The man laughed softly. “You don’t believe me?” He crouched to study Jaden’s face. “PK is an amazing thing. But there is a small catch to it. Go on.” He stood again. “Do something to me. Try to kill me.”
Jaden pulled himself into a sitting position, his body aching. He heard the man’s heart beating a slow, relaxed rhythm. Steady. Jaden stood to be equal in height. He wasn’t going to be looked down upon and made inferior.
He couldn’t so much hear the man’s heart but feel it—all he had to do was reach out and squeeze it. The man’s face was confident. A trace of the smile he’d shown when he’d sent electric shocks through Jaden’s body still remained on his lips. It was an expression Dalton would’ve never shown.
Don’t do it.
But why not? This man needed to be taught a lesson. Jaden wasn’t a dog performing neat tricks. He was tired of being belittled, being mistreated and abused at the hands of the less powerful. It was a mistake he made with Dalton. He should’ve killed him when he had the chance, run out the door, killed anyone in his way, and left this place. Freedom had been so close. What stopped him? Pity? Fear? Well not anymore. There was nothing stopping him now. It was time to call the man’s bluff.
Jaden reached for the man’s heart, his mind wrapping around it like a hard fist.
The painful pulse of burning electricity coursed through his body again. Undiluted pain so strong he couldn’t remember anything, ripped through him, knocking him back to the floor. The fire burned all over him, inside him, to the tips of his fingers. A loud and sharp scream ripped through his throat. He writhed on the floor, twitching and thrashing against the agony. When his head felt like it would explode, it ended.
Jaden rolled on his side, his breathing ragged, his throat sore from shrieking. Jaden’s vision was blurred from tears he didn’t remember crying.
The man laughed. He paced around Jaden, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Dalton was right when he said PK is like any other function of your body. Synapses in your brain fire up before you use it. Neurons start communicating, there’s a chain reaction, et cetera, et cetera. So anytime your brain spools up, if you will, I know. You see, unlike the last collar, this one is tapped into your central nervous system. The moment you consider using PK, I know.” He kneeled and looked into Jaden’s eyes, and whispered: “It’s one of life’s little bonuses: there’s a method to everything.”
Jaden shifted positions so he could rest his cheek on the floor. His whole body was hot and sore, and the cool soft ground soothed his skin. The man continued pacing around him. Jaden got his knees underneath him and sat up. His arms and legs trembled.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” the man said.
Jaden said nothing. He wasn’t going to give the man the satisfaction of an answer. He knew exactly what this was—a test of wills. He wanted to break Jaden, to get control over him, like Dalton had. But he wouldn’t give in. Jaden meant what he said. This man would have to kill him, because he wouldn’t surrender. His pride and mind were all Jaden had, and this man wouldn’t take them from him.
“I asked you a direct question, and you will answer it,” the man said calmly.
Jaden sat and wrapped his shaking arms around his legs. He stared at a spot on the wall ahead of him, keeping his mouth closed.
The man smirked and sighed. “You’re not going to be taken, eh? You think I’ll kill you first?”
Silence.
“That’s a pity.” He walked to the observation mirror and knocked it with his fist. “I admire your resolve, Jaden, though I will have to do something about it. Fortunately for me, I had this planned. You should know my resolve is stronger than yours. Age and wisdom,” he said, tapping his temple, “have taught me patience. If you’d seen what I’d seen, and know what I know, then you’d answer the question. You’re young and have much to learn.” He put his hands in his pants pockets and licked his lips. “You see, pain can accomplish a lot of things. There’s discipline, dominance, and of course, humiliation. Remember I offered the easy road, and you chose the pain. There’s no turning back now.”
Jaden glared at him.
The small elevator lowered, carrying two men Jaden hadn’t seen before. His assumptions were correctthey hired a new staff. The last group took pity on Jaden, and one slipped him the door code to help him escape. Moving him to a new facility with a new staff made sense.
Both men were tall, well muscled. The first had light brown hair and dark eyes, which held no sympathy. The second had thin cheeks and blonde spiked hair. He looked at Jaden like a spider would a fly struggling in his web. These men were not like his last handlers—they were not afraid of him.
