Blood on the Marina

The Glass Cage

The white flash tore through the air, and the floor simply vanished.

There was no sound of metal twisting or stone cracking this time. Just an absolute, blinding glare that swallowed everything. The force of the explosion hit me like a physical wall, throwing me backward off the platform. Freezing water rushed up to meet me, but I did not hit the pool.

Instead, my back slammed hard against a solid, cold surface.

I gasped, my eyes flying open. The water was gone. The dark drainage chamber was gone.

I was lying flat on my back inside a small room made entirely of thick, transparent glass. The air inside was dry and smelled sharply of clean bleach and metal. Through the clear walls, I could see bright white lights flashing in a long, wide hallway outside.

I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees, my head spinning. My clothes were still damp from the water, sticking uncomfortably to my skin, but the heat in my right arm was gone. The black blood had stopped pulsing. My skin looked ordinary again, pale and smooth.

Amina! Tari! I shouted, banging my palms against the glass wall.

The sound was dull and flat. The glass was easily six inches thick.

Save your energy, a voice said from above.

I jerked my head up. Set into the metal ceiling above the glass room was a small black camera lens, staring down at me with a tiny red dot.

Who are you? I demanded, standing up and glaring straight at the lens. "Where are Amina and Tari?

They are exactly where they need to be, the voice replied through a speaker set into the wall. It sounded calm, smooth, and completely empty of any human emotion. "And so are you, Kelechi. Welcome back to the facility.

The word hit me hard. Facility. Not a basement. Not a club.

I am not your experiment, I said, my teeth clenched so tight my jaw ached. You blew up the platform. Let me out of here right now or I will break this glass into dust.

A low, mechanical chuckle came through the speaker. You still do not understand what you are, do you? You think the black blood in your veins is a sickness. You think you are just a boy from Lagos who cleans up floors. But you are the primary container. The vessel designed to hold the ancient magic of the first Council.

Memories of what Amina had told me flashed through my mind. They think you are an object with a heartbeat.

My name is Kelechi Vance, I said, stepping right up to the glass wall and staring into the lens. And I am walking out of here. If you think you can lock me in a cage, you have no idea what is coming.

We know everything about you, the voice answered smoothly. We know about your fake memories. We know about the hacker girl, Yetunde, who you trusted to keep you safe. In fact...

A section of the glass wall to my left flickered and turned from clear to a bright digital screen.

My breath caught in my throat.

The screen showed a small, white room lit by harsh overhead lights. Tied to a metal chair in the center of the room was Yetunde. Her head was bowed, her glasses were gone, and a dark bruise stained the side of her face.

"Yetunde!" I screamed, slamming my fists against the screen.

At the sound of my voice, she raised her head slowly. Her eyes blinked against the light, searching the empty space around her.

Kelechi? her voice came through the speaker near the screen, weak and shaking. Kelechi, do not listen to them. It is a trap

A sharp buzz cut her off. A figure in a dark gray uniform stepped into the frame behind Yetunde, holding a small metal device. He pressed it against her shoulder, and Yetunde let out a sharp cry of pain, her body shaking before she slumped forward, motionless in the chair.

Rage exploded inside my chest. It was not a slow anger anymore. It was a blinding, white-hot fire that burned every thought out of my head.

The pain in my right arm returned instantly, a hundred times worse than before. The black blood rushed through my veins, hot and heavy, bursting through my skin in thick, dark lines that raced up my neck and across my face.

You are going to let her go, I whispered. My voice did not sound like my own anymore. It sounded deep, heavy, and terrifyingly cold.

Fascinating, the disembodied voice said through the speaker, sounding entirely detached, like a scientist watching a bug under a glass. The emotional trigger successfully accelerates the vessel synchronization by four hundred percent. Begin the extraction procedure.

The ceiling above the glass room hissed.

Four thick metal pipes dropped down from the corners of the room, locking into place against the top of the glass walls. A low, vibrating hum filled the space, growing louder by the second.

I looked at the screen showing Yetunde slumped in the chair, and then down at my hands, which were now glowing with a fierce, dark light that melted the air around my fingers.

I gripped the glass wall with both hands.

Open the door, I said, and pushed with all my might.

The thick glass cracked beneath my fingers with a sound like thunder.