Charlie woke up to the feeling of a strong hand on his chin. He opened his eyes but of course saw nothing. Cold, metal bars dug into his back and thick iron chains cut into his wrists and ankles. His body ached and he remembered the previous night. He struggled and the men had beaten him, beaten him until he passed out. Why, he did not know. He could not have escaped. Maybe they did it out of spite. But something else seemed strange to him, everything sounded extremely dull and quiet. Normally, he had to cover his ears to little sounds, now he struggled to hear the voice of the hand that held his jaw.
"Charlie, Charlie, Charlie," it said. "Why couldn't you have been a good little boy and minded your own business?"
Charlie knew now that the voice belonged to Paul. But why did it sound so dull, and quiet? Like he stood behind a glass wall trying to talk to him.
"What's going on?" Charlie groaned. "I-I can't hear. Why can't I hear?"
Paul laughed and let go of his chin after a hard shake. He did not answer; instead, he simply stood and laughed some more.
Charlie felt utterly cut off and trapped. Now not only could he not see, but also he could hardly hear. What had Paul done to him? Finally, after a few moments of agonizing silence. Paul spoke, "You don't enjoy loosing your power, do you Charlie? It cripples you even more than you were before, you pathetic waist of air." He grabbed Charlie by the neck. His big fingers dug into it, and Charlie could not breathe. "This is what you get for spying on me. A little disk has been installed to keep your powers under control-my control. There will be no more spying."