Bad Decision

Waking up from a roofie sucks.

Waking up from a roofie and finding yourself in a van facing a large man who has a gun holstered at his side really sucks.

Unfortunately ending up in situations that royally suck seem to have become a way of life for me. 

It took a while after waking up to get the energy to begin really thinking and moving. Time was a rather vague concept as the fog slowly faded from my brain, all I knew was that we were still driving and no one was talking to me.

Finally I was able to talk. “You should really let me go,” I said.

“After you've done a few jobs for us, we'll let you go. For now, shut up and relax,” he replied.

Rolling my shoulders and neck trying to work the kinks out, I silently cursed the world. My life had been so much easier before manifesting. Safe, uncomplicated, just the usual everyday problems to worry about. But then I had to gain my powers, and worse yet gain them publicly so the entire world knew what I could do and who I was.

“Seriously, if you let me out at the next stop, I'll go my way, you go yours, no hard feelings, no one has to get hurt,” I said.

He smirked at that. Honestly I couldn't blame him. There I was still fighting off the effects of being drugged, in the back of a van driving at high speeds, with no idea where I was, and nothing about me seemed dangerous. Even my power seemed harmless, it wasn't like I could shoot lasers from my eyes or tear metal apart with my bare hands.

Unfortunately that was going to get him killed.

“You know what my power is right?” I asked.

“You make doors. If you want to try making a run for it, be my guest, you might survive the fall,” he said, still smirking.

I nodded. “Yeah, I make doors. I can make doors in anything. Have you thought about what that means?”

The smirk was exchanged for a look of confusion.

My hand brushed against the seat belt. A golden outline, roughly in the shape of a rectangle, appeared on the buckle. Fabric and metal snapped open, looking perfectly cut, allowing me to lunge forward as the seat belt released. My lunge was more of a forward sprawl, the drugs were still messing with me, but in the confines of the van I didn't need to be graceful.

My captor was reaching for his gun when my hand connected with his chest. His shirt and skin glowed, then his rib cage popped open as if on hinges, exposing his heart, lungs and other important organs. A bit of blood leaked out, but my power would keep him alive. My 'doors' didn't actually damage anything, his veins, nerves and organs still worked normally and as soon as I closed the 'door' everything would fit back together seamlessly. If I was medically inclined, I could be one hell of surgeon.

He gaped in shock and horror at the gristly sight of his rib cage hanging open. I didn't give him a chance to recover. Grabbing his heart I gave it a good, hard pull. I almost vomited as blood coated my hand and arm.

The driver was yelling something. I couldn't make it out.

Falling to my knees as the van swerved all over the road, I grabbed the drivers seat and once more using my power, made the back of the seat swing downwards. Off balance, the driver shouted in fear and van went completely out of control.

I jabbed the driver in the side, the skin, fat and muscle pulled apart revealing his guts. As the van hit the ditch with a sickening lurch I curled up into a ball using my arms to protect my head.

I'm not sure how long I was unconscious. I woke up with a splitting headache as paramedics pulled me out of the van. I got a look at the driver when they put me into the ambulance, he was somehow still alive and screaming. The paramedics were trying to free his intestines from steering wheel.

I had tried to end things nicely.