07-02-2023, 06:16 PM
If Visha turned up that night Raffe was unaware. She might have sat at the end of his bed and watched him all night for all he knew; he slept hard and exhausted.
DAY 3
He felt strange the next day; like the power was hovering at the edges of his senses, threatening to swallow him whole. For a while the doctors buzzed at the change, but when the various tests elicited pain rather than a state fit for funnelling the power into his control, as was the aim, they paused for recalculation. Raffe was left alone with a vague and impending sense of doom, not unlike the feeling of another man channeling this strange power. It came and went. That afternoon Visha snuck her way into his room, and he was glad to find distraction in her company. Truthfully his head felt a little woozy. It was nice to have something to focus on.
She sat cross-legged at the end of his bed, every inch of skin carefully covered apart from her face. Her smile was bright and mischievous, sly as a cat, and she chattered something about a prince charming and an owl at a pace that made Raffe dizzy. He grinned at her enthusiasm, glad to rest in the surf of someone else’s happiness. Visha was talking about some eshow she had seen on her screen, he assumed; she often talked about that stuff like it was real to her. So he listened quietly, until he finally felt himself begin to doze – another side-effect of the serum in his system doing its work, or so he was told. They’d come for her soon. They always did. Though neither did they seem to be able to stop her visits.
By now Raffe had stopped wondering who on earth she even was.
He woke because of the screaming, utterly disorientated, body tense. For a moment his mind flashed back to being a kid. But it was Visha pleading “no no no no” and the other bodies in the room were all suited in full hazmat. From somewhere Ephraim’s voice echoed, calm as the voice of god.
“Visha, my love. Fifteen people. Let the doctors do what they need to.”
Fear pumped his chest. Confusion. The power roared in, unsure of what he was witnessing in the chaos – half unsure of where or when he even was. The flash of Visha’s pale hair. A feral snarl. Something sizzled. There was alarmed yelling.
Threads burst out of him. In panic, he didn’t even know what he intended beyond a desperate desire to help her. But they frayed away just as quickly, the moment they got close to her.
Then pain made a starburst of his skull, and Raffe passed out.
The next time he woke was to a soft patter of beeping. His eyes fluttered. The lights on the ceiling stung. He wanted to close them again.
“Ah, there you are.”
The face of one of the doctors swam into view, and Raffe forced himself into a stiff smile. She didn’t stop him hoisting himself up on his elbows, and when he glanced down he saw the monitoring equipment was nothing but the usual. A headache pressed behind his eyes, but beyond that he only felt tired. Memories kaleidoscoped. Rubbing a hand over his curls, he did not try too hard to sort through them. It seemed to him he was unlikely to find anything he’d like.
“What happened?” he asked instead.
“Well, you used the power, but it was uncontrolled. Not ideal of course, and unlikely to be first contact. But we won’t know until…”
“Ah.”
“Precisely.”
She gave him a kindly smile as she tapped a few commands into the equipment, and did not seem perturbed, which he assumed he should find reassuring. He slumped back into the pillows.
“Did I ruin the experiment?”
“Let’s just see what happens, shall we?”
Raffe nodded; had no intention of persisting with questions he was not sure he wanted an answer to. His gaze moved beyond her white coat, to search the room beyond, but nothing remained of the altercation. He could almost believe he’d dreamed the whole thing, but knew he hadn’t. Raffe reached to touch the doctor’s arm, frowned.
“Is Visha okay?”
But at that the doctor only smiled again, pat his hand, and left.
DAY 3
He felt strange the next day; like the power was hovering at the edges of his senses, threatening to swallow him whole. For a while the doctors buzzed at the change, but when the various tests elicited pain rather than a state fit for funnelling the power into his control, as was the aim, they paused for recalculation. Raffe was left alone with a vague and impending sense of doom, not unlike the feeling of another man channeling this strange power. It came and went. That afternoon Visha snuck her way into his room, and he was glad to find distraction in her company. Truthfully his head felt a little woozy. It was nice to have something to focus on.
She sat cross-legged at the end of his bed, every inch of skin carefully covered apart from her face. Her smile was bright and mischievous, sly as a cat, and she chattered something about a prince charming and an owl at a pace that made Raffe dizzy. He grinned at her enthusiasm, glad to rest in the surf of someone else’s happiness. Visha was talking about some eshow she had seen on her screen, he assumed; she often talked about that stuff like it was real to her. So he listened quietly, until he finally felt himself begin to doze – another side-effect of the serum in his system doing its work, or so he was told. They’d come for her soon. They always did. Though neither did they seem to be able to stop her visits.
By now Raffe had stopped wondering who on earth she even was.
He woke because of the screaming, utterly disorientated, body tense. For a moment his mind flashed back to being a kid. But it was Visha pleading “no no no no” and the other bodies in the room were all suited in full hazmat. From somewhere Ephraim’s voice echoed, calm as the voice of god.
“Visha, my love. Fifteen people. Let the doctors do what they need to.”
Fear pumped his chest. Confusion. The power roared in, unsure of what he was witnessing in the chaos – half unsure of where or when he even was. The flash of Visha’s pale hair. A feral snarl. Something sizzled. There was alarmed yelling.
Threads burst out of him. In panic, he didn’t even know what he intended beyond a desperate desire to help her. But they frayed away just as quickly, the moment they got close to her.
Then pain made a starburst of his skull, and Raffe passed out.
The next time he woke was to a soft patter of beeping. His eyes fluttered. The lights on the ceiling stung. He wanted to close them again.
“Ah, there you are.”
The face of one of the doctors swam into view, and Raffe forced himself into a stiff smile. She didn’t stop him hoisting himself up on his elbows, and when he glanced down he saw the monitoring equipment was nothing but the usual. A headache pressed behind his eyes, but beyond that he only felt tired. Memories kaleidoscoped. Rubbing a hand over his curls, he did not try too hard to sort through them. It seemed to him he was unlikely to find anything he’d like.
“What happened?” he asked instead.
“Well, you used the power, but it was uncontrolled. Not ideal of course, and unlikely to be first contact. But we won’t know until…”
“Ah.”
“Precisely.”
She gave him a kindly smile as she tapped a few commands into the equipment, and did not seem perturbed, which he assumed he should find reassuring. He slumped back into the pillows.
“Did I ruin the experiment?”
“Let’s just see what happens, shall we?”
Raffe nodded; had no intention of persisting with questions he was not sure he wanted an answer to. His gaze moved beyond her white coat, to search the room beyond, but nothing remained of the altercation. He could almost believe he’d dreamed the whole thing, but knew he hadn’t. Raffe reached to touch the doctor’s arm, frowned.
“Is Visha okay?”
But at that the doctor only smiled again, pat his hand, and left.
![[Image: Raffe-banner--scaled.jpg]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/07/Raffe-banner--scaled.jpg)