**REVISED CHAPTER RE-POSTED 7/12/17
-I changed up a few things hopefully in better taste, hopefully everyone likes it. Nothing too major, same lines and sequences.
AN:
Disclaimer I own nothing.
The title is up in the air, it was originally Pink Floyd'sDo You Think You can tell, but I haven't bothered to write anything in years and can't find the right fit for this story yet. So please be gentle and forgive the lack of structure and the confusing nature of my horrible writing style.
! This will start off as snippets of a broken timeline to set the mood of the story. I hope it will help you better understand the main character's perspective, thoughts, and actions hopefully… Without further to do, let's starts this bitch up! Wuba Luba Dub Dub!
Summary: "Those who escape hell, however, never talk about it, and nothing much bothers them after that."-Charles Bukowski She didn't think she would be anything other than ordinary, didn't think they would lock her up for being a conduit. She didn't think Augustine would train her to kill her own kind. But she definitely didn't expect to be dumped in Seattle at the feet of her next target.
~oOo~
Inspirational song for this chapter by Norman Greenbaum"Spirit in the Sky"
When I die and they lay me to rest
Gonna go to the place that's the best
When I lay me down to die
Goin' up to the spirit in the sky
Goin' up to the spirit in the sky
That's where I'm gonna go when I die
When I die and they lay me to rest
Gonna go to the place that's the best
Curdon Cay: Sometime in the near future
Buried deep under thick walls of concrete and steel within the underground facility, the 'prison ward' has one steel lined vault door, and an small air vent that slowly blows stale air into the enclosed space. The soft whir of the overhead light echoes throughout the room as small drops of water stream out of the cracked ceiling, down the side of the wall, onto the corner of an old well-worn twin mattress. The room's only occupant lightly taps to its music on the material of their clothing. The clothes scratch their back when they drag themselves to their side and grunt uncomfortably. This is not unusual. Since the beginning of their stay, this guest hasn't been allowed the luxury of small comforts, seeing as the benefactors of her capture were more interested in her molecular structure than giving the subject of study anything more than a musty mattress with sharp springs poking into her side.
It wasn't always like this, was it? I can barely remember...
Thinking of the past brought back that familiar ache in her chest and scowled rubbing there harshly. It better not to feel anything.
Emotions made her sick. They would squirm their way around her chest, then into her stomach, and finally out through her mouth with that morning's meal onto the cold concrete floor.
Although it could just be the shit they shot me up with, she mused.
A long tendril of hair fell into view before another large clump followed, and she quickly with practiced precision placed they hair behind their head. Long hair was always a hassle it seemed. It had been a while since she last had a proper shower and groom, other than the off chance they shaved a chuck or two off. No matter, the length was a matted mess, and was beginning to get on her nerves. An itch tried to dig itself into the forefront of her mind.
Perhaps they would shave it off if you asked nicely she jested to herself. She shoved it off with a shake of her head, trying her best to ignore the soft scratching in the back of her skull.
It's been a while since the last meal drop, or the last anything.
Definitely the drugs then.
To put it lightly, it's been 18,653...4...5 drops since the slot above the steel door was last opened. And 85,703 drops before that the guard dragged her broken and bruised arse back into her cell. Time was just another comfort lost to her. It had been too long to remember what days and weeks felt like. Sometimes a month was just a moment, and then a moment turned into a lifetime. But much to her dismay and amusement 697,849 drops ago the ceiling cracked and time monopolized her thoughts like Rockefeller with Standard Oil.
Fuck this is boring.
Seriously the waiting was killing her. When were they gonna drag her out for more torture, tests, hazing her with more pain than she ever perceived to be possible? Time was a bitch, she thought. It was making her edgy, well more so than before when she just accepted the inevitability of torture instead of hedging off anticipation into oblivion
Just another day I suppose.
...
After a prolonged period of time to herself, they gave her what the guards, doctors, scientists, etc. (they're all the same here really) call a "bath". They have never cared about the overall cleanliness of their test subjects, (and there were others she assumed after she tried to count their screams, but lost count when the screams never ceased to echo in her skull) but she would say it was something more along the lines of being exposed to harsher temperatures and pushing the limits of their bodies, or hers in particular she thought. She suspected that the scientists were growing bored when they held her under for longer periods of time, but the shocks were new. They burned their insides and blackened her fingernails. Screaming wasn't possible when your lungs filled up with water and your lips turned blue.
