touch it, see it, hear it, but there were no words. Nothing could possibly describe what was seen. Frustrated, Emma threw herself into the image, noticing its every curve, depicting its every motion. It could be felt, it could be heard, but nothing more. All it could do, or even hope to do, was give a faint sense of their bedlam.
Her eyes struggled to open, knowing that if they did they would have to come back to the reality of the moment, with Jesse in danger and her in waiting. Eventually, they exposed themselves to the moon's beam, making Emma squint a few times to regain her sight. Stroking her eyes, she turned to Jesse, expecting to see him eagerly pressing himself against the wall in anticipation. Instead, she saw him carefully studying her, for she hadn't realized that he was watching her the entire time she had been in her reverie. He had an expression of concern, but as soon as she looked towards him, it left his face. It was replaced by curiosity, and Emma simply shook her head, wordlessly telling him to forget about it. She knew he would probably never understand it---and how could he, if she couldn't? Instead of sending him the image, he pointed a phased finger toward the wall, asking Emma for permission. At first she couldn't understand his intention, but after a moment it started to sink in. A guise of apprehension took form on her face, and she bit her lip. It didn't matter who it was on the other side of that wall, she wasn't about to let her best friend face it alone.
Jesse could read her mind, and he shook his head. He began to phase his entire arm, expressing his urgency of the situation. Their bodies communicated an entire conversation within a few seconds, arguing, debating, and downright yelling at times. Emma questioned Jesse, asking him to let her come along. But he mouthed to her that it would be best for her to stay, and take guard. She squinted at him, and finally conceded, shrugging it off. She rolled her eyes, and said to herself, "Always the hero." Trying to lighten the moment, she sent a picture of Jesse's head on Superman's body and smirked. He laughed, having to cover his mouth to try to remain silent. He rolled his eyes and within a second, and no warning to Emma, he phased through the wall.
Emma's heartbeat jumped rapidly, and she waited anxiously, hoping that Jesse would appear at any second, and he would come back to her side to say, that there was no one there, that there was nothing to worry about, and they would return to the Sanctuary in the morning. The next few seconds felt like hours, and her eyes suddenly widened and every nerve in her body stood on end. She heard a scream, one that pierced through her ears and sounding like the cry of a hurt animal. It vibrated off the walls and it was surprising that none of the windows had cracked. Within an instant, all of the most cruel ideas rang through Emma's mind, and her brain connected the upset cry to what she had tried to read off the people behind the walls.and she grimaced. However, she stopped, and took time to think about the penetrating wail. The voice did not belong to Jesse. It was decidedly more.feminine.
Instead of an answer, Emma felt two fingers press against her lips, warning her to be quiet. Resembling Shalimar's flexibility and cat-like nature, he maneuvered himself away from Emma, away from the wall. As Jesse slowly backed up, he left Emma to hide behind whatever she could find. Moving seemed to be difficult for him, and she could hear slight groans and heavy breathing. But they soon dissipated, leaving her with only a vague idea of where he was. The darkness filled the room, and the air was so still that even an ant could have made an echo. The moon removed itself from behind the clouds and positioned itself in Emma's favor, casting its light through one of the windows. She could see a clear view of Jesse, and once again, could only see in tints of blues, grays, and black. He was smoothly creeping across the room, his back pressed against the wall opposite Emma. Using his back against the wall and his hand on the floor to support himself, his motions were unvoiced and swift. Stopping at a callous- looking door, he peered at it, and waited to the left of the doorknob. Jesse curled up the wall, leaning into it, almost disappearing inside it.
Furious, by having let Jesse go by himself, Emma slid against the wall. But she reasoned it within her mind, noting that there wasn't much she could have done had she gone, and he was only 50 or so yards in front of her. His face was expressionless, and Emma debated on whether or not to read his mind, searching for what he was going through emotionally. Almost achieving a peaceful look, but there was a hint of concern and almost an atmosphere of distrust. His eyes peered through the darkness, squinting in a struggle to understand the visuals in front of him. Emma couldn't help but want to read his mind; she had to know what he thinking. She decided against it, but the temptation was there, and she tried to busy her mind with other things: how was she going to hide? What is going happen? Who is on the other side of that door? It was impossible to tell.or was it? Her thoughts were interrupted when a large cacophony was heard on the other side of the wall. She shed a caveat look over to Jesse, who was busy studying the voices that were reacting. The moon shifted, and Emma could no longer see anything.
Her instincts kept her alert, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Nothing could be seen.Emma tried to readjust her eyes, but it was as helpful as a candle in a sandstorm. She felt against the back of the wall she was leaning against, and propped herself up. She knew it wouldn't help her vision any to stand, and it wouldn't probably create noise if she tried. She silently leaned against the brick, and ardently waited for the moon's light to return. Her senses were at their peak, picking up traces of all kinds of creaks, aches and clatters that she had never noticed before. She could almost swear she heard the pitter-patter of feet above her head, although she knew it was impossible. Trying to shake the image, she closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on the sounds around her. There were no sounds that seemed unordinary to her, and apparently the clamor that had previously occurred made the things behind the wall freeze. Deep in thought, Emma almost didn't realize that the luminescence the moon was giving on her eyelids. She immediantly looked up, and over to Jesse. In horror, she read his face, where all the youth seemed to have vacuumed out of him, and only grim wear-and-tear remained. The appearance of his face was a look of terror, one that hid of the most evil things she had ever seen. At first she thought he was telling her to run, but then she realized it was telling her even more not to leave him there alone.
