Esper Chapter 9: Into the Cold

Part 1

“You’re late…but at this point, I’m used to you being late; which is why I extended our session appropriately.” Sitting back in her expensive leather chair, the psychologist welcomed Amala Singh into her warmly lit, and inviting office. “Have you not been sleeping well? Are the nightmares back?” Without a word, Amala plopped down onto the couch and laid back in her purple sweats, a detached stare plaguing her. “Do you not want to chat today? It would be a shame since we’ve made so much progress. We’ve moved past the Newtonville lights, past you getting your first real job with your department, heck we even spoke about you dancing.”

“You know, Lidia, I…danced today, actually.” In astonishment, the therapist witnessed a small smile coming across Amala’s typically sullen face.

“OK, tell me about it.”

“A friend came over…and he was…”

“Friend? Who would that friend be?”

“Um…” Amala questioned herself. (How much should I tell her? I guess I can just talk about the dancing.) She decided. “Nicolaus.” Said with all the confidence of a child called before the principal.

“Nicolaus…Thompson? I had no idea you two were close.”

“…We…” Considering the state of their relationship gave Amala pause, a she’d not done so before. (Nicolaus and I are friends, right? I…am I overstepping boundaries, right?)

“...”Amala’s hesitation was palpable. Feeling a need to break down the girl’s walls of trepidation, the therapist, Lidia, spoke up. “He seems like a fine young man. I’ve met him before, very shy though.”

“Yes, Lidia! He is!” Enthusiasm, unlike Lidia had seen before, sparked in Amala’s eyes! “To think, he said didn’t know how to dance! Can you believe that?!” Amala rose from her slumped posture on the couch, brimming with elation! Thinking about dancing with someone warmed Amala’s chest with a familiar, long lost nostalgia. “Having to teach him how to dance…he acted so much like Chelsea.” Once again, her thin shoulders drooped.

“Chelsea is someone you mentioned before. You said she wasn’t around anymore, is it right to assume she’s…”

“Chelsea is dead. She died years ago…my best friend, my big sister.” Amala had accepted that fact. Death was the end of the line. No moving forward, or looking back.

“Big sister? I thought you only had a little brother.”

“She was more family to me than my brother, my mom…and definitely my dad.”

“From the interactions we’ve discussed with your father, it doesn’t sound like you have many warm figures left in your life.”

“Warm…” That word only brought to mind four faces. “...Lidia, you looked into me, right? Did you find anything about Ms. Helga’s boarding school for girls?”

“If not for you mentioning it multiple times, I’d have zero idea of the connection you shared with that…incident.”

“Advantage of being a minor at the time. All the interviewers who came up to me after Newtonville were also none the wiser.”

“Amala, this has been a sticking point in all of our previous sessions too. You never speak about this point in your life. Reading up on the incident, I can infer your connection; however, I’d like to hear from you about what happened.”

“...” The warmth persisted in her chest, though she feared it be doused as it often would be, by the harsh cold brought on by memories of her long turbulent past. Amala prayed that warmth could withstand a dip into those murky days from long ago. “No one believed me when I told them years ago. They said I was…remembering things wrong, that dates and times didn’t match up, that I was lying! Will you hear me out…?”

Part 2

Life under my father’s roof was suffocating. “Amala, why can’t you cook yet?!” He had expectations for what kind of daughter I should’ve been, and I didn’t measure up. “A girl your age must be able to cook! Karthika, teach her! She will never find a husband like this!” He didn’t bother to understand me! My father had grown up in a different world, in a different time. “Amala, I fought to make money here, to make it so you, your brother and your mother would all have a happy life, but you have to work hard too!”

“Amala, why did you not attend that young girls meet up? I arranged for you to go!” My mother, Karthika, wanted the perfect daughter, simple. “If you don’t socialize, you’ll never make friends. Never find a good husband!” My parents saw me as a prize on a shelf; something to be won. “You should have a skill…something to make you seem special. We want you to live the American dream! Don’t you want to be happy?” It wasn’t about what I wanted, it was about how we were seen, how they thought they’d be looked at by the world around them! “Amala, you like to dance, right?”

