Captivity

Emma fingered through the pages of the assignment. She always envied her mother and father, the ability to do their work, and to her what looked like to not have any follow-ups. No homework, no tests. It seemed glorious to her. She was your typical nine-year-old, homework, extracurricular activities, drama. Except for she wasn’t. Emma was gifted, something only her parents and she knew about. She could heal wounds with a touch of her hand, something none of her friends could do, or at least none of them have told her.

An almost typical girl, in a demanding world of snakes and snares. She had never told anyone about her ability besides her parents, who told her not to tell a soul. Including her sister, Madison.
It was already dark out, almost midnight and her eyes were weary. She plopped her assignment into her bag and zipped it tight.

Then she heard it. A sound that pierced her ears. Two blood-curdling screams. One from her mother, and one from her father.

Emma was terrified, terrified that the worst had happened. She was terrified there was a murder in the house. She walked over to a shelf and grabbed a flashlight and a glass frame. Not that it would do much, She thought, but at least it would be something in case someone was really here. She quietly opened her door and stepped into the halls, which she navigated to the living room, where she hid behind a sofa. She then crept behind the kitchen counter, and past the laundry room.

She opened the door to her parent's room to see them both lying lifeless. She quickly looked around the room and saw no one, and if no one jumped at her surely she was safe. She eyed a gun next to her father, and picked it up, exchanging it for her picture frame. She held the gun in front of her, safety off. She turned on her flashlight, sweeping around the room, and saw no one, she couldn’t decide if she liked that or not. She then moved near the closet, ready to open the door, when someone jumped at her, their own gun in hand.

A woman with lush brown hair was dressed in all black, from her combat top to her boots, and was armed with a gun of her own.

“D-Drop your weapon.” Emma shakily said, her voice already quivering.

“Drop yours first, Emma, I’m not here to hurt you I promise.”

Emma drew a shaky breath before saying, “N-No, I will not D-Drop my weapon. You will drop Y-Yours.”

She could already tell she was going to lose this argument, but she pressed on with the woman, knowing she couldn’t even shoot when it came to it.

“Get out of my house,” Emma stated, “or I will s-shoot you.”

She glanced at her parents, before realizing she had taken her eyes off of the black-clad woman. But the woman didn’t make a move towards her. She simply stayed where she was, a passive mask over her face.

Looking back at the woman, Emma drew a shaky breath, and then let it out. I’m still alive, She thought.

Then, all in a matter of seconds, she was lifted off the ground, the BANG! Of the gun went off, the lamp on her parent's dresser shattered, and then the gun was out of her hands, and she had a pair of more black-clad arms wrapped around her like a vice. She was now at the mercy of the woman, and the person behind her.

The woman holstered her gun and put her hands up, where Emma could still see her. She twisted and turned, but her tiny body was too small to even imagine getting out of the captor’s arms. She tried lifting her legs up and putting her full weight onto the captor, but she simply felt the vice-like arms tighten, and her ribs hurt from the pressure. So she crossed that idea off the list and put her legs back down.

The woman took a gentle step closer, but kept her hands in the air, even though Emma couldn’t do anything if the woman put them down, or even shot at her.

“See,” She said gently, “I’m not going to hurt you, Emma.”

“How do you know m-my n-name?” Emma said barely even audible.

“I just do,” She said gently, and then sternly said something into a microphone attached to her shirt, and more people stepped in, Most of them with their faces covered, some of them with accent colors. Emma’s breathing rapidly increased, and she let out a small whimper.

Someone dressed in red accent colors with a cross as their insignia, presumably a medic, stepped over a kit in their hands. Emma was scared of all the masks, and she let out another whimper when the woman and the medic took another step toward her.

“Emma, this is one of our field medic squad leaders, she’s going to have her friends take a look at your parents and make sure they’re okay, and she is going to come help us with some things. We’re here to help.”

Emma started thrashing against the person holding her but to no avail. The medic took another slow few steps near her, and reached up and brushed some of the hair that was dangling in her face behind her captor's arm and behind her ear, the cold leather of her gloved hands brushing against Emma’s face.

“Hi Emma,” Said an all too clear feminine voice to be coming through her mask, which even up close was too tinted to see her facial features.

“I want to go to my p-parents,” Emma stuttered, “you could try to do anything with me now and I will fight you until I d-die, or you could allow me to touch my parents, feel their heartbeat, and I will come peacefully.”

The woman's face showed her thinking, before she said, “Okay, but really quick, then we’re going to talk with the medic.” Her voice was full of caring, like she was talking to a young child, promising everything would be alright.

The arms let go of her torso and grabbed one of her arms. Emma looked up to see yet another mask, sending a chill down her spine.

She walked as fast as the person would let her, finally kneeling next to her parents. She looked at the dart in their legs, and pulled them out, running a finger over the pinprick of blood, sealing the wound. She felt their heartbeat, and took a deep breath in, laying between them, her head next to theirs.

“Okay,” Said the black-clad woman after a moment, nodding to the person holding Emma, then the arms wrapped around her again, pulling her with them. She screamed and cried at being pulled from her parents as a newborn would its mother. But she didn't care. She wanted to go back and lay with them until they woke back up.

“Shh, Emma. It’s time to act like a really big girl, and listen to us.”

But Emma didn’t care, she just closed her eyes tight, hoping this was all a dream, as the person holding her walked past the bed and into her parent’s bathroom. The medic pulled over some towels from the closets and pillows from the bed, just barging right into Emma’s life. She laid some long ways and set the pillow at one end, making a small makeshift bed. Another guard stepped in and assisted the one already holding her, setting her head gently on the pillow, and then stepping only slightly away from her.