Emma couldn't fight the temptation anymore, and she tried to get a read off the people behind Jesse's wall. She reared her head back, and flashed her psionic powers toward them, trying to get a hit off them and who they really were. She prayed that her powers would pull through for her, and that these creatures had not put up some kind of blockade against them. Suddenly, without any rhyme or reason, Emma was caught up in a whirl-wind of emotions. She struggled to grasp an image, but there was none. She could barely get a read off these things, as they seemed to have barely enough thought to keep a stable emotion. Their thoughts were flying, jumping everywhere. Emma couldn't figure out what was going on.random images kept appearing out of nowhere. Flying around aimlessly, she was abruptly with them, inside of their minds. Thrashing about, blurs of pictures and colors flooded the air, and Emma waved at them, trying to make them disappear. She kept trying to end her powers, trying to get herself out of there. But it was no use, and there was no escape: it was as if they were inside her own mind, and her thoughts, fears and emotions were being bounced back onto herself. There were reflections of herself, her teammates, and even individual shots of Adam, Brennan, and the rest. She couldn't make sense of anything: she tried to rack her brain back and forth, resisting these intruders in her mind. But in spite of the efforts to keep her out, she did receive one emotion, one that came clearer than any picture she'd ever previously obtained.
Hastily, she was thrown back into reality, outside of their minds, and delving deep into her own. They could only leave her with vague images, as if the ones she had seen inside their own brains somehow never existed. The blurs were still present in her mind however, and as she tried to interpret them herself, she came up blank. It was incredible.it was fascinating, deathly horrifying and still filled with complete serenity. It was like a quiet chaos being inside their minds, and every minute of their everyday was filled with it. Sending chills up her spine, she tried to shake it off, but it was almost impossible-and she almost didn't want to. The feeling itself was sensational, like a form of ecstasy and angst morphed into one consoling sentiment. Calming herself, she tried to focus, thinking of what the image was. It was almost indescribable, the picture that was sent back with her.she could feel it, touch it, see it, hear it, but there were no words. Nothing could possibly describe what was seen. Frustrated, Emma threw herself into the image, noticing its every curve, depicting its every motion. It could be felt, it could be heard, but nothing more. All it could do, or even hope to do, was give a faint sense of their bedlam.
Her eyes struggled to open, knowing that if they did they would have to come back to the reality of the moment, with Jesse in danger and her in waiting. Eventually, they exposed themselves to the moon's beam, making Emma squint a few times to regain her sight. Stroking her eyes, she turned to Jesse, expecting to see him eagerly pressing himself against the wall in anticipation. Instead, she saw him carefully studying her, for she hadn't realized that he was watching her the entire time she had been in her reverie. He had an expression of concern, but as soon as she looked towards him, it left his face. It was replaced by curiosity, and Emma simply shook her head, wordlessly telling him to forget about it. She knew he would probably never understand it---and how could he, if she couldn't? Instead of sending him the image, he pointed a phased finger toward the wall, asking Emma for permission. At first she couldn't understand his intention, but after a moment it started to sink in. A guise of apprehension took form on her face, and she bit her lip. It didn't matter who it was on the other side of that wall, she wasn't about to let her best friend face it alone.
Jesse could read her mind, and he shook his head. He began to phase his entire arm, expressing his urgency of the situation. Their bodies communicated an entire conversation within a few seconds, arguing, debating, and downright yelling at times. Emma questioned Jesse, asking him to let her come along. But he mouthed to her that it would be best for her to stay, and take guard. She squinted at him, and finally conceded, shrugging it off. She rolled her eyes, and said to herself, "Always the hero." Trying to lighten the moment, she sent a picture of Jesse's head on Superman's body and smirked. He laughed, having to cover his mouth to try to remain silent. He rolled his eyes and within a second, and no warning to Emma, he phased through the wall.
Emma's heartbeat jumped rapidly, and she waited anxiously, hoping that Jesse would appear at any second, and he would come back to her side to say, that there was no one there, that there was nothing to worry about, and they would return to the Sanctuary in the morning. The next few seconds felt like hours, and her eyes suddenly widened and every nerve in her body stood on end. She heard a scream, one that pierced through her ears and sounding like the cry of a hurt animal. It vibrated off the walls and it was surprising that none of the windows had cracked. Within an instant, all of the most cruel ideas rang through Emma's mind, and her brain connected the upset cry to what she had tried to read off the people behind the walls.and she grimaced. However, she stopped, and took time to think about the penetrating wail. The voice did not belong to Jesse. It was decidedly more.feminine.