My father, Ramesh, began dragging me to dance classes, to ballet. “You will learn this ballet and dance Swan Lake, that will make you a proper young lady!” I didn’t want to, I liked dancing, but every day was painful and tiring!

He’d drill me at home, running me ragged, while my mother told me to stay beautiful. “Amala, you’re getting too big! You cannot become so muscly, that is not the shape of a woman!” She would screen every piece of food that went in my mouth! “Now you are getting too thin! Amala, how will you make friends if you’re too sickly to play with them? Dear Ramesh, what will we do with this girl?”

They started to resent me, even if not openly. My parents’ focus shifted to my brother until my father found a place for me…a place away from them; Ms. Helga’s boarding school for girls. “You’ll be staying here for a while, Amala.” They saw me off with a smile, expecting I’d come out the perfect little girl ready to be shown off.

My first couple of weeks were lonely. All the other girls had already been friends for years, so I was an outsider. From class, to practice, and eating, all alone, and I loathed it. I begged my mother to come and get me, but she swore it was for my own good! Crying at night, eating in the bathroom stall, changing in the empty locker rooms…I slowly lost hope that I’d ever make friends until…

“Hi…” One of the caretakers introduced a brooding girl, only about 2 years older, to me. “You’re…Amlila? Right?” I was taken aback by the girl’s boyishly short, messy, black hair and constantly angry eyes immediately! The staff wanted us to be friends, as she was interested in ballet too. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m…hey!” I just walked away, going about my business. She had one chance in my mind, and getting my name wrong was an instant fail!

During practice, I noticed her; she was lacking in ability. The instructor spent so much time with her that he didn’t even bother to help me! It was vexing, as I believed that dancing Swan Lake was my way out! He kept her behind and worked with her one night, so I waited for the girl afterwards.

“…” It was the two of us, alone. “…You’re a bad dancer. You should quit!” It just came out! Back then, saying things on my mind was just easier…

She turned to look at me, then walked up and gripped me up by the collar of my shirt! “So, you don’t talk to me for two weeks and this is the first thing you say?” I was scared silent. “You little brat, I should hit you!” That scared me even worse! Frozen in her grasp, with my feet hanging above the ground, idiotically, my mouth kept running!

“W-Why do you even want to do this?! You don’t even look like a ballerina!” Her hair, rough expressions, and muscular frame was more like a boy’s! And as promised, she hit me, lightly on top of the head.

“You’re a brat. Next time, I won’t let you off so easily, but since you finally spoke, this is your freebie.” Humiliating.

Every practice I’d watch the instructor training her, giving her extra attention and her not getting much better. Around most of the other girls, she was so standoffish, only talking with the other scary girls in ballet class. I watched her one night, after the other girls changed and left, trying in vain just to pirouette, until I couldn’t take it anymore! “You’re doing it wrong!” I stepped in, pushing past our instructor! “Like this!” Effortlessly, I pirouetted, because of all the time I’d spent working!

“I-I can do it too!” She tried, and failed, frustrating her and annoying me! We kept trying, again and again for over an hour, until, finally! “How…was that?” At long last, she was able to perform that basic movement!

“Good…you did it!” Drenched in sweat, legs quivering like jelly, we laid on the floor, deathly tired.

“Thanks, Amlila!” Again, she messed up my name!

“Amala! A-MA-LA! My name is Amala Singh!” That outburst must’ve surprised her as much as it did me! The girl began laughing which broke the awkward silence.

“Sorry! Don’t get mad. I’m Chelsea Becke, Amala Singh!”

Part 3

“Don’t be like that.”

“No! I don’t know them! I don’t want to!” After our numerous interactions in ballet practice, Chelsea insisted that I get to know her other friends; since she’d grown overly attached to me.

“Amala, if you’re going to stick to me like this, then you gotta’ meet the girls.” Three other girls, all intimidating in their own unique ways, chatted on the playground. “Hey girls, this is Amala! Amala, this is Sasha, Loran and Patricia!” They were all a bit scary to me. “She’s the one I told you about.”

“Oh, the little Indian girl who’s been stuck to you?” One of them, who turned out to be Loran, asked as she lowered herself from the monkey bars.