As the medic stepped over and knelt beside Emma, she began to set up her kit. Emma saw a few needles attached to small tubes, and then fat syringes filled with a white liquid.

The medic grabbed a tray and stood it up next to the makeshift bed and placed an alcohol pad, one of the needle tubes, and one of the syringes with the thick white liquid on the tray.
Emma stared worryingly at the medic’s mask, the thing terrified her.

“Is my mask bothering you?” Asked the medic.

Emma just simply nodded, her teary blue eyes showing the terror she felt. Her sweaty hands and small, trembling body also showed her fear of not only the mask but the entire situation. She tried to sit up slowly but was gently pushed back onto the pillow by her captors.

The medic placed something snugly on her finger, and looked up at the woman in black “Permission to take my mask off? I feel it will help with the situation.”

The woman looked around the room before saying, “Go ahead.”

The medic took off her mask with a ksshh, revealing a young adult with blond hair tied in a ponytail and soft features with blue eyes similar to Emma’s. She flashed Emma a warm smile and began to wipe her arm with a sanitary wipe.

Everything was happening so quickly, Emma barely registered the fact that some unknown people were going to inject a random substance into her arm.

The needle with the short tube then went into her arm, and Emma let out a loud cry.

“You’re doing great, Emma!” The medic said, picking up the syringe with the white stuff inside it. Emma started squirming, her hands shooting up and batting away the syringe. The medic set down the syringe and guided her hands back onto the towel, slowly and gently.

“It’s okay to be scared,” she said, “I have seen grownups who do a lot worse than you! You are such a brave girl! Do you want to know what’s going to happen next?”

Emma quickly nodded her head, glancing at the tube in her arm that slightly jiggled when she moved, even though it hurt her.

“Okay,” The medic said. “Next thing I’m going to do is hook up my magic tube with the white medicine in it to the tube that’s in your arm. Then I’m going to ask you to sing a song or count, and the medicine will put you to sleep, but only for a little while. Then when you wake up, whoever is with you will tell you more.” She explained it clearly, but that didn’t change Emma’s mind. She couldn’t let them do this to her.

The medic placed Emma’s arm where the tube was accessible, and she steadied her hand and grabbed the syringe.

Then, in her sweet voice, she said “Remember what I told you earlier? You’re going to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ for me, and just stay relaxed.”

Emma was sweating profusely and looked around the room. The two masked people who held her before were on her left, the medic and medicine on the right, the window and tub behind her, and the door with the woman in black in front of her.

Then the medic hooked the syringe into the tube, but before she pressed the plunger, Emma jumped up, ripping her wires and tubes off her in the process. She turned towards the window and felt a hand touch her arm, but she moved so quickly, fueled by adrenaline, and it couldn’t hold her.
The scene was one of chaos, the woman in black getting ready to run to Emma, the medic jumping up towards Emma, the guards behind her, trying to get her back down, and then there was Emma, one foot on the tub’s rim, her hands propelling her forward. She stepped to the other side of the tub, and then placed one foot on the window sill, turning in mid-air, falling back through the glass of the first story window, the tiny pieces sticking her, and cutting her. She falls backward doing what looked like a reverse dive and tumbles onto the grass, crying, her leg clearly at an unnatural angle, her body cut from head to toe.

Then, out of nowhere, more masked people swarm around her, people who hadn’t been in the room before, they crowd her, pinning every part of her body to the ground, some of them pushing glass that had been on her skin further into her body. The crushing weight of everyone holding her down felt like someone had placed ton after ton on each of her limbs. There were leather gloves holding each of her ankles, lining her legs, pinning her arms, holding her chest down and a few keeping her head firmly on the ground.

Emma screamed and cried in agony, pleading with them to loosen their grips and let her go, but it was all in vain. Nothing loosened, nothing got lighter, and shards of glass pushed deeper and deeper into her body.

The woman in black and the medic followed sprinting shortly after, the medic already laying her tray back out.

“Calm down Emma! You’re safe! We’re helping you!” The woman shouted at Emma, her voice losing the touch of childish tone, practically screaming at the young girl.

The medic moved one of the people holding Emma down aside, and started brushing glass off a patch of her skin, then wiped it down twice with the wipes. Emma attempted to fight, but all she managed was a small roll here and there as there were too many people holding her down. The next thing she knew, the tube was in her arm again, a different one than before.

“Relax and count, Emma, it will make it feel better and painless. Relax and count,” The medic said while inserting the syringe, still with her highly soothing tone, but everything was a blur to Emma. Simply a mesh of voices and colors.

The second the liquid made its way into the tube and therefore Emma, her body started to still, a small tremble remaining.

“Please,” said Emma, her voice sounding tired already. “Please don’t hurt my par…ents. Ple…as…e don’t hurt me. I d…id nothing wrong to deserve this… Please don’t do it… Please… don’t… do… thi…” her voice got soft and weak toward the end until it eventually faded completely.

“Emma? Can you hear me?” The medic asked, but received no response, as Emma was unconscious now, laying limp, completely at the mercy of the strange people.

“Relieve pressure,” the medic finally said, losing her gentle tone and placing the mask back on herself. “She’s out.”

The masked figures all loosen at once, exposing Emma’s tattered clothes and cut skin, a small pool of blood slowly forming around her from her wounds.

Now it was the woman in black’s turn to speak again. “How much time on the parent’s sedative clock?”

“About three of four hours remaining.” One of the figures responded instantaneously.

“Alright,” she said in a professional tone,“Medic Preston you are with me in the van. I also want two Delta with us and two Beta. Swift-6 Moppers, I want you on clean up, and I need an incident report on that window by Friday. Move out! The entity has been recovered and is awaiting class assignment and designation.”