Attacked 📝

With a start, I woke up – somebody in pain. I look around my train compartment, not seeing much in the darkness of the night. I blink once and take a deep breath – like I’ve trained myself to do. It does not help that the panic in my mind does not want to reside. I lay back and close my eyes, “one breath after another, come on, Noura, you can do it,” I scold myself.

I take another breath. I open my eyes again; the panic is still here, but it is only in part of my mind – and it is not my panic. I keep breathing. The other person is in pain.

Another deep breath – I’m now fully awake – adrenaline and so on. I close my eyes and cause my mental feelers out. I search. I search for the person hurting innocent persons in their sleep. There, I shortly touch a person’s brain. Nope, false alarm; they only are having a nightmare. 

I will myself out of their mind and search further. There are thousands of people on this train. Most of them are quiet, sleeping, and relaxing. Hoping for some relaxing holidays or a successful day at work. There is a calm hum of peacefulness here except for the person in wagon five, hurting in agony and waking everybody up.

But there is one mind in this ocean, which is too quiet. He is in the last wagon of the train. Nobody’s brain should be this quiet! It is as if the person is not living. I begin focusing on the brain, like tuning in a radio frequency. I adjust my brain to receive the waves of a single brain. The rest of the consciousness fades as the destination’s thoughts get stronger.

“Good job, Dmitri, and now back home to await our next mission.” I receive from them. But I wish I did not zone in on that brain. They are alive, but this person is ugly – no emotions, no feelings. Cold as a grave. They don’t feel anything, only looking forward to the next train stop to exit the train. And on to the next job.

“Not with me!” I exclaim, opening my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I unpack my phone and call the police.

• /writing