“No!” I felt her misgivings needed to be disproved to maintain my image! “She’s the one hanging around me all the time!” I wouldn’t allow anyone to look down on me!

“…I don’t think that’s true.” They’d taken my clutching of Chelsea’s skirt, and using her as a divider to separate us, as if I were a scared child; all misinterpretations, of course!

“Haha! Well, it’s nice to meet you!”

The girls laughed. I was embarrassed, but if Chelsea liked them, I’d at least try to give them a chance. Throughout the rest of the year we all practiced day in and day out! Sasha, Loran and Patricia all had some ballet talent, though Chelsea always struggled. Because of that, I’d spend time with her after practice to get in extra reps. There were many nights when the two of us would work late into the evening alongside our instructor to make sure Chelsea was keeping up. The girls would normally wait for us or even join in; because as I learned, all five were from a group home. They’d begun living at Ms. Helga’s boarding school for girls since the group home had almost completely abandoned them for one reason or another.

“Hey Ama, wait here! Those bitches down the block started talking reckless again!” Occasionally, Sasha would lead the girls into big fights with other groups of girls in town. She was bigger and stronger than most other girls I knew; much like Chelsea she treated me like a little sister.

“We weren’t even there. We were with Amala in their room, right Amala?” Loran had one of the best poker faces ever, excellent at keeping me safe and out of trouble.

“Ammy! I love your hair SO much! Let me braid it!” Patricia was so pretty. She’d spend tons of time on her own, the others’, and my hair. I thought she’d have made a great stylist! “I’m so jelly! You don’t need make up, or even have to worry about split ends.”

“You’re right. She will absolutely make a perfect lead for Swan Lake.” Hearing that come from our instructor dumped a truck load of excitement, anxiety and hope on my tiny shoulders! “Amala, I think you should be the lead. You’ll have to spend extra time training with me, but I’ve seen that you’re driven, more than anyone! You have a drive that will take you very far in the world of dance.” I almost screamed with joy! It was what I wanted, to show my father and mother that I was progressing, my worth! All the girls knew how I felt, I’d told them before, so when the instructor finally recognized my hard work, I looked to them, hoping for cheers! I didn’t get them.

Chelsea and the others all looked crushed…or maybe the right word would have been disheartened. At the time, I believe it was because they wanted the spotlight for themselves. “Good for you, Amala.” My closest friend in the world, Chelsea flashed a wary smile. We spent the rest of the night having a little party to celebrate! That night, for once in the year and a half since I’d started at that school, I didn’t think of my parents, just my new family. Eventually, everyone fell asleep in mine and Chelsea’s room; she and I shared her bed, as the others slept on the other bunk or the floor. She rolled over to me, whispering something, just before I drafted off. “Amala…I’ll protect you. I’m your big sister, after all.” It was a puzzling statement, etched into my memories.

After that, each day became brutal. I was drilled relentlessly by our instructor. Any movement, every meal, all the songs and positioning were scrutinized to the smallest detail, no matter what! Despite all the other girls being around, I was the main focus. He’d keep a close eye on me, watching my every step and ultimately, my every fault. I left those day feeling totally inadequate, and undeserving.

“Amala, stay after practice. I’d like to work with you a bit more.” The others were let out for the day, leaving me alone with him. I’d never worked alone with the instructor, so there was an imposing air about the studio. He began pushing me further and further, harder than I’d ever worked, and I just couldn’t keep up. “I see…” Tangible disappointment. “…I may have to make a few changes…” Scribbling down notes on his clipboard, it made me feel physically sick! “I had…higher hopes.” That was it.

“I’ll get it, I swear! Anything I need to do!” I begged, tears about to break from my eyes!

“Fine…let’s head back to the bar. I think the main issue is your flexibility. Let’s work on that.” Despite thinking that I was the most flexible dancer in the entire troupe, I resolved to do whatever he wanted, unquestionably! “Raise your leg. Point your toes, higher, higher!” He placed his hand on my leg, pushing it up! The discomfort was unbearable; his fingers dug into my thighs and backside, stretching my body to and nearly beyond its limits, but…

“Oh, you’re still here! Cool!” Chelsea burst into the room, still dressed for ballet! “Can you help me with my flexibility too? I need to fix mine.” The instructor released me and we started working with Chelsea as well. We stayed late into the evening, practicing hard, leaving only once we were totally exhausted.

