Unaltered

Jaz is a young Unaltered girl, living in a world ruled by rich Modified and controlled by vicious Mechanics. She embarks on a interfallacting journey to raise enough money to undergo the process that will turn her into a Modified, but she ends up in a desperate fight for her life where she finds out more about herself than she'd ever thought possible.

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13. Chapter XII

Chapter XII

Luek

 

 

The engine is almost completely gone. After this there would be no coming back. 

 

Jaz

 

I am in the engine room, and it's nothing like I expected. I don't even no what I'd expected. 

Cool loops of stainless steel, stacked on top of each other. Class tubes filled with pulsating blue fluid. 

But there is something off. There is no hum, no buzz or noise to signal the engines are functioning. Because they're not. How foolish can some people be?

Then he bursts into the engine room, blue eyes wild and full of rage. I freeze.

“Don't you dare!” He shouts, and I flinch away. 

I know exactly what to do to restart the motor. 

Because it's a simple on/off switch. On the wall, glowing pulsating blue in the dingy light. The handle has been pulled down, with no regard to the sign that says ‘do not touch unless emergency!’ In about five different languages. There was a protective glass casing, but that has been smashed, leaving the switch surrounded by jagged pieces of glass. 

“I have to! Or else we are all going to—“ a say a rather nasty world, “DIE!”

It's the only way!!”

“You're crazy.” And with that I lunge for the switch, but Luek is faster and darts in front of my, throwing me backwards into the motor. Black spots dance across my vision, but I force myself up, and tackle Luek to the ground, my whole body humming with unrestrained rage. 

“Get off me—“ he is cut short by my fist colliding once again with his jaw. A sickening thud echoes through the otherwise silent engine room. Too silent…

He pushes himself to his feet and we grapple, each trying to overpower the other, until a noise from behind catches our attention, and we fall still. 

It is Ki. He is no longer bloody and beaten, but strong and defiant, and just as Mechanic as ever. All the metal parts he'd pulled from himself are right back where they were to start with, making his suffering in vain. 

He grabs Luek and throws him into a wall. 

A feel a rush of relief as I hear his neck snap, and I curse myself for it. But still, he'd saved me the trouble of doing it. 

Thinking I am safe now, I nod in thanks to Ki and turn to the switch. It's time for me to fix this. 

But then a meaty hand incloses around my throat, constricting my airways. 

I panic and kick and twist, but it's no use. 

Ki slams me into a wall and drops me, then grabs me up again, this time holding me so I can stare into his eyes, which have gone dead black. Soulless.

“Stop!” I try and shout, but it comes out as Staaaa!

He chuckles, a dark, foreboding laugh, devoid of all life or humour. 

I stare into his soulless eyes as I lash out with my foot, kicking him hard in the one spot a know is his weakness. 

His male parts. 

He howls in pain and drops me, and I scamper away, greedily sucking down oxygen. 

He rights himself again easily, and I press myself hard into a corner, watching as he draws nearer, a malicious smile on his half-metal face. 

Fear is such a strange emotion. It makes time warp and bend. Minutes become milliseconds and seconds transform into decades. I watch, as in a heartbeat that is a century, Ki closes the distance between him and me, in a sped-up slow motion. 

I throw up my hands at the last second, not willing to cower but also not willing to die. 

I go numb with shock as I see Ki thrown backwards, a strange tingling feeling lacing across my hand, like I was placing handprints in the snow, letting the cold nip at my palms until I knew I had left my mark. What had just happened?

I concentrate on the feeling, and it grows sharper, as the numbness spreads and stretches, changing into a rush of power. 

I stand, and Ki whimpers. 

“You're one of them!” He spits at me, as the tingling increases. 

I sharpen it, wield it. It is mine to control. 

It focuses on Ki, and I let it. It is an invisible hand, and I wrap my mind around it, merging my consciousness with its being. 

I direct the hand, my hand, at Ki, closing it around his throat.

The feeling is so strange. The prickle of cold has spread from my hands, up my arms, until it has engulfed my entire being, a sense of frigid power. 

I tighten the invisible hand, then call it back, leaving Ki slumped against the wall, gasping for breath. 

My mind slowly begins to shatter, a web of cracks lacing their way through the surface of my thoughts. 

“What's wrong with me?” I whimper. 

 

 

 

 

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