The first thing that wormed its way into his consciousness was a hum. Deep and even, it slipped into his perception, followed by the vibration of the ground beneath him. Seconds later it was followed by a raging headache, that made him gasp for breath. His skull felt like a steamroller had passed over it. Groaning, he rolled over and bumped his knee against a metal bar.
"Ah, our Sleeping Beauty waking up," he heard a voice from somewhere above. He tried to classify it, but the headache and the furry, sour taste in his mouth made deliberate thinking impossible. He groaned again and wanted to raise his head. It proved to be a mistake mistake, when a scorching hot knife penetrated his spinal cord and threatened to tear his head off.
"You better stay down until the narcotic has completely worn off. We do not want you to get hurt, " the voice boomed again. "Come here. Let me help you."
Before he could reply, massive hands grabbed him and brought him into an upright position. Something cold and smooth was pressed to his lips.
"Drink it. It will make it better. "
Bitterness washed the furry feeling in his mouth away, leaving only sharp clarity. Clarity about who had administered this refreshment to him.
Brad's eyes snapped open and widened, staring into the giant's grinning shark face.
"You'll be alright in no time," he purred, patting Brad's cheek with his paw. "You already look much better, Bradley."
"What? Where? Who?"
The giant grinned even wider. "Aren't that a lot of questions for starters? Let's have dinner first. You must be hungry and we won't have much time left to dine in peace after landing. "
As the massive figure cleared this field of vision, Brad suddenly realized where the steady buzzing sound he heard in the background was coming from.
"An airplane," he gasped. "I'm on a plane."
He looked down and noticed that his clothes had disappeared. Instead, he wore a dark gray jumpsuit.
"What's going on here?"
"Do you want to eat or not?", the giant repeated his offer a little more impatiently. The friendly facade crumbled for a moment, but the man immediately regained control. He pointed to a bench on one side of the small passenger plane and sat down on the other side. Without waiting for Brad's appearance, he reached for the flatware and continued his meal.
Uncertain, Brad rose and stumbled to the seat assigned to him. Gratefully for having reached the bank without collapsing, he slipped onto the smooth leather. On the table before him was a selection of dishes, but he did not touch them. His hunger for information was greater than the one in his stomach.
"What do you want from me?" he asked straight out. He had decided not to be intimidated, because that was obviously what the giant intended. Since he was in an inferior position anyway, after being knocked out and kidnapped it probably could not get much worse.
"You certainly have courage, lad," the giant, who called himself Vertigo, grunted. "I like that. Finally someone with balls. "
He put the last bit into his mouth, took a sip from his glass, and wiped his mouth with a napkin. Carelessly, he dropped the piece of cloth onto the plate.
"So, you have questions. Well then shoot! "
He leaned back in his seat as far as he could and looked at Brad, the way a child would look at a beetle that had fallen on its back and was struggling to get to its feet again.
"Who are you? What do you want from me? Where are you taking me? "
Vertigo made a disapproving sound. "You really want to have your cake and eat it. But I'll go easy on you just this once. First of all, we are on our way to Europe. More specifically to Germany. You've certainly heard of it before. We have a facility there for kids and teens like you. People with ... special abilities. You have a special ability, don't you, Bradley? "
Brad stared at the giant man. His thoughts kept running through his head. How did Vertigo know, how did anyone know about it? He had never talked about it. To no one. Who would have believed him anyway? Foreseeing the future, that was something for Gypsies and charlatans. Cheap tricks that fooled people into seeing what they wanted to see. He had not believed it himself at first.
It had started shortly after his 12th birthday. At first, there had only been little things. Déjà-vus, he thought at first. Things that happened and that he was sure he had experienced before. The dog barking out from behind a fence. The ice cream van that drove by and stopped at the corner because a girl came running out of the house with her mother. But these incidents piled up. He startled at night because he heard his mother call, just to hear that very same call three days later at lunchtime. It was coincidental, unpredictable, and it had scared him to death.
There had been days when he wanted to confess everything to his mother. But she had been so busy. With her work, with his father, with his little sibling, which was to be born any time soon. And then there was this day when she went to the hospital and came back without a baby. After that she had just been an empty shell. A dress wearing a pale face. Brad had not gone to the funeral. His father had beaten him for it and he had remained silent.
"You know what I'm talking about," Vertigo's voice urged itself into his seclusion. "You have the gift of seeing the future, my boy. I know, because we have been watching you. "
"Watching me?" That felt uncomfortable. Had they seen something like...? He tired to abandon the thought and tried to suppress the images that rose in his head. But now that he had summoned the memory, he could not chase them away anymore.
When he had realized what was going on - at least he thought he had - he had tried to use the gift on purpose. He had locked himself in his room, pulled the curtains and tried to see. And he had not been prepared for what awaited him. It was as if he had stepped naked into a blizzard. Millions and millions of images had crushed down on him, threatening to rip his mind to pieces. Using his last ounce of strength, he had managed to exclude them. When he awoke, he lay crumpled on the floor of his room, his pants wetted, while his father pounded the door and yelled at him to open it immediately. Brad never tried to see the future again. Instead, he spent all his energies banishing the hated visions from his head. Since then, only suspicions remained. Things scratching on the edge of his consciousness and he had tried not to pay too much attention to them as not to open the door to madness again.
"What ..." he croaked and gratefully reached for the glass of water that Vertigo handed him. He tossed it down in one sip. "What happened to my clothes?"
Vertigo's blond eyebrows lifted in surprised. Then he smiled. "We sent them back. One of our men took them to your parents' house. They will not miss you. "
Brad's breath suspended. His hands clawed against the tabletop. He was dizzy and he felt nausea crawling up at him. The giant man smiled knowingly and Brad also knew. He knew it, because he had seen it. A few days ago he had had a dream, he thought. A disturbingly vivid dream, but so absurd that he had dismissed it as a fantasy.
A man in a uniform had rung his parents' door. In his hand he held a crumpled, blood-spattered bundle of clothes. When his mother opened the door and saw the clothes, she clapped her hands over her mouth and screamed. His father appeared at the door. The uniformed man said something and the two stepped back to let him in. The door closed again. Shortly after, you heard two shots.
"Bastard!" Brad shouted and jumped up to pounce at Vertigo. "You killed them."
The giant shoved him hard and threw him back onto the seat. Tears clouded Brad's eyes. He did not have the strength to get up again.
"Technically, that's probably true," Vertigo admitted . "We can not afford witnesses. But do you know what the police will think if they find the bodies of your parents with your bloody clothes in the house and you gone missing? Think about it, Bradley. "
Vertigo stood and left Brad alone with his misery. His world had been shattered and he was sitting in the shards. He could not go back. He would be imprisoned. They would not believe him. The only thing left was to look ahead. Into the future. A bitter smile crept onto his lips. The future. Which irony. The thing that scared him the most, was the only thing left to him.
The airplane suddenly jerked as it went deeper. Clouds passed in front of the round windows. A mountain range appeared. Majestic, snow-capped peaks with deep, rugged valleys. Dark woods that stretched far up the slopes. Valleys with miniature cities shining in red and white. A large, glass-blue lake swarmed with small, white boats appeared and disappeared behind them as the small plane approached the landing pad. A short run, in the middle of no-man's-land in the great mountainous landscape, a tiny hangar and dozens of black uniformed guards patrolling the edge of the airstrip. Next to the control tower he spotted an off-road vehicle waiting. There was a rumble as the wheels touched the ground.
Vertigo pushed himself into Brad's field of vision. He nodded to him. "So, my boy, here we are. Welcome to Rosenkreuz."