Copy that. I need more information, however, before I can be of any assistance. First and foremost...

What are you?

'This day couldn't get more boring!' I yelled, no one around to hear me.

As soon as those words left my lips, a voice crackled to life. 

'What are you?' 

Those were the only words that were legible, the rest a jumbled mess. A single memory dusted itself of and stirred to life in my mind. Throwing on my overcoat, I grabbed my walkie-talkie, and was out the door in a flash.

A week later

November 23, 1921

Still nothing. Not a single trace. I've been to bookstores, museums, labs, abandoned buildings by the side of a road. Everywhere I go, the only answer I get is, 'No. Of course not.' Even then, I know they're lying. Their backs stiffen, their eyes narrow. And yet, not one soul can tell me about it. All I have for clues are a single scrap of paper, and that one message. I read the paper once more.

   Iv been here for as long as i'v known. Studied, needled. I am not human. I look human enough, but i have a power..... They use it for tyem. Chain me up, lock me up.

I need help 

The note's written in a scrawling, childish style. But what does it mean? 

I wasn't sure were I was. I wasn't sure if I was dreaming or awake, swimming or flying, alive or dead. But suddenly I heard something... no, saw something.... It filled my senses, a simple yet urgent message:

Iv been here for as long as i'v known. Studied, needled. I am not human. I look human enough, but i have a power.....They us it for them. Chain me, lock me up. 

I... need... help...

The last three words came slowly, somehow diferent from the others. I couldn't name why. I slowly thought about the message, turning it over in my head. Then, slowly, I reach out into the darkness. My hand moves slowly, winding and wavering, as if I was watching its reflection in a turbulent pool of water, only I was moving, nt watching it, touching, not seeing... senses seemed to be mixed up in this... place. But as I reached out, my hand touched something. I grabbed it, and it fit in my hand the same way another hand would, only... different somehow.

Were u referring to my character's hand, shy peacock?

@shy peacock ok.

Human flesh meets non-human skin. Abnormal bright blue eyes meet human eyes. "You found me" I gasp, joy and fear churning inside.

~~~~ 

@no-one in particular cool poem:]

Fear quickly replaces joy. "We need to go, before they notice!'

"Whos they?"  the dective asks.

"They people who hurt me"' 

Joy lights strangely inhuman eyes as I meet them.

"You found me!" someone exclaims, and I grip their hand tighter. The connection grows beyond our hands, to our emotions. Courage and confusion and joy and fear flow back and forth through the gap. I realize that the hand isn't human, but there is still something raw and pure about the spreading connection. Suddenly, memories come tumbling through. Memories of powers. Memories of chains, of locks, of cages, of torture. Of desperateness and yearning. Of gleeful escape, running alone. Away and away and away. I begin to hear something... a song maybe. It grows stronger, and I can feel it too, in this place of warped senses. I am hearing through my own ears, although the memories keep flowing. Then somethings rights itself, fixes itself. They start to say something else, but it's as if our bubble pops. Suddenly the space I'm standing on is gone and I'm hurled backward. I catch a glimpse of a detective, a message. A wolf. A poet, maybe a minstrel. Just a glimpse, though. Not even sure if I did, or if it was the last of the memories before our hands were ripped apart, and I fall back, back, back. Zeros and ones swim before my eyes as I black out.

The blast hurls me back, but i hardly feel it as I collided with the rough stone wall. I land on my knees. I see a wolve, but before I can can for help men in black come from nowhere. 

My eyes dart back in forth in fear. Not again! 

I'm not sure what to write next........