“Malcolm and Curtis, this is Jaden.” The man turned to Jaden and smiled. “And this is Malcolm,” he said, pointing to the man with brown hair, “and Curtis,” he pointed to the blonde haired man. “Jaden is being disobedient and I would like him taken to room D please.”
Malcolm raised his eyebrows. “It’s set to automatic?” He had a southern accent.
The man chuckled. “Oh yes. He’s quite harmless.”
Malcolm and Curtis advanced on Jaden. But he wasn’t harmless. He might not be able to use his mind, but he still had his fists. Alan had taught him well.
The moment the two men neared, Jaden jumped, spreading his legs for balance, lowering his hips. Malcolm was prepared. He pulled a rod from his belt and hit the back of Jaden’s legs, knocking him to the floor.
“Careful, gentlemen.”
Ignoring the throbbing pain in the back of his knees, Jaden squirmed out of Malcolm’s reach, blocking himself in the corner. Curtis cautiously moved forward and reached for Jaden.
Instinct took over, and before he could stop it, his mind reacted in defense. For the third time, the unendurable pain shot through him, like knives stabbing him. When Jaden realized the pain was over, Malcolm and Curtis had pinned him to the ground, binding his hands and legs. They picked him up and carried him to the elevator. The stranger was gone, presumably in room D.
With three of them crammed in the tiny space, the platform rose, carrying them to the top. Jaden thrashed, trying to bite them with Dr. Claire’s straightened teeth. But he couldn’t reach.
Up top was a hallway with several doors, none of which opened by key code. They all had common door knobs instead. Curtis and Malcolm carried Jaden to the door labeled with a plastic “D.” Socks slippery on the floor, Jaden’s pushing and bracing was a useless attempt at resistance.
The man paced the inside of the room, one hand in his pocket, the other on a thin wooden rod. A strange stone cylinder was rooted in the middle of the room, the flat surface at an angle, manacles bolted to its center. Jaden struggled against his captors, frantically running backwards, his feet sliding on the slick floor. He fought his instinct to use psychokinesis—it would worsen his situation. Curtis removed the handcuffs then he and Malcolm forced Jaden’s wrists in the manacles on the slanted platform. Once secured, they stepped back, and the stranger stepped forward, looking down on Jaden.
The platform was such a height Jaden could neither stand nor kneel. Clearly it had been designed for his discomfort. Already it achieved its purpose. Jaden tugged at the manacles—the short chains would not budge. His heart raced as his mind put the pieces together.
“Now,” began the man, leaning to see into Jaden’s eyes, “this is what we’re going to do. Between the three of us, we can keep this going for a long time, until you do as I say. The minute you obey my command, we stop. Unfortunately the pain will continue. However, I am not unreasonable. We will take you to the onsite physician to get you mended, because trust me, you’ll need it,” he said with a soft snicker. “Unlike the electric collar, this will leave a mark.”
Jaden’s heart hammered. He had never been so vulnerable in his life. Whenever a tough situation arose, psychokinesis always came to his rescue. If not, the fear that he was capable of something worse kept people from harming him further.
Now he was defen
seless. His greatest ally was against him. Nothing could help him. His mouth dried and his legs shook.
“Are you listening, Jaden?” the man asked.
Jaden ground his teeth and looked up at him.
“Good. We need to establish our relationship. Dalton took years and never got you under control. You’ll find I’m less patient. It’s very clear to me what the two of us are, but you need to be convinced of it. So I need for you to say it. That’s all. Just a few words to establish who I am and who you are. Can you do that?”
Jaden said nothing.
The man smirked and motioned to Malcolm, who cut off Jaden’s shirt with scissors, ripping it from his back.
Jaden’s breathing became shallow and loud. He could not think of a way out of this, and surrender was not an option. If Jaden gave this man what he wanted, that would be the end. Jaden would not be dominated, not now, not ever. He wasn’t going to give in. He wasn’t going to give in. He wasn’t going to give in…
“Jaden, are you ready?” the man asked casually.