The next day it continued, endlessly difficult training. I was pushed to my limits again. Even with the instructor’s guidance, I wasn’t able to accomplish what was expected of me in class. At night it was just me and the instructor; I was compelled to impress him, to make him see me as a success! “Ama, what are you doing here? I came back for some extra help!” Sasha burst in through the studio door with a crooked smile, inserting herself into our one-on-one lesson!

The day after… “Oh my gosh, Amala! You’re probably exhausted, here! I made some soup for you!” Loran showed up!

Then after that… “I was looking for you, Ammy! You’ve been neglecting your hair! Here, let me fix it!” Patricia came too! By the end of the week, all my friends were showing up to my one-on-one lessons!

“Hm…” The instructor’s disinterested glare, the same as my father’s, bleached my heart of any ounce of hope. “That’s enough for today. You girls all head home with Amala.”

I pulled him to the side, craving the tiniest drop of validation. “Am I…still the lead?!”

“…We’ll see…” My heart dropped. Everything felt like it’d come to stop; like I’d hit the wall.

“…” In our room, I looked at all the pictures I had of us, of me and the girls. Just as I prepared to rip them down from the wall, Chelsea stopped me!

“What are you doing?!” She screamed, her hand so big it eclipsed my tiny wrist.

“You!” I pushed Chelsea with all my might, which didn’t even end of phasing her, really. “You all…why are you doing this?! I’m so close…” The others entering the room made me feel cornered, so I couldn’t bottle it up anymore! “I want to go back home! I want to be able to be with Mom, Dad, and my brother, and this is the only chance I have to show that I’m learning! If Dad doesn’t see me dancing that stupid ballet, then I’ll never be able to go back! I’ll be stuck here like all of you! You just want my spot! I know you’re all jealous of me! That I have a future! That I’ll find a handsome husband! That I’ll be the most beautiful, best dancer in the world! That you’ll have nothing, and I’ll have everything! You all hate me?! Well, I hate you!”

Everyone went silent. I didn’t mean to go that far, but there was too much built up animosity. I left after that and begged for another room; skipping practice the next day too, but working on my own, lonely and silent.

Late one evening, our instructor came to my temporary my room to check on me. “I heard you had an argument with the others. Are you alright?” I felt like the worst person in the world, betraying the only people that ever cared! Our instructor, he ended up as the only person I had left. I wrapped my arms around him and bawled my eyes out, he couldn’t even make it through the door. “Amala…” He rubbed my back as I cried. Those tears from the fight with Chelsea, and some never wept from years of living under my father’s roof, they all came out. “You don’t need to worry. I’m here for you. Even if they all leave you…I’ll be here.” His warm hand rested gently atop my head as he pulled me close with an arm around my waist. We were so close, I could hear his heart beating, feel his body and smell his breath. It was the first I’d ever been so close to a man that wasn’t my father, but the instructor, I trusted him. He’d helped me so much, taught me everything I knew about ballet, he was my mentor. His voice was always soothing and with a confidence I’d never heard before, it created an aura of safety in his presence. “Amala…lay down…” He released his grip and slowly backed me onto the bed, gently closing the door behind him. I had no idea what he wanted. Maybe he wanted me to sleep, to rest and forget the pain. I thought that until he closed in…

“Amala? Hey, you told me to come by! I see your lights are on, so…” Chelsea banged on the door! I never told her to come by the room, nor was the door locked, so I was surprised she didn’t just burst in. “Is the door stuck? I’ll go get the maintenance staff!” Instantly our instructor met Chelsea at the door! “Oh! Is Amala in?”

“…You and I will have a talk later. Be prepared.” Chelsea’s face went cold with her answer.

“I know.” Our instructor left without another word. I couldn’t see what face he was making, but I’m sure it wasn’t pleasant.

