Dave still remembered the day. Even in the times when he had stopped questioning the things that surrounded him, wondering how it should've been different for him. He had seen prison cells practically all his life. He stayed out of trouble as far as he could. As far as he was allowed to, in an environment where only the strongest survived.

Though he was reminded by the visiting old men every single day that this was something he should utilize for personal growth and how when he sees the end of it, he would be somebody who would've never ended up there in the first place, he was not convinced. He was not thankful to be in the position where he had to endure these conversations. He feared that the more time he spent there, the more were the chances he would willingly hurt others.

When he peered into their eyes, he felt helpless. It was like losing himself. Though after each encounter he felt numb and neutral to everyday life, something about that calmness was not natural. The mental subjugation and indoctrination constantly pitted him against himself, planted self-doubt and guilt. In some other sane part of the world, he could've gone on like nothing happened. He would've been "flawed", but at least a bit more real.

Dave had heard the rumors himself. There was apparently a purge happening within the prison cells. This wasn't the usual fights that break out every once in a while. In fact, it had reduced after the officials were forced to put some measures in place after a public outcry. He had heard about secret burials. The prison records were burnt. It was as if they never existed.

He couldn't deny it himself. He had noticed that some of the faces familiar to him weren't around anymore. He wasn't much of a talker to begin with. But this had delighted his cell mate – if you could call him that – was convinced that they deserved it for being weak. He was told that it would be funny if he was the next one to go. He couldn't say much. At least, it was honest. Plus, it was better than getting beaten to pulp by the likes of such imbeciles.

Upon further investigation with some of the folks related to the people now mysteriously missing, he had come to know that at least a handful of them exhibited strange behavior. One person lamented that she missed her cell mate even though she had her removed from their cell. She had told him that she found herself unable to walk whenever her cell mate was around. She was convinced that she was being controlled. She was sorry that the cellmate went missing but she had to do what she had to. She told him that talking about it eased her mind and he had asked her to not think about it too much and to move on.

But this couldn't have been a coincidence. Dave believed her. In fact, he was dreading it himself. The last time when he was visited by one of those "gifted" men who wanted to save him from himself, in a moment filled with rage and agony that their words and their eyes brought him, he had wished with all his being, to bring pain and suffering upon these assholes.

He had personally seen a number of people who had tried to be feisty with them, be unconscious for days and sometimes weeks. But to his surprise and later horror when he discovered the rumors, the old man had gasped and slightly winced with pain, breaking the eye contact and freeing him from his abuse for the day. If the lady was right, his time was near. Something was happening to him. Even though this change, whatever it was, will come in handy for him at some point, he had hoped it not happen again for his sake. Though he tested it on himself whenever the cell mate was not around, he hid it well from others.

It all changed that day. The day he re-lives almost every day in his nightmares. He was visited by one of the prison guards late in the day and told him that he was to visit the prison chief's chamber. He was informed that one of the "gifted" wanted to see him. He was hoping for the worse and preparing for the worst.

He was confident in his abilities if need arises, he could subdue the prison chief if he had to, but with the psychic, if his powers were already under suspicion, he did not stand a chance. He had to weigh his options. A year-long coma at best, or a secret burial at the worst. To be honest, he had preferred the latter.

When he entered the chamber, the psychic smiled at him. He had an amusement of a cat playing with a half-dead rat before it was completely consumed. The chief was sitting on the other side of the room, behind a thick black curtain. They must have known he thought to himself. At that distance, he could be shot ten times over. He was at a disadvantage.

The psychic started. "If you be a good boy and cooperate with us here, you will leave this place unharmed. But just for my safety, I will be placing you at gun point. Don't try your tricks on anybody here... well not anybody, but still, at least not on a law enforcer or a person whom you and this wretched place should be thankful for." He hated every word.

"I will be providing your next session. Looking forward to that. Breaking through the gaze of one of us, that doesn't happen every day. It would be sad to see that kind of potential go to waste. Today's task for you is simple. Have a look at that disgrace over there."

He felt the tension within him. At gunpoint, he directed his line of sight to the chair in the middle of the room. A man was there on it, naked and tied to it. He was covered in sweat. Even through his restraints, he could hear the intensity of the screams. The man could rip his lungs out with bare hands.

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"It's begging to be put out of misery. What an eyesore... how ugly can you get... Staring at that for an hour makes me want to throw up."

Psychic continued, "Don't be fooled by its size. It's all talk. It wouldn't be able to even momentarily distract me with its powers. What it did is unforgivable. It has some wicked powers though. It can manipulate sphincter muscles. The poor policeman subjected to unspeakable horrors needs to be avenged. It is only fair."

