Hey everyone, so this is my first Bane/Oc fanfic! I have a crappy old laptop right now so if words are missing, mis spelled, or the grammar is incorrect plz understand that 9 out of 10 times its the computer. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story. This opening was hard to do. Since I am still trying to figure the character out. But more will make sense later! I promise :) Don't want to give too much away!
Chapter 1: Cold Stones Heated By Flames
Oh please god. Oh please…
The sounds of tanks screeching across the frozen pavement caused my muscles to jolt.
He was coming…
I felt my blood pumping, my veins pulsing with the rush of circulation. The tingling in my arms was unbearable as I drove myself to break out in a damp sweat of adrenaline. I could not stop. Not for the pain in my chest or the sickening irritations that were erupting from my shins. My desire to live was far too great. Again sweat began to engulf my shirt as I increased my blistering stride. The frigid air bit into my lungs like vampire teeth.
I heard the rotation of the clanking tires and my mind buzzed frantically trying to decide where to hide. There? No. Just jump! No. God dammit just make a move! I felt nausea forming in the pit of my gut. The unnerving realization that I could get caught was hitting me. If Bane found me… Oh god…if he did…
I could not hold my turning stomach anymore. My mouth began to foam and then acid burning vomit coughed out of my throat. My back was bent over however; my legs were still trying to jog. Head spinning I continued. I made another couple of steps before I found myself on my knees puking my insides out. The gagging brought tears to my eyes. I could not get up. My body bruised, dehydrated, and my energy on empty, I had to sit and surrender to my sickness. I pushed it too far I was beyond my limit of endurance.
I could run; I could run miles and even as I tried I still failed. Bane knew it. He knew my body could only be pushed so far before breaking. Wheezing I had to except that fact. A halt was called out. I raised my heavy eyes to see a metal tank and a few soldiers advancing towards me. Was this really necessary? I knew I was going to die, but does it have to be made public?
I threw up at the thought. A glimpse said it all. My prediction was true my once guardian, protector was going to be my down fall.
What's it like out there?
What's it like to feel the sun, touch the ground, the soil, and the grass?
Is the breeze on your face like a soft kiss from the sky?
Or is it like they say? The outside, the world without walls, is even darker, more unpredictable than this prison I am caged in? Can't be true, they're wrong. I know there is life beyond needles, testing, and the constant emotional burden weighing down on my shoulders every minute of every day. This world has to offer more. More than what has been given to me.
I glanced down at the rusted cuffs that were skinning my bare flesh. The dried blood had crusted between the metal and my skin which caused me to want to scratch like mad. I headed towards the concrete wall (that I came to know so well) and placed my wrists up against the rough stained surface. I began to rake off the remaining raw wounds. The clawing of the cuffs on the walls caused a hair rising sequel to erupted from the cell. I drowned out the clamor of the other inmates, who cursed my habit. I guess you could say my need to rub my skin off was a psychological disorder. A disorder that causes a person to commit physical harm to themselves in order to receive comfort; basically I'm considered crazy. However; I know in my mind, the brain I was given is not insane. I scratch because of the irritating tingling I have radiating from my wrists.
The wall did not grant me much relief. I raised my hands to my mouth. Common, just do it! Endure the pain. I clamped down on the cuffs and wounds around it without much thought; I dug my teeth around the rusted edges. My mouth stung and filled with blood when the metal tore at my gums. I continued to pry at the cuffs, tongue numb and all, I pushed for results. Finally, after minutes of torture my satisfaction was found. The workers of the prison came in their white shinny clothes. Their clothes so pure of color made me sick. Here I was the shades of crimson and dirt, covered in nothing more than a cropped raged top with black shorts. And these workers, these assholes, of the world have higher privilege over me. Why? Because, they were born into class, into luxury and here I stand behind bars. I'm nothing more than a toy, a live object to disfigure, torture, or improve for someone's enjoyment. My own body is not respected. My mere existence in this world is so little that my death would simply be charted and my ashes discarded into a dumpster. I am a dime a dozen.
Blood had poured out the sides of my mouth. The red liquid ran down my checks, throat, and could be seen about to make its way to my torso. The workers mumbled in their own language. Their shitty foreign tongue caused me to cringe. I watched their stiff bodies robotically wheel in their stainless steel cart toward my cell.
Such practice, I thought to myself.
The workers were huddled together discussing their usual plan. I snorted. One of the Asian workers faced me with his typical annoyed expression. He was fed up with my behavior. Hell, I was tired of this game. A young male stepped forward, his short black hair was neatly groomed and his flawless completion was radiating under the florescent lights. My eyes darted towards his hands unlocking my door. I shifted my shoes impatiently on the brick pavement. My shoulders were tense with anticipation. This was taking forever. The young man did his best to try to hide the needle from my knowledge. He wrapped his fist tightly around the glass syringe and allowed his sleeve to become a shield. I felt a smirk creep across my lips.
A cocky son of a bitch, I whispered to myself.
My fingers twitched as he closed the bars behind him. The worker leisurely approached me with tired eyes as if I had just instructed his ass to get up at the crack of dawn. I stood perfectly still and kept my composer as he quietly reached for my neck. I kept my eyes fixed on the door.
Moments turned into seconds and before long timed seemed to stop.
I spun on my heels. With my left side of my hand I knocked the needle from the worker's grasp. The man's eyes were wild with disbelief. The syringe shattered on the ground, liquid leaked over the bricks and ran into the cracks of the ground. Without much hesitation I twisted my torso to gain momentum and let my leg kick into the stomach of my attacker. The young male sucked in air in an instant. His arms immediately wrapping around his inflamed gut. The other white men were scrambling to open my cell. I heard an alarm blaring through the halls. My attention snapped back to the asian man who was staggering towards me. He came at me with a balled fists. I swiftly crouched down missing a hit in the face. My hands held my balance on the cold ground as I shifted my full weight onto my arms and swung my legs at the stumbling worker. My feet collided with the man's legs. I sicking pop erupted as the worker fell onto the hard floor.
I rose from my position to come in contact with a electric rod shocking my side. I yelped in agony as my sore ribs felt the vibration. Don't stop! As the rod came at me again, I tucked my arm under the metal pole and pushed with my forearm to bounce the rod out of my new opponent's hands. The man's jaw dropped and I took clear advantage of the moment. My knuckles came full speed at his mouth. Another crack sounded the air and I saw the man collapse onto the bricks. His cries were drowned out as the echoing siren continued to ring from the speakers. More workers poured in front of my cell.
What the hell was I thinking! I can't take all of them on!
More rods, more needles, more cuffs had appeared left and right. My heard was exploding and my lungs were straining for air. I had not even taken one breath since I began to fight. Heck, I did not even feel the blood that was dripping from my knuckles. How could I focus on emotion? There was no time for second guesses! I was stuck in the moment the trouble I caused was here and now. Not later.
Again, another two workers swarmed into my cell each carrying their own equipment. I bit my tongue trying to decide was it better to surrender or still try for freedom? The men advanced in their steps, ever so slowly even though they should have been confident with themselves. After all, they had back up. I on the other hand was alone, defenseless, and losing confidence. I followed my eyes to the ground once more. The broken glass still laid at the base of my feet. Pain began to surge through my nerves as I gripped the sharp points. The men were advancing towards me with my options slim I found myself leaping at them full force. I landed on one man's chest. His white coated arms were giving my body quiet the beating. I slapped the man's limbs away and crushed my palm face down onto his eye. He squealed as I continued to shove my hand deeper into his socket. The blood oozed out as I kept the pressure on. I didn't care anymore. All I wanted was for all of them to feel the torturous pain I have felt all these years. The experiments that were conducted on me was only a fraction of the pain this worker was enduring. I felt another zap of electric bolts tingling up my exposed back. I hit the ground with a thud. I flipped on my side to see the dreaded white coats with black polished shoes. My vision was beginning to turn blurry. I swallowed a hard lump of blood caught in my throat. I did not fight as the cuffs were latched onto wrists once again. Another shock hit the nerves in my neck. I flinched and gritted my teeth to fight the trapped scream that wanted to erupt out of my chest.
I was being dragged down the hall. However; I did not struggle. My arms were lose and my neck hung low. No needle had punctured my skin nor was a straight jacket fastened around my body. I mean, why should they fear me now? I had lost the fight, right? Their workers out numbered me a hundred to one. Why shouldn't they feel cocky about leading me down the hall with just a rod against my back? After all, this tool made me collapse.
As we walked, I passed by endless stone walls. There was no light from the outside work. There was no noise other than the piercing alarm that was still altering everyone. No colors were unique. Brown, black, white and red were the only hues I came to know. As we rounded the corner of the hall I noticed exposed cords were dandling from the ceiling. Wonder what that is? I was shoved along toward another chrome engulfed room. I did not even need to take another step to know another test was going to be condemed on me. Pressure from the rod made me stumble forward.
"No!" I shouted.
I reared back all my weight fell onto the workers behind me. I felt them have to shift their weight in order to support my unexpected action. The men fumbled with their equipment by then I had gathered enough strength to kick three workers down. My gut was tight and I could feel my muscles flexing with every move I preformed. I ducked my head out of the way of an oncoming rod. I jerked my shoulders to the left. My elbow shot into my enemy's windpipe. I reached for the rod and the power it held was impressive. The workers dodge my rage as I raced down the hall. Coming to the dead end I looked around the corner to see nothing more than continuos walls. Nothing was useful to me. I could run back to my cell and pretend to play dead. That was about all I could manage at this point. By then my hands were being wrestled together by another person. I felt my body being lifted off the