S17 - Flick

As his captor stood, prattling about “potential for future research” and “the promise of breakthroughs thought to be decades away,” Able’s mind replayed a million battles. He tore apart men clad leather and steel and padded fabric. He watched as centuries of weapons shattered against his skin. He broke bodies, armies, and states. Tactics and morale. Throughout it all, here and there the image of the man before him was overlaid onto his foes.

It was odd. Normally, cowardice made for worthless prey. Effort not well-spent. This man did not deserve to die facing his killer. He deserved to waste away into nothing, the ennui grinding him into irrelevance. And yet. How sweet it would be, Able thought, to cleave his captor’s body in two, or to rend the flesh from his bones.

Once again the man ended his notes and left. Able drug his hand, slowed still by some essence in his blood, to the wall. Even balling it into a fist felt like wading through mud. The only thing he could do with real velocity was twitch a finger, or some other such small muscle in his body.

But the finger, perhaps, was most useful here. Able let his hand float millimeters from the wall. And he flicked out, jabbing his finger against the glass.

He felt it give way slightly. The way that first impact felt on a human skull, the moment when blade met bone, that was how the glass felt. Only there was no follow-through. Had he been at full strength, Able would no doubt have shattered this wall with ease. Clearly, he was not. This would take time.

But all he had was time. A life that had spanned since the dawn of man held no contempt for days or weeks or months, nor would it be snuffed out by a coward who prodded from behind a wall. No doubt his captor would come again and perform those trivial tests. Now with a goal in mind, though, those would become nothing more than annoyances. The Son of Adam would not be held here for long.

Able flicked his finger again. And again. And again.

- Season 17 Round 2, /u/TheAsianIsGamin