Cute VS Scary

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Silas' POV:

Honestly, I was looking forward to going home after having been arrested by the super secret police force dedicated to incarcerating people like me. I was going to go back to bed, watch a movie as opposed to the news, stay away from the internet where a multitude of articles would be posted about why they should have locked us all up years ago.

The day went by really uneventful, and I laid in bed, but I didn't feel really relaxed. I was tense as I sat at home in my familiar space, because even though I had no involvement in whatever murder occurred, I couldn't fight back the fear.

I kept Atticus' business card right by me at all times, because even though he was a cop who I shouldn't trust, there was an aura about him that attracted me and made me feel safe. If I were to be put in danger, he'd come much quicker than the standard police force and the others who respond to 911 calls.

In fact, whenever someone calls 911, the first thing they ask after saying "911 what's your emergency?" is "does this emergency include someone who was born with the Mistacesemia malfunction?"

And if you say yes, they take longer and send in the Oregon Supernatural Investigation Unit first to make sure that it's not dangerous. Even if Atticus is part of that unit, I think he'd be more helpful if I called just him if I happen to end up in a dangerous situation.

He'd probably actually show up and not try to kill me.

When I woke up the next morning, it was earlier than I expected; it was eight and I had a terrible feeling. I had gotten up and ran over to the wall in my room where I would be able to know no one was beside me.

Out of nowhere, the door flew off its hinges and I raised my hands, the energy I was cursed with flowing through me. I'm not very well trained when it comes to using the abilities I was born with, because I rarely use them, but I can defend myself against a human.

A figure clothed in a red shirt and tight, black pants entered the room, and before I had a chance toe react, they threw me against the wall with their own abilities.

Now, I was not expecting to be attacked by someone else with Mistacesemia! Aren't we supposed to stay somewhat united?!

The person aimed to throw me out the window, but I reacted and shoved them away with a small burst of my own energy, but before I had a second to fight back, they shot my side.

I'm pretty sure they were going to kill me by shooting me again, but sometimes near death experiences breed adrenaline, and that was my case. I managed to throw my attacker out the window and used the bit of energy I had left to drag my phone and Atticus' business card toward me, and called him.

He showed up in ten minutes, maybe less than that, and drove me to some doctor's office.

I was and am afraid, because I don't trust any doctor. All they want is to experiment and find a way to "cure" us, not caring how many of us they kill in the process. Some may call me paranoid, but if you had scary mind powers and a doctor with pointy tools was going to sedated you, you'd probably want to run too.

That's where I am now, sitting in a hospital bed while the doctor prepares a needle to knock me out.

"Hey, it's going to be okay," he says with a soft smile.

Okay, I cannot deny that he's pretty attractive, even though he's a doctor.

He has blond hair and hazel eyes, and his face is littered with freckles. There's a pair of glasses resting on his nose, and I kind of want to poke his nose, but I'm scared he'll stab me with the sedative if I try that.

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