Having somebody in your mind is a surreal feeling, like a fingernail etching it's way beneath the torn skin of a fresh wound. I can feel him, inside me, picking me apart and eroding away at the corners only I have seen. I think I'm screaming, I can feel my jaw tensing, the pressure in my throat, the escape of air from my lungs; but I cannot hear. I can not make out anything in the world around me, not visually, not audibly, my site and ability to hear has completely left me. I convulse my body, slam my form against the the metallic and cold surface beneath me. I twist and I turn, I kick and make it as impossible as I can possibly think for him to cling onto me. Yet, like a parasite, he digs deeper and holds on with an even stronger grip; hands clasp my wrists, shove me down and hold me, another pair finds my ankles, I am pinned. Never in my life have I experienced this sort of weakness, the accompance of strength somehow overriding my own.
...
He watches, towers over every individual in the room, even the broad and tremendous kryptonian who clasps the girls wrists down. Her scream pierces the air, its blend such a perfect concoction of different emotions that the slightest grin etches at the corner of his lips. Causing an individual pure terror is a thrill, an adrenaline rush that floods his entire being with a feeling of pure and strong hand rises to cover her mouth, but he stops him, cuts him off before he can even hover his palm above her lips, "Don't." His advisors nods curtly, removes his hand and goes back to her head.
Wires mark her forehead, splay out to her temples, marred with the slightest and smallest needles that find their way into her flesh. Her eyes are wide open but he knows she can't see, knows that in the place of vision is nothing but the deepest and most suffocating type of darkness. Her body jerks up, her wrists for a moment breaking free from the hands grasping them, no matter how much larger they are in comparison to her own. The girl makes it all the way up, sitting with her knees pulled to her chest, eyes wide as she tries desperately to see. Desaad reaches to grab her wrist, but she retaliates, fingers curling into her palm and wrist connecting with an audible crack to his face.
Even he is partially shocked, but more so, impressed; she was the right choice. "Kal, subdue her." For a minute he can see the hesitation in his "adoptive son's face", that underlining of him that no matter how many therapy sessions they perform can't be completely cut out.
She's moved from the bed, backed her way into a corner as she uses her hands to feel everything around her. Fingers sliding against her forehead, they grasp the wires, and then she pulls, each hair strand thin piece of metal buzzing with an electrifying current.
...
In amazonian combat, each and every sense acquired to the human body is used, no matter the instance. There is always the chance of being blinded, of losing your ability to hear due to an explosion or blunt force trauma; to many, losing both would be a death sentence. Luckily, she isn't most, the girl who was barely in her nineteenth year of life, the princess they snatched away like a fawn who had ventured too far from her mother.
There are no sandals at her feet, no form of barrier between her in the floor; this allows to her feel the movements around her, the vibrations of bodies surrounding her. She knows who the largest belongs to, him, but the second heaviest throws her off, and the third is nearly too light to be felt. Fingertips sprawling over a wall, she tries to fight something to throw, a crack to press her fingers beneath; she'll throw the entire damn wall if she has to. Although the buzzing wires have been ripped from her forehead, her eyes still refuse to pick up anything and no sound makes it way to her ears. Blood prickles down, clinging to her skin heavier than any tears.
Someone is moving closer, and being backed into the corner of a room is potentially damaging. In a final attempt, she lets go of gravity, smashes her entire form into the ceiling above. It rattles, an indent from her body caving in above her. That someone clasps her ankle, tugging her down with such strength that she is thrown to the floor, the bones of her left wrist snapping beneath. There is the want to scream, to revel in just a single moment of her pain, but time is not so forgiving, no matter the situation.
...
He's never met someone who was his equal in strength, who could break free from his restraints and manage to knock another man out while being blind and deaf. Pulling her to the floor took effort, so much so that he smashed her entire form into the floor, the crunch of her bones still ringing in his ears. Hurting people wasn't something he enjoyed, especially when his actions were directed at a terrified girl.
With her on the floor, Darkseid had brought his thumb down atop a small, grey button sanctioned on a slim piece of metal shard. Even though she had torn the wires from her head, they had already served their duty; the tiniest of androids, easily identified by the human body as red blood cells, had infiltrated through the veins at her forehead. From their, they would migrate to various parts of her body, allowing him control over certain aspects of her senses. He could shut her hearing off, disconnect her eyes from recognizing light, but even that wasn't the worst of it. The androids could clip to her nerve endings, allowing him to fill her body with as much pain as he felt was needed. Soon enough, the control pad would be implanted within his forearm, allowing him complete and ease of control. It was his first time testing his weapon, or more so his toy, and the thrill made his body buzz with excitement. He watched her scream, louder than the first time, an agonizing sound that would no doubt eradicate the hearing of common earthly beings.
Her form struggled, muscles twitching as she tried in vein to push herself up from the floor with her one good hand. Pressing harder, the screaming stopped, tears streaming down her cheeks, ocean blue eyes wide and siteless.
..
When the young woman awakes, she at first thinks she is still blind, panic threatening to bloom from her mind. Soon, however, she realizes that she is back in her cell, in the clutches of the damp walls and lack of light blanketing her in a crushing embrace. The dimmest of light peaks beneath the only crack beneath the cell door, an unnatural and beaming light. Still, she pulls herself closer, curled in front of that single and only lightforce, disparity clutching at the edges of her mind, voice a trembling note in a sea of silence,
"A prayer of protection I say this hour,
to keep me from harm's way
for all ill-will be turned and securely kept at bay.
Gaia herself, my protector be,
stands between me and all strife,
and cups inside her faithful hands the essence of my life.
Gaia Great Gaia, calm my heart,
and create in it a new.
Circle me with your motherness
as only you can do.
Before you there was nothing, then the Earth began;
Keep me safe I ask you please,
Until I pray again."
…
"I can not leave her to rot within his confinements." The god spoke, his thundering tone crisp yet crackling, "To become nothing short of a birthing capsule for his monstrosities." Zeus smashes his fist against the rippling water, the insight to his secret child's capture.
"Then what do you intend on doing? Telling Hera of another of your secret conceptions? If she finds out, the girl is permanently doomed."
"And what is she there, Athena? What hope does she have on a planet seeping in destruction, with that spawn of New Genesis?"
Athena meets her Father's questions with a glare; she herself had never met her secret little sister, the daughter of Hippolyta, amazon queen who was supposed to hate men the most. She knew all about the cover up, about the babe made of clay to the woman who wished so much to be gifted with motherhood. Rather, she was met with her child after a one night stand with the god known for freely fornicating with whoever and whatever he felt like. Regardless, she didn't wish the situation on anyone, especially the girl who knew nothing of her own birth.
"She's half god, she threw the kryptonian off her while blind and deaf. At the very least there, she isn't in the spotlight of Hera. If you bring her back, if you show favoritism to one of your bastards, you know it will start an outcry. There is no way for you to cover up your interest in her for something else."
He sighs, running the pads of his fingertips through his hair, "She doesn't even know what she's capable of. You saw him speaking, his plans for her, his ideas. If she carries his child, it will be the end of us all."
His only daughter by Metris, the eldest of all his children, crossed her arms over her chest, "We can't act, not yet."