The spectators finally got what they wanted as her eyes burned something fierce making her already blurry vision fucking hurt. The muscles in her limbs ached and cramped tightly as she bit the inside of her cheek open. Another pulse of energy ran through her system as she struggled against the gurney's metal bars caging her, and blood stained the water as it leaked from her mouth, and even more slowly her eyes. One of the technicians panicked as the water's temperature began to rapidly decline as the subject continued to trash and bend their strongest constraints. The girl's heart rate had skyrocketed as the surrounding glass frosted over and swallowed her visage whole. He stole his gaze from the subject to his superior monitoring from his glass box above, and cried into the mike hanging off his ear.
"Sir! The subject's physical is beginning to strain our equipment! All systems are shutting down or offline Sir!" He and the other techs on in the room were running across the lab floor from display to display as each screen flickered to black, and walls and floor surrounding the tank cracking under its overwhelming weight.
"The subject is out of control!"
"We need to get out of here!"
He couldn't wait for an order.
"Shut all Power down NOW!"
The technician never received a response when someone flipped the breaker switch and they were submerged in darkness; seconds later the whir of the backup generator sounded as the red emergency lights flickered over the lab's only exit. He rushed to the door's card-access only scanner swiping his pass with so much force his knuckles bled as they rapped against the metal over and over.
"COME ON WORK DAMN IT!"
He banged his fist on the door, kicked, and yelled to anyone that could hear him to let them out but received no answer. He could hear the others both pleading and cursing their benevolent god who watched from his throne above through a pane of glass, but they only continued to watch in sick amusement. The sound of muted cracking and groaning metal pierced the air like a sharp knife, louder than any bomb to their ears. They all turned and watched the low red light casting a foreboding shadow across the tank's icy interior-
A hand pressed against the glass
The tank exploded with shafts of twisted metal and frost, debris flew towards them at alarming speed as they tried to take cover where they could. Screams of terror washed over the room like a tidal wave when the impact hit the foundation columns and tons of rock gave way over their heads. Some braced themselves whilst others were simply crushed by the onslaught of broken machinery. Climbing out of the debris, miraculously the technician had somehow made it out pushing his way out with a few scratches and a dislocated shoulder.
Out of the corner of their eye she step out from the shadow
The cowering puddle of human filth ran towards the sealed doors, key card dropped carelessly on the floor before clawing his nails against the seams in desperation. She just kicked away a broken slab of concrete in her path as she walked over the broken bodies on the floor, soft lines protruding from her skin slowly curling around the contours of their face and limbs. The man slammed his uninjured side into unforgiving metal in desperation when he was lifted by the lapels of his collar to only see blood red sclera eyes and white hair fanning the sides of itsface.
His neck made a sickening crack before his corpse was deposited at her feet. Reaching down she nabbed the card from wet sticky fingers, before sliding it through the scanner. She frowned as the doors remained sealed. Looking around she took notice that the rest of the crew had been buried by the assault, but with a gleam in her eyes she conceded that the heavy body of a dearly departed cockroach could lend a limb or two. The door fell apart quite easily after that. The frozen corpse made a nice battering ram she jested as she walked with a jig in their step as she made her way down the hall.
As she rounded a corner, an assault team rushed her. One of the soldiers tried to hit her with a baton, she grabbed its middle and vaulted her legs around their neck, and severing the spine with a sharp twist. Three others aimed guns at her and fired, the bullets leading a frozen trail to the poor bastards, turning them into human popsicles before they could even blink twice.
All too suddenly another team doled out her punishment- the flash-bomb temporarily blinding her vision, the smoke dulling her senses and weakening her muscles, building her immediate panic but all too late. Her powers reaction time was too slow for the syringe of cerulean blue fluid descending into the back of her neck.
And then everything went black.
...
AN:
This story will have some pairings both canon and AU - and not exclusively with the OC, but a LOT will change as it continues and suggestions and requests are always available for this story or maybe a short one-shot on the side. Just PM or leave a comment in the make my day box with a small back story or reasoning for whatever you want; I'll consider it promptly and get back with you. Note that the romance genre isn't the focal point of this story (and hopefully a series in the future) I plan to exercise enough angst and mental breaks as much as I can across the board, so please don't hold out for it or keep your hopes up. Though I do promise to at the very least try to add some fluff now and again ***smiles painfully***
I want this to be nothing short of a suspenseful plot twisting feature with sour outcomes and tragic endings. Happy endings just don't appeal to me anymore as much as seeing people change in their actions, beliefs, and the views of their little world(s).
See you guys next time!~