"The poor guy had difficulty breathing, couldn't eat food properly, and most importantly, couldn't relieve himself in the bathroom. The man died due to multiple related health conditions and when he did die, the resulting scene... was equally ugly. Just imagine that. Does a law-abiding man deserve this?" The psychic spoke to himself. These were people who loved listening to themselves talk.

"To be fair, he did force it to fight with others like it one time... can you blame him though? There are days when I enjoy a good dog fight on the streets. Keeps things lively in this monotonous workplace... don't you think?"

"If you are wondering why I call it the way it deserved to be, what else can you call a creature who actively rejects good decisions when people like me impart them without expecting any payment in return? Calling it an animal would be an insult to all the animals. That's why."

At gunpoint, he felt a repulsive force that he had not experienced before. And he shared the compound with some serial killers. "Give it pain till it stops barking, or be ready for your turn at the chair."

He weighed his options again. There was no leeway. He did not want to be subjected to this humiliation, which sickened him. He would do anything to be away from this. He had to do what he had to. He raised his hands and told the psychic with tears in his eyes, "I will do it."

The psychic let out a short laugh... "Good. You are a clever man. Consider this a preview of our upcoming session. Justice isn't pretty."

Dave did as he was told to. He was never able to forget the day ever since.

***

Dave shook his head, exhaling air quickly a couple of times. He had always used the mechanism to shrug off his thoughts when his head was getting the better of him. He was on a mission, albeit being one of the simpler ones he had executed. His badge was still shiny and it read, "Dave."

He joined the police force as an honorary member. Later he enrolled formally and underwent necessary training. He was proud of his work and his place in society. He had a social life and was generally happy.

His inner demons would sometimes turn on him on every possible chance. He had to convince himself that not everything about life can be perfect. The way he had reached his position could've been questionable in the beginning, but he in his mind had made amends for it by reaching for something in his own terms.

When the project Olive fell, Dave thought he'd be freed from his word to the powers back then. After that eventful day, he had agreed to carry out further assignments to take out powered people in exchange for which he was spared his life. Even though a lot has changed, he remained bound to the same contract he wasn't proud of. He considered it a price to pay in order to carry out his duty as a police officer responsible for the safety of his community.

He was approaching his destination. It was a small house on the outskirts. His current residence would be five-times the size. When he got out of his car and entered the premises, he could see a little girl playing outside. As he invited himself in, the mother asked:

"Why... What the hell man? You can't enter other people's home just like that."

Dave showed his ID. "I have a warrant to search this place and interrogate if I want. So please cooperate."

"All right... all right... Can you tell me what this is about? "

"Shoplifting."

The mother shook her head and sighed.

"We are going through a rough patch right now. You can see how this place reeks of smoke and shit. The water is contaminated with the shitty pipelines here. Trying to move out. Been saving up. We'll make amends for this. Not here to hurt anybody."

"Can I speak to your partner? There are witness statements."

"The hell happened?" the father walked into the living room, probably just woken up.

He saw the man eyeing him, getting tensed. His eyes would have given it away. The man would've seen it coming. The man was walking up to him and whispered, "Is this about what I think it is?"

Dave said in a muffled voice "Yeah, this is about your powers... do they know? If not, you would want it to stay that way."

There was no resistance.

"Babe, I will go with this officer for now... don't worry... it's going to be fine."

"No honey... the hell... this can't be... pretty sure the only fucking reason is –"

"It's okay." The man assured her.

Dave led the man to the vehicle after handcuffing him. The child hid behind the mother. The man told his daughter while trying to hold back tears as much as he could. "It's okay sweetie."

He was not sure if he would see his home ever again. Every day in his life was a reminder as to how the system had failed people like him.

Driving away from the premises, Dave felt heavy. He always did when he ran these errands. He knew he was complicit in acts which were against everything he stood for. But he was just a cog in the wheel, an easy pick-off. After all, the man he had tracked now wasn't totally innocent even if he hadn't shoplifted. Their lives had been stained by the system. Though he reluctantly does play a part, he promised himself to make amends for it.

Since that day, he had not used his pain inflicting ability on others.

He verified the documents he was briefed about. The man was listed as a threat that needed to be eliminated. His powers were getting stronger. The document called for inspection on his family members as well and report any findings on strange developments.

The parents might not have noticed or have gotten accustomed it, but the place had no business smelling like flowers, not even a faint one at that. But he wasn't a goner who would go as far as reporting a child.

Things haven't been easy for him on this front even if he had not been feeling conflicted. He and others who volunteered for carrying out this job had to lay low in recent times. The movement had lost some of its people. There seems to have been a split in the camp after project Olive fell... and he wondered why a gifted man would turn against them... Until a month ago, tales of a powered female informant in his circle kept him on his toes, adding to things that would keep him awake at night.