Don’t show fear, it’s what he wants.
Too late. He knew what was coming. There was nothing he could do but fight for his will, for his pride.
“Jaden, I am your master and you are my slave.” The man’s lips twitched, yet he did not smile. “That’s all you have to say. Tell me I am your master and you are my slave.”
Something more than fear ripped through Jaden’s chest. He was the one with the power. If this man didn’t have an electric shock collar around Jaden’s neck, Jaden could reign destruction on this entire building, killing everyone in it.
“Say it Jaden.”
Jaden took a deep breath and looked deep into the man’s eyes. “Go to hell you fucking bastard.”
The man sighed and shook his head. “Always taking the hard road. Very well.” He held up his hands to Malcolm.
Jaden shut his eyes and braced himself. There was no time to take a breath. Malcolm struck his back with the rod so hard it knocked the air from his lungs. The stinging burn was more shocking than the force of the blow. He bit his lower lip to keep from crying in pain, then Malcolm hit him again and again. Jaden pulled against the chains. Malcolm hit him again, harder this time, and lower on his back. Jaden grunted and pulled his arms more urgently. He had to get free. Malcolm hit him again. Hot tears welled in his eyes, so he forced his eyes closed as he endured four more strikes.
The stranger was right. The pain was throbbing, the stinging intensified, even after Malcolm stopped. He bit his lip so forcefully it went numb. He struggled to stay upright, his feet slipping underneath him.
“That was ten, Jaden. Tell me that I’m your master and you are my slave, and it ends. If you don’t say it, Curtis will hit you twenty times, for a grand total of thirty lashes.”
He wouldn’t give in. Not ever. He would pass out from the pain before he said anything.
Jaden growled and snapped his eyes open. “I’ll kill you. I will fucking kill you, you sick sonofabitch!”
The man nodded to Curtis.
Jaden held out for seven, he could not restrain the screams for the remaining thirteen. Tears streamed down his face, and blood dripped down his back, into his pants, down his legs. His whole body shook, the chains rattling against the concrete platform.
“Say it, Jaden. Say you are my slave.”
Jaden groaned and pulled himself up as best he could. His vision was blurred, but his voice was clear. “You are my slave,” he said acidly.
The man sighed again, then took a flat canister from his coat pocket labeled SALT. “I assume you’ve heard the adage, ‘like salt in an open wound’ but probably never experienced it. I don’t appreciate your cheek.”
Jaden heard the canister open and tip, the contents pouring. Jaden screamed so loud and long his voice cracked. The man rubbed the salt into Jaden’s back. Surely he would faint. The pain was too much, he couldn’t do this forever. His body would shut down. He needed to black out, escape this terrible misery. He wanted to die. There was no reason to live, no future worth living for.
The man was done with offers, and the torture continued for what felt like hours. Jaden wasn’t even bothering to stand. He hung from his wrists, now cut and bloody too, as Malcolm and Curtis beat him, losing neither strength nor enthusiasm.
Then Jaden’s vision faded. The room darkened, the pain lessened. He was passing out, or dying, either would suffice. He welcomed it, whatever it was, unconsciousness or death. If only it could’ve come sooner. The beating stopped, or the pain was diminishing because he was slipping out of space and time, he couldn’t tell which.
He heard the man’s voice in his ear: “Oh no you don’t,” he said, laughing.
A new pain in his neck pinched him. Then suddenly and quite clearly, he was awake again, the pain came back more intense than before. The man walked back to his former place and held up an empty syringe. “Ah the power of drugs, eh slave?” He laughed.
Jaden’s voice cracked as he cried. His body quaked from the wracking sobs he couldn’t control. This was the worst. This man couldn’t inflict more pain than he already had. It was so much Jaden couldn’t think clearly, couldn’t conjure enough coherence to remember why he was here.
“Clearly I underestimated your tenacity,” the man said. “So I’ll have to try something else.” He summoned his two men.
Malcolm and Curtis stretched Jaden’s fingers and laid them flat against the platform. Jaden shook his head and tried pleading for them to stop, but the dread rendered him mute. He yanked against the chains, but like before, they didn’t come loose. His wrists and arms were coated in blood.
