CHAPTER 2: KIDNAPPED

Bryan’s POV

The bass from my headphones thumped against my eardrums, Lil Uzi Vert’s “Just Wanna Rock” drowning out the dull sounds of the city. I was just walking, nowhere in particular, trying to shake off the weird static feeling that had been buzzing under my skin since yesterday. The air felt… charged.

That’s when I noticed him. A guy, dressed in head-to-toe tactical black, leaning against a lamppost half a block down. He wasn’t looking at his phone or waiting for a bus. He was staring right at me. A cold trickle of unease went down my spine, but I shoved it down. Paranoid much, Bryan? I adjusted my headphones and kept walking, putting a little more swagger in my step just to spite him.

A few paces later, my attention was hijacked by someone else. A girl was walking toward me, and damn. She had this look—sharp, intelligent eyes, a figure that could stop traffic, and an aura of complete command. The kind of person you instantly want to impress, even if you have no idea why.

To my surprise, she stopped directly in my path. I pulled one headphone off. “Can I help you?”

“We need to talk,” she said. Her voice was calm, professional, but it wasn’t a request.

I couldn’t help but smirk. This was new. “Sure. About what? The weather? The distinct lack of good pizza places around here?”

“Do you have powers?” she asked, utterly blunt. No lead-up, no sugar-coating.

The question was so absurd I let out a short laugh. “Powers? What, like superhero stuff? What makes you think I’d have powers?” I tried to sidestep her, the weird feeling from earlier coming back in a wave. “Look, I’ve gotta go…”

She moved with startling speed, her hand snapping out to clamp around my forearm. Her grip was like iron. “Sorry,” she said, and she actually sounded like she meant it. “But I have to do this.”

“Do wha—” was all I got out before a sharp pinch pierced my neck. The world didn’t fade so much as it shattered into fragments of color and sound before collapsing into absolute, silent black.

K-D’s POV

Blissful, uninterrupted peace. That was the appeal of the mansion. Cartoons played on the massive screen, the only light in the vast living room. It was my sanctuary, my bubble away from a world that always felt too loud, too demanding. I rarely had visitors, which was exactly how I liked it.

So, the sharp rap at the front door was a jarring intrusion. I muted the TV. “Who is it?” I called out, not moving from my nest of blankets.

No answer.

Sighing, I padded downstairs. “I said, who’s there?” I reached for the door handle, but before my fingers touched it, the heavy oak door swung inward on its own.

A man stood there, dressed in black like a shadow given form. My brain stuttered, caught between confusion and alarm.

“King-David?” the man asked, his voice flat.

“Yeah? Who’s asking?” I took a step back.

His arm came up. There was a device in his hand. A brilliant, painful arc of blue-white electricity leapt from it and connected with my chest. My entire nervous system screamed in unison. My vision filled with blinding light, then snuffed out into a darkness deeper than any I’d ever known.

Jay Mello’s POV

Sketchbook open, pencil flying. I was capturing the weird, twisted way the shadows fell between the apartment buildings. Lately, my drawings had a habit of feeling… prescient. Like I wasn’t just imagining things, but tracing lines that already existed somewhere.

“Hey, kid!”

The voice broke my concentration. I looked up. A man in a dark jacket was leaning against the chain-link fence a few yards away. He looked ordinary, but his eyes were intently focused on me.

“Huh? What?” I said, closing my sketchbook a little.

“I’ve been watching you,” he said, pushing off the fence and taking a step closer.

My guard shot up. An alarm bell started clanging in my head. “You’ve been spying on me? That’s it—I’m calling the cops. No, wait, the CIA. Screw it, the FBI!” I fumbled for my phone.

“No, wait, that’s not—” he started, raising a placating hand.

But the fear had taken over. I backpedaled toward my house. “Mom! There’s a stranger here! He’s a creep!”

The man’s expression shifted from calm to resigned. “Phew, that was close,” he muttered, almost to himself. His other hand came up from behind his back. There was a small, pistol-like device in it.

I saw a tiny dart fly through the air. A sharp sting bloomed in my neck. The world tilted, the colors bleeding together like a wet painting, and then I felt nothing at all.

Emmanuel Akingz’s POV

The walk to the train station was always my thinking time. Tonight, my thoughts were a jumble of exams and the lingering, odd sensation that my watch was running slow. Or maybe time itself was stuttering.

Then I saw him. A man, all in black, standing motionless under a streetlamp. He wasn’t looking at the train schedule or his phone. He was staring directly at me. His gaze wasn’t just looking; it was dissecting. It felt like he could see every fear, every secret, every stupid mistake I’d ever made.

A wave of pure, primal terror washed over me. It wasn’t rational; it was a biological imperative, screaming that this was a predator and I was prey. My breath hitched. My heart tried to escape my chest. The world spun, the edges of my vision darkening into a tunnel with that piercing gaze at the end. My legs gave out, and the concrete of the sidewalk rushed up to meet me as consciousness fled.

Jay Willz’s POV

Breakup music. That’s what this was. Dax’s “Depression” thrummed through my headphones, but the lyrics just blurred into a sad, angry smear. I was too bored, too tired, too everything to really listen. I just sat on the front step, letting the world pass by, feeling like a ghost in my own life.

I didn’t even notice the two men approaching until their shadows fell over me. I looked up, pulling a headphone off. “Yeah?”

They didn’t speak. One raised his arm. There was a crackle, a smell of ozone, and a jolt of agony ripped through me. My body convulsed, and the last thing I saw was the concerned face of my neighbor’s cat before the darkness swallowed me whole.