"You don't have any color," The older boy shining with purple blurted. He had dark hair too, not as dark as his purple sparks.

"And you don't have a brain," I snorted, biting into a cob of corn.

I whatched curiusly as his purple turned darker than it had a moment before. The boy next to him shrank in his seat, sparks of black slipping into the red as he eye the other.

"Let me guess." I mused, watching him. "Eighty seven percent Violent. Thirteen percent Rage."

He gaped at me as the purple faded away, replaced with a dull red.

"How did you know that?" The younger one asked.

"Hold on, I don't even know your names hot head."

He apparently didn't like being called hot head and the red around him lit itself aflame.

"It's Owen." He said steddily, forcing the colors away.

"I'm Mike." The older one said, stabbing his steak.

"Nice to make your acquaintance, Owen and Mike." I smiled, then kept eating my corn.

"Alright, we've I introduced ourselves. Why don't you have color?" Mike said, exasperated.

"I turned it off." I shrugged. "And it's call emotergy. Emotional energy." I explained.

"You can't turn off emotions." Owen argued.

"I never said I could. I said I could turn off other people seeing them. I'm special." I said in a mocking tone.

"How? And why?" Mike asked.

"No clue." I lied. "Absolutely no clue."

We are in silence for the remainder of lunch. Two guards came and got me, showing me to my new cell, which felt like miles from the cafeteria.

Once I was inside, I tried stretching. My hands brushed an air vent at the top, that had light seeping through it. It hurt my eyes in the darkness so I kept my eyes away from it. The walls seemed to hug me togetger, not letting me breathe. It was paralyzing and I began to wonder how I would ever live here.

After hours the doors slid open. The same two guards led me to a room farther down a hall, even though everone else was walking on their own. When we entered, I saw that hundreds of filing cabinets were stacked on top of each other.

"You find your name, get your stuff." One grunted, guestering to the filing cabinets. They left, leaving me in the odd environment.

"Special will love this." Someone laughed, not in a cruel way.

I ignored Owen and found my name on a cabinet five from the wall and four from the floor. I had some trouble reaching it, but managed to grope around for the objects inside.

I pulled out an empty manila folder and a pair of high techy goggles. Fun.

I saw other people stealing them over their head, so I followed suit. I felt two prinpicks on the side of my head and quickly yanked them off.

"Calm down. They just prick your for blood, then put monitoring chips inside. No biggie." Owen told me.

"Monitoring chips?" I asked. No one heard over the shuffling.

We were pushed through  and a wide room opened in front of me. The ceiling was towering above us. Random equipment was scattered in an organized fashion.

"Running today." The speakers announced. "Twenty miles, then you may leave."

"This sucks," Owen announced, following Mike to a treadmill. I watched them connect handcuffs to their wrists, then bend over to hit a button on their glasses.

"Hurry up Kale. The faster you get this done, the faster you get food." Owen said. He was obviously more talkative than Mike.

I quickly did the same and the treadmill started forwards at a reasonable pace. I heard a quiet churning of gears that reminded me of a metronome.

After the treadmill reached one hour I was starting to get slightly tired. The mile count only read 6.7. Beside me I heard Owen panting. Looking up, Mike was watching him curioisly, purple flares extremely low.

I went back to focusing on my pace, watching my feet try to advance in front of me.

Shocking me from my thoughts I heard a thump. I looked over and saw Owen collapsed on his treadmill, which had thankfully stopped moving.

"Owen?" I realized I couldn't do anything as my treadmill didn't stop. There was no way for me to get off - I was handcuffed in place.

The guards can shooting out of doors. They were wearing black uniforms, all equiped with an odd device that I hadn't noticed earlier.

Someone jammed it into Owen's rib cage. For a moment nothing happened.

Owen started to convulse, all limbs shaking uncontrollably. My jaw dropped a million meters as his head turned towards us, eyes pleading for help.

I heard a jarring electric crack, but not from where Owen lay. Looking over me, I saw Mikey. The purple surrounding him was darker than I'd ever seen purple go - it was almost black. The inky tendrils free around him, shooting out with incredible violence. I could feel the static in the air.

Other people had started to look up, trying to decipher the commotion.

"Mike?" I finally urged myself to say.

"O-o-ow..." He stuttered in a frustrated voice. Without any warning, he sprung towards a guard, pulling the treadmill with him an extreme amount of force, and extreme amount of reckless, violent force.

Mikey was having a Burst.

As soon as the terrifying thought hit me, a sickening crack connected with the air. Mikey had slammed his fist into a nose and blood almost as red as Owen's sparks slapped the floor.

I still couldn't believe Mikey was having a Burst. He was going to die if I didn't stop him. My treadmill was still going and Owen was still shaking on the ground.

I pushed myself up using the handle bars and hung, letting my feet dangle above the conveyer belt. With a grunt I managed to get myself on to the control panel.

Mikey punched another guard, but more were streaming out already - he would die if he didn't stop.

Struggling to come up with a plan, I cursed under my breath. Mikey had finished four more guards and had seconds before more reached him.

I watched helplessly as he ran to wear Owen was still shaking - not even able to scream out in pain. Mike fell at his side and I could hear him saying something quietly. A look of dread filled his face when Owen suddenly stopped shaking. I watched in horror as two innocent eyes rolled back into Owen's head and eyelids fluttered close. With a scream of frustration and empty energy, Mike collapsed next to him.

Hello there. You might be wondering what is wrong with me. There is a perfectly reasonable answer to than, I promise. Well, I could go into genetic research, this is science fiction after all. Something tells me that bores people though. Oh, I remember, my therapist told me that. Makes sense.