Unmasking the Nightmare

Chapter Fifteen: I Hate Mondays

The second I stepped foot in the Elite Headquarters, a thundercloud of negative emotions assaulted me, looming in the twisting corridors as I made my way to the lounge to meet up with the rest of my teammates for training. As hard as I tried, I couldn't ignore the grim faces of the Elites that blurred past my vision, my current mood spiraling further out of my control.

My first day of becoming an Elite was not what I had expected so far. I wasn't sure what I expected, but it certainly wasn't getting sympathetic, pitying looks from just about everyone in Elite Headquarters. No doubt the news about my mom had spread like wildfire, and although I appreciated the sympathy, the last thing I needed was their pity. Without my mom in the midst of it, the headquarters felt empty and unfamiliar, and although I had Moon Mist guiding me, I felt like a lost child.

Moon Mist hadn't said a single word to me as she paced lightly down the hallway, and the awkwardness and tension in the air was stifling. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye, trying to think of something to say to ease the uncomfortable silence. Her silky black hair silvered with gray roots flowed like a thick cascade of water down her shoulders, and her expression was solemn, as if she had been wiped of all emotion.

Since I couldn't think of anything to say, I studied her curiously as she continued to flank my side, watching her mannerisms and posture. She was regal and elegant, her pose perfect and disciplined, a stark contrast to my slouched back and my twitching frown. Did all of the Elites carry themselves like this? I didn't remember my mom ever acting this stiff and emotionless.

Moon Mist's baggy, violet silk capris rippled in the stale air, the hem of her capris scrunched around her upper calves. Her sleeveless V-necked top was impeccable, lacking any wrinkles. Her lavender gladiator sandals were complete with silk bindings that wrapped around her calves, a glossy cape snapping at her heels. I secretly hoped my suit would look as majestic as hers.

I must have been too obvious, because Moon Mist's dark stare drifted over to lock on me, her eyebrows raising slightly beneath her mask. So far, that was the only emotion she had displayed, and I found it to be quite unsettling.

"We're here." Moon Mist's normally soft, calm voice sounded strained and stiff as she beckoned towards the grandly-sloping door frame of the lounge. "Your teammates and the Elite Chosen await."

I bit my lower lip anxiously, wiping my sweaty palms off on my sweatshirt as I turned to the right side of the hallway, taking a few shaky breaths in a pathetic attempt to calm myself. Just as I was about to take a step forward into the lounge, a plump figure barreled into me, startling me. It wasn't a hard hit, but it was enough to send me sliding backwards on my heels from surprise.

A woman in her forties who looked to be of Indian descent stomped through the doorway, sobbing noisily into her hands that cupped her face. When she met resistance, she paused and blinked at me through watery-rimmed eyes. The mint jewels that were glued to her lemon-yellow headband flashed in the harsh lighting, almost blinding me.

"Empathy." I breathed.

Her hands sprang away from her tear-stained face, wrapping her trembling arms around my torso and pulling me forcefully into a hug. I recoiled as my face was buried in the wrinkled folds of her sari, the golden bracelets on her wrists digging into my spine.

"Um...hi?" I patted her shoulder awkwardly, cringing when her tears dribbled down her grubby cheeks and splashed on my sweatshirt.

It's happening. I couldn't save her. We're all in danger! Empathy's mental powers assaulted me, her telepathy slamming into me full-force and filling up my mind with those three echoing sentences.

I struggled against her, trying to create some distance between us before she completely lost control of her emotions. She was surprisingly stubborn and wouldn't let me go, but her grip instantly slackened and her eyes widened in dread when a commanding voice boomed behind her, harsh and biting.