“Why are you here?” Without missing a beat, Chelsea walked up and slammed her fist down on the top of my head! “W-Why?! Why do you keep doing this stuff to me?!” The tears came again as I blubbered, met with probably the most loving and passionate hug I’d ever had from Chelsea! Her arms wrapped around so tightly, I thought I was going to break in two, but at the same time, I felt so secure, like nothing would be able to reach me. It was a warmth unlike any other, being able to cry in the arms of my big sister.

Part 4

I woke up alone in our room. Chelsea and I had fallen asleep together as I cried myself out, but she was gone! When she suddenly opened the door, I was horrified by what I saw. She was bruised all along her legs, her clothes were torn, and her face had what looked like a handprint across the cheek!

“Chelsea!” She denied needing medical attention and just sat on the floor with me.

“You know, you’re such a brat! I wanted to go somewhere too! I know you’re more talented than anyone. Unlike you, I’m no good. No matter how hard I try, I’m just slow and clumsy. You’re too good for this place…for him…for anyone.”

“What are you talking about? What happened?”

“I’m not good at anything, so I try to do everything. Try to find something…something I’m good at. We all did, but here we are, nothing and nobodies.”

“Chelsea, you’re someone to me! You’re my big sister!” That must’ve struck a chord! For the first time I saw Chelsea make that expression, an ear-to-ear genuine smile under her blushing cheeks. “No matter what, I love you!”

“I love you too, brat.” She never told me about what happened that night.

The day approached for the performance. With only one night left, I did everything I could and secured the position of lead dancer for Swan Lake! The other girls stayed much later than I did, as I was told to get my sleep. Once it’d gotten late, they came to my room, we sat, and talked the whole night away. We went on about everything, and anything, and nothing, our dreams for the future, fears, who we liked, television, the world, our lives, and it just kept going until there wasn’t but a few words left unsaid!

“Chelsea, what did you mean about protecting me?”

“Don’t worry about it. Amala…you know; adults are really bad people! Promise you won’t grow up to be a bad adult.” Serious as she could be, Chelsea said that to me with conviction.

“Okay! As long as keep dancing with me!”

“…Ok…”

“Hey Ammy, you remember all the tricks I showed you to do with your hair, right?” The soft hands of Patricia gliding through my hair was calming, though I felt hesitation, and unease.

“Duh! Got to maintain my star potential, right? That’s what Loran always says anyway.” I smiled over to Loran and Sasha who were preparing drinks. “I’m kind of scared about tomorrow. You know what? I don’t care about going home anymore! Even if my Dad doesn’t like the show, I’ll be fine! I want to stay with you girls! Maybe if we save up, we can open a ballet studio together!”

My excitement got the better of me. We were all getting ready to sleep, but I was fired up just thinking about it! Suddenly Loran hugged me tightly, her arms so strong that I couldn’t break the grip. “Amala, you’re such a good girl.” She said solemnly. Patricia and Sasha followed, all squeezing me tightly in a big group hug!

“Stop! I can’t breathe!” I joked. In truth, I’d never felt so much love in my life. “Chelsea, come help!” But she sat there, tears in her eyes and a smile on her face.

Time passed and we all slowly drifted off to sleep. I still remember the last thing Chelsea said to me that night though. “Never change, brat.” As she held me.

Part 5

“…What happened after that?” Lidia sat back in her seat, bracing herself, having done her research beforehand, but wanting Amala’s perspective.

The young woman stared off into space. Her mind was so clouded by sentimentality and wrought with grief whenever she’d mentally visited the past; it was paralyzing. “You probably already know.”

“I know what’s been written. 4 minors committed suicide, and the staff was charged with multiple cases of abuse as recounted by the diary entries of the children. The headmaster was arrested, but never jailed, as she died before the trail could be held.”

Amala took a deep breath. “I…can’t. I…woke up…with Chelsea’s arm holding me tightly.” Her chest tightened with an exhale. “I…couldn’t get away.” Air in the room grew shallow, refusing to reenter her lungs again. “I…just screamed, and screamed until someone finally found me…it felt like an eternity, that cold...stiff arm…”

“Amala, breathe! Breathe in, breathe out.” Her breathing, her heartbeat, and Lidia’s pleading to calm down couldn’t drown out the roaring emotions!

