The air in the observation room vibrates with an electrical charge. I take a step back from the window, feeling the urge to run. But there is no escape. The room has only one door and it leads to Eliza. Everyone in the room sits on the edge of their seat, fearing the worst. “Dr. Milton...” I manage to get out, barely above a whisper. “Is she going to hurt me?”
“Step away from the window, Miss Owens.”
He slowly rises to his feet and takes a few cautious steps toward me. The single pop of cracking glass surprises us all and we fall silent.
A small piece of the two-way mirror breaks off and lands on the linoleum floor. I turn my attention back to the window where I see a crack forming. It spiderwebs its way through the glass, starting slowly as one thin line then multiplying rapidly into thousands of narrow streaks of imminent danger.
We all stand completely motionless, holding our breaths.
A riotous crunch rings out and the mirror explodes into millions of tiny little shards of razor sharp glass as everyone ducks for cover. Dr. Milton grabs my arm and yanks me away from the window. He throws himself between me and the glass, protecting me from the airborne fragments.
“Eliza! Stop!” Zoë screams.
“No, Zoë. You stop me.”
The door to the observation room flies open and Eliza’s footsteps quicken as she approaches.
“Eu controlar a súa mente. Go join your co-workers on the other side of the gymnasium,” Eliza instructs the security guards inside the room.
They walk mechanically out of the observation room and into the gymnasium.
“Send her to me,” Eliza commands Dr. Milton.
He blankly stares at her for a few seconds before mindlessly stepping aside, leaving me exposed to whatever danger she decides to throw my way. My breathing becomes quick and shallow and my heart thrums riotously in my chest.
“Eliza, please don’t do this,” I beg her.
“Eliza,” Zoë calls from directly behind her. “Stop! Now!”
“Do you think Isabel Del Bosque is going to stop because you ask her to? Make me stop, or you’ll find out what I’m really capable of.”
Zoë's face fills with fury. A gust of wind flows through the room shuffling the fallen slivers of glass. The fluorescent lights on the ceiling buzz and flicker as the energy in the room intensifies. Sparks fly out of the fixtures. Zoë stares deep into Eliza’s eyes, her ferocity growing with each passing second.
A cloud of swirling black dust forms in front of Zoë. Black butterfly like beings flutter within the dark cloud, screeching loudly, begging for escape.
Eliza smiles wickedly then turns her attention back to me. She holds a flat palm in my direction and my throat immediately feels as though it closes. Her fingers feel tightly clamped around my neck but nothing is there. I claw at my throat, desperate to find a release. I can’t breathe.
Losing consciousness, I slowly drop to my knees.
Zoë pulls her hands together in front of her chest and ferociously throws them at Eliza. The spinning cloud of black dust grows, wind swirling in fast circles. It collides with Eliza, throwing her across the room and releasing her grip on my throat. I gasp for air and tightly grip a nearby chair for support.
Eliza’s body slams into the wall and falls to the floor, landing in a pile of shredded glass. She climbs wearily to her feet, blood dripping down her forearms. “Okay, that’s enough,” she says through labored breaths.
“Oh my God, Eliza. Are you okay?” Zoë asks, rushing over to her.
“I’m fine,” she says picking small pieces of glass from the cuts on her arms. “Apparently you managed to activate all of your dormant energy.”
I cough, my throat still irritated from the strangle hold. “Sorry, Emma,” Eliza says walking over to help me up. “I had to make sure she was ready for this and showing her what you are up against was the only way I could be sure.”
I look at her angrily, one hand covering my throat. “Oh relax, I wasn’t really going to kill you.”
“That's not what it felt like.”
The security guards come running into the observation room. Dr. Milton regains control of himself as they enter the room. He looks at the broken mirror, the millions of tiny little shards of glass covering the room, Eliza’s blood covered arms, and my panicked face. “What happened in here?” he asks with a quiver in his voice.
“I answered your question,” Eliza responds. “Zoë’s ready.