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But I wasn’t done.
With a surge of energy, I began to laugh, the sound echoing eerily in the sterile room.
Even to my own ears it sounded insane.
It started as a low chuckle, growing louder and more manic with every passing second.
The Supervisor recoiled, his ever-present smile finally wiped off his face, replaced by a look of stunned disbelief.
“Nothing,” I repeated, my voice stronger now, every word punctuated with another bout of laughter. “I see nothing!”
The Supervisor’s face reddened with rage, but the damage was done.
For the first time since he’d bested me, I had managed to gain the upper hand, to throw a wrench in his plans.
And though the future remained uncertain, that small victory was enough to light a spark of hope in the ever-present darkness.
* * *
The Supervisor’s once triumphant smirk morphed into a scowl.
His attempts to unlock my visions had been in vain, every strategy and coercion method thwarted by my newfound resilience.
“I don’t understand!” he spat, his voice echoing with frustration.
His sharp scent, usually one of dominance and control, now carried undertones of anxiety.
He leaned in close, his breath hot against my face. “Why? Why won’t you tell me?!”
His voice was a guttural growl, frustration palpable in every syllable.
I looked past him, focusing on the distant hum of the machinery and the soft flicker of the overhead lights.
I let myself fall back into my Distant Vision, the dreamlike space where Ellie’s presence warmed my heart.
The memories of her soft touch, the softness of her skin, the sound of her laughter — all of it enveloped me, comforting me like a soft blanket on a cold night.
The Supervisor’s voice broke through the reverie, pulling me back to reality. “What is the difference between now and before? Why won’t you tell me what you see?!”
His voice held a note of genuine puzzlement.
“You took away my hope,” I began, my voice steady and clear. “If there is no hope, there is no future.”
It was the truth serum talking.
I never would have answered his question otherwise.
For a moment, the Supervisor seemed taken aback.
His normally unflappable demeanor gave way to genuine surprise.
The realization slowly dawned on his face, his eyes widening slightly.
“So,” he said slowly, his tone more calculated now, “if she were to return to you, would you tell me what I want to know?”
The question hung in the air, its weight pressing down on me.
My heart raced, the sound thundering in my ears.