“Why is it that…?”

The therapist placed rested her hand genteelly on the shaking woman’s back. “Amala…why do you think no one believed you? This is all…”

“No! They…that place was hell!” Amala shot up from her seat, stormed over to the window and pulled it open with violent zeal! “I was blind to it when I was younger!” Guilt crushed her shoulders, cold night air chilled any warmth built up in her, further breaking down the already defeated young woman. “…but…they…look!” On her phone, Amala loaded up a website! The entirety of the of 4 pages were dedicated to ‘The troupe of child abuse, Ms. Helga’s boarding school for girls’. Then she brought up a forum with posts ranging from lists of abusers to accomplices, and paid off officials, and a self-typed document listing all of her memories of the abuse.

“…Where did you get all of this?” Lidia scrunched her brow with concern.

“I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t do my job! Every time I try and make headway in life lately, it’s all I can think about! I went looking for the truth, and I found it! Even if…even if everyone in the world doesn’t believe me, I know what happened. I know what they did to my sister.”

Part 6

[Amala, message me when you’re able to! I know things have been difficult, but the execs upstairs are making a lot of noise lately. If you need more time off, I’ll cover for you, but YOU will have to submit the request!] The message marked read went unanswered. It’d come through at a little past midnight, just minutes before she planned to move.

From atop an abandoned factory, two young men could be seen welcoming a car of three others. They left the two men outside as they entered a garage, closing the shutters behind them. Dry, cold air pushed discarded pieces of trash across asphalt of the deserted lot, tumbling along with howling winds cutting through the broken windows of hollowed out shops. The desolate area was deathly silent, unaware of awaiting the lioness’s bubbling anticipation.

Perched on a building overlooking the area, Amala Singh, stood eying the shop. Her mind was buzzing with the words of her therapist. Wanting her to go home, and take every opportunity to look away from all the theories polluting her mind, to try and rest. Those notions, while sweet, were pointless. Amala wasn’t one to turn a blind eye, never again!

‘Joffe’s arrest means the rats are going to flee the ship!’, ‘The police are arresting us?! Here’s why they aren’t arresting the traffickers!’, ‘When should we move? We’ve got their names, their locations and what they’re planning. If we wait too long, they’ll move, and we’ll miss them!’; all the posts saved onto the young woman’s phone had been viewed multiple times, but Amala’s eye remained transfixed on each one, each response, each time stamp, and every word.

Shallow, warm breaths forced their way out of her mouth as Amala’s coolheaded nature continued to crumble.

Her chest heaved, and hands shook, trying to focus on the words before her eyes. Thoughts of her friends, those happy memories from a different time and place, they became harder and harder with each breath to recall! All the smiles and laughs being smeared with dark intentions of those who ruined her sanctuary, stole it from her, and the hands of justice just glanced over! Alone she stood, the only thing backing her, the comfort knowing that she’d defend that warmth for any child, and keep it from being snuffed out by those with dark intentions.

Amala pulled her dark purple hood over her head with one final deep breath, leapt from the ten-story building. The mauve haze plumed forth, surrounding her, and gracefully carried Amala to the ground, her sneakers making nary a sound upon impact. Slowly, the incarnation of righteous fury strolled over to the men waiting outside of the garage.

“Hm? Who’s that?” One asked, as he reached for the gun in his waistband!

“Some kid? Yo kid, get the fuck out of here! What do you think you’re doing?!” The other man approached! He felt no fear as he easily stood more than a foot taller than the figure cloaked in purple sweats. “Didn’t I say to get-”

Before another word could be uttered, the man fell to his knees, his view no longer resting on the small person before him, but on his partner! Confused, his attempts to speak came across as garbled chocking, as his neck had been broken, and his head sat backwards on his body!

Stunned at what he’d seen, the partner grabbed his gun, but Amala’s purple haze shoot at him like a firehose! The force of the telekinetic smoke blasted the man off his feet, sending him head over heels, slamming the back of skull onto the ground and splitting it open!

