"Don't worry. I hit the side of her neck, not the back. So for now, she is only risking a mild headache upon waking up."
The calm voice and the gun pointing down at Liz shake me out of my daze. And I totally snap out of my surprise when something is thrown onto the kitchen counter before me.
A zip. Black. Dark like the veil that suddenly fell upon me, my sister… my life.
Raising my head, I'm met with a calm look:
"Put it on. I trust you not to play any trick."
When I don't immediately get to it, he speaks again, and I would not be surprised if he has training in psychology, at least battle and war psychology, because his words cement the helplessness drowning my heart:
"Even though you can read minds, which should be impossible, you won't be able to react, so no need trying to be smart. And I have ways to keep my thoughts secure long enough to make you unable to preempt anything."
Saying that, he calmly raises his gun, his eyes still on me, and takes out a silencer from a sheath whose image I can read in his mind, beside the holster where his gun had been kept. With unhurried gestures, he installs it at the tip of the gun.
"Now, calmly put that on, and don't play any game. Don't think about anything else."
With a dry mouth, and a somewhat hazy mind, I look down at the zip, then at Liz, then at 'Mike'. In his calm gaze, there are enough restraints that his thoughts don't fly out on their own, kept under a lid that can only be consciously pried, unlike the first time I met him.
I take a breath, and take the zip. I pass my hands through it, and pull the tip to fasten it. I look at 'Mike'. He nods, and points to the side.
"Go sit there."
That is the couch in the reading area. From there, the open living room can be seen, and the couch itself will be visible from almost everywhere on the first floor.
I can't resist, not right now. Thoughts of resistance can't even come to me. I look at Liz on the floor, and walk to the couch to sit down without any abrupt gesture.
'Mike' keeps his expression unchanged. He bends down, and takes another zip which he ties Liz's hands with behind her back. His hands on her disgust me, the repulsion such that rage rises to my throat, but I swallow it down and keep looking at him.
I take a light breath and force my mind to resume working. First of all, 'Mike' is part of an organization. That much, I can be sure of. Only, I can say whether it is official or unofficial. If it is the latter, the crisis today will become smaller, even if only a little, so long as he is resolved. But if it is the former…
My heart is pressed down by the weight of that possibility, but I force my hands to remain on the armrest, where they can be seen clearly. I force myself not to think further about that first possibility, because I feel that it is the most probable, and also the most despairing.
I take another breath. 'Mike' looks too calm, so he may have experience, or training, and not just in psychology. Military training, or something like that.
*Zip*
He tightens the dark bracelet on the joined wrists of my sister's unconscious form, and stands up. He faces me, and I know… that he is about to start, and the prelude to hell's opening is over. So I take the initiative:
"What do you want? Who are you, and why did you get close to my sister? Why did you attack her?"
He looks at me, then without answering me, walks to the side to grab a chair which he brings before me, and sits down, his weighty hand resting between his thigh on the edge of the piece of furniture. He looks at me, impassive, but that makes me fall silent. Under my forced composure, we face each other for a while, before he speaks:
"Since when can you read minds?"
Ba-Dump
My heart skips a beat. I fail to suppress the slight twitch on my face. I glance at Liz on the ground, fearing the cold of the floor for a moment, before I look back at 'Mike':
"I don't know what you are talking about."
'Mike' looks at me, then shakes his head:
"You know. If you didn't, you would have shown surprise, then incredulity, or anger at the unfairness of something you know nothing about causing your life to come crashing down. But you simply denied it, so you know."
I almost choke, with my heart rising to my throat. The fear I have suppressed comes back, and he must have seen it in my eyes, because he leans back and calmly continues:
"I said earlier not to read my mind. Not only would it be difficult, but also useless, because you would not be able to react, nor would you be able to get real-time information from my mind. At that time, you took those words for granted. You didn't show surprise, incomprehension, or disbelief, only helplessness… and despair."
'Mike' tilts his head slightly, and calmly pierce through me with his dim green eyes, scalding my frail heart more than a hot metal can.
I seem to hear a cracking sound from my defense breaking slowly, but surely. I look at Liz's unmoving body, and raise my head to keep my tears where they are, before I look at 'Mike' again. My voice a little hoarse, and a little hollow, I asked quietly:
"Why?"
He raises his eyebrows, so I reiterate, more clearly this time:
"Why are you doing this? What can you get out of it?"
It can't be because I am a mind reader. That would be too simple, and asinine, an answer only a fool would swallow. Tyne, he had been, no, he is a mind reader, and he has done some of the worst things one can do with that extraordinary ability. But until a few months ago, he, who has only ever been discreet enough to hide his pedophilia, has never been trouble. He had been arrogant, replete of a feeling of superiority with little to no foundation. So why me? Why the accident that killed dad and mom, and the one that killed grandpa and grandma?
Why?
Why, when I have tried to leave the abyss alone?
Why?