“This will hurt a lot,” the man said. “You know how to make this stop. You are torturing yourself.”
Before Jaden could ask him to stop, the man raised the rod in his hand and struck Jaden’s fingers. The pain splintered, shot through his hands and ripped out of him. He shrieked in agony as the man hammered Jaden’s knuckles and the back of his hands, breaking and shattering the bones within. Blood splattered Jaden’s bare chest and face, mixing with his sweat and hot tears.
“Stop, stop, stop!” Jaden cried, unable to recognize his own voice.
The man held the rod high. “Yes?” he said.
Jaden looked at his swollen, bloody, and mutilated hands, his thrashed wrists. It hurt to think, to breath, to move, to live. He couldn’t do this. There was no pride left to salvage. This man would keep hurting Jaden, but wouldn’t kill him. There was nothing for it.
Just say it. Let him win.
Then he’d have everything. He’d have the control.
You cannot win this one, and he knows it. Give him what he wants.
Jaden’s sobs eased, the pain did not. The beatings would be nothing to the soreness which would linger for weeks. He couldn’t suffer anymore, not if he could help it.
“Do you have something to say, or should I break your legs as well?”
“No,” Jaden mumbled, “no, please don’t.”
“Then you need to stick to your part of the deal.”
He tried calming his breathing, but his lungs burned, and every effort he made sent a fresh wave of pain across his back.
“I’m waiting patiently,” the man said.
Jaden glared into his cold eyes. He licked his dry, cracked and bleeding bottom lip. He didn’t realize how thirsty he was. Nothing would change unless he gave in.
They’re just words.
Tears continued dripping down his blood spattered face as he mumbled, barely moving his lips, “You’re my master.” He took a small shallow breath. “I’m you’re slave,” he whispered, looking down at his gnarled, throbbing hands, his lacerated wrists, away from those eyes.
The man took a deep breath and stood to his full height. “Say it again so Malcolm and Curtis can hear clearly.”
Jaden shivered and swallowed. “You’re my master and I’m your slave,” he said a little louder than before, his voice breaking.
The man chuck
led as he leaned over, his hands on his knees. “Now look at me.”
Jaden looked up.
“I want you to thank Malcolm and Curtis for helping you learn a lesson. They are both very tired and would’ve rather done something else. Say ‘thank you Malcolm and Curtis for teaching me my lesson.’”
Jaden groaned in pain. His body burned. “Thank you Malcolm and Curtis for teaching me a lesson,” he muttered.
The man nodded and smiled at him. “Good boy.” He patted Jaden’s sweat-soaked head, then stood. “Unlock him and take him to the infirmary.”
Malcolm unlocked the manacles with a key from around his neck. Jaden slipped to the floor and couldn’t find the strength to get up. He lay in a puddle of his own sweat and blood; the smell made him nauseous. Malcolm and Curtis hoisted him by his elbows and dragged him out the room and down the hall to a room at the end.
Inside was a bed, but they didn’t take him there.
“Good God, what did you do to him?” asked a new voice.
It was the man who answered. “We had our first lesson today, Sam. That’s why I called you in. I need you to mend him. I’m pretty sure I’ve broken a few of the bones in his hands. The wounds are mostly superficial. First I think the boys should clean him up.”
Which is exactly what they did. Jaden didn’t have the strength to move, or the will to fight anymore today. So he didn’t argue when Curtis cut off his pants and dropped him on the cold cement floor. Malcolm turned on the faucet and sprayed Jaden with lukewarm water. It stung. He curled into a ball around the drain and watched his blood spiral into the grate. Curtis lathered his latex-gloved hands with liquid soap and rubbed it all over Jaden’s body. Jaden moaned and cried, begging them to stop, but he barely understood himself. It wasn’t over soon enough. They pat him dry then picked him up and lay him face down on the only bed in the room.
“No morphine,” the man said. “He brought this onto himself. Tie him down with restraints and plug you ears when he screams.”
Jaden Baker Page 19