Without a hint of remorse, she just walked past the corpses unabated. Ready to peer into the garage through one of the grime caked windows, rustling and whispering from within alerted her! Amala assumed they’d become aware of her presence, thus slightly altered her plans. Using her telekinesis, Amala pulled herself upward to a window on the roof overlooking the floor below. Three men stood ready, all armed with guns.

Placing her fingers across the brim of the window; she could pull it open, but the noise would’ve likely brought the men’s attention upward. Focusing her telekinesis, Amala used the haze to grab a hold of the shutter at the front and rattled it!

The man closest to the door jumped and blew through the entrance, shaking until he saw the two dead bodies before him! “Fuck man! Greg and Brock are dead!” He screamed running back inside!

“Hold up, what?” Another man moved toward the door as both peered out! “Christ! What happened?!”

“Drop your guns!” The small, light voice of the young woman caught both men off guard! They turned and were met with the hooded Amala, gripping their accomplice up in the air with a mysterious purple smoke!

“Wha-who…the…”

“I said, drop your guns! That wasn’t a request! Do it now or I’ll kill him!” A stone cold order was given as both men remained frozen.

“Fuck you, bitch! What is this?!”

“…Arnold Patrick, Keith Lawless, Howard Tanner, Liam Joffe…who are you guys under? Who are you working for…?” The mist tightened around the neck of the man as he gasped for air!

“What does she know?! Fuck it!” The man nearest Amala opened fire, but she used his partner to block the bullet and dodged to the side behind a metal table!

The table was suddenly flung across the room by a telekinetic blast! The corner crashed into the shooter’s head, knocking him to the ground as the other prepared to open fire, though before he could locate Amala, sharp pains dug into his leg!

“Agh! Damnit! Agg-” His cries were cut short as two rusty nails quickly pierced his forehead! The man’s lifeless body collapsed. Amala walked past the corpses and up to the last living man who lay, barely conscious on the floor.

Using her power, she dragged the man up to his feet off the greasy floor, then pinned him against the wall with the same metal table used to stun him before! She glared deeply into the dazed eyes of her captive and shoved the table’s edge into his abdomen.

“Ugh! S-Stop…” He regained some awareness and understood the situation. All four other men had been killed, and an unknown person with super powers had him trapped! “Let me go, please! I swear, I’ll quit! I’ll turn my life around! I won’t hurt anyone ever again…I swear to God! Please!”

“Shut up.” Rummaging through her pocket, Amala brought up her phone, searching for something. “Look here; are all these locations correct?” The information she’d spent so long gathering was displayed. The man quickly skimmed through the notes and felt his heart sink as he knew that the person before him was aware of all about their shady dealings.

“W-Will you let me go if I tell you?”

“…” That angered the small, vengeful woman. The haze slammed the table against the man’s body, cracking ribs and pinning him harder against the brick wall!

“Gah! O-Okay, okay! Yes, they’re right!” Blood oozed from his mouth as the man doubled over.

“Are these where they store the children?! Are you keeping kids there?!”

“Lady, I don’t know…ok…I just deliver shit, ok…drugs, guns, I don’t ask!” He wept.

“…Your complicity is just as bad! Ignoring suffering, keeping your head down, just allowing those who are innocent to have their lives ruined! You…” Amala quickly scrolled through her phone, bringing up more information! “Are these people named here correct?! Answer me!”

“Far as I know…yes. Like I said, lady, I’m just a driver.”

“…You’re a criminal. Last question, who do you work for…?”

“…Joffe…”

“I knew it.” Amala stepped back and pulled the table away from the man. He fell to the ground, wheezing, blood pouring from his mouth and grasping at his broken ribs.

The man struggled to stand again, and slowly shambled toward the door. As he reached out his hand, grasping for the knob, a glimmer of hopes of escaping with his life would soon be obliterated! Unbeknownst to him, five rusted nails floated alongside Amala, wrapped in her telekinetic haze. With zero hesitation, she hurled three of them into the back of the man’s skull, killing him instantly!

Weirdly, Amala stood confused as two of the three clattered to the ground beside her. She spent no time concerning herself with them, and just walked away. That night, Amala resolved herself to finish her mission, to rescue whatever children were in distress that she could; to never allow what happened to her friends to happen to anyone else; no matter what it would cost her.

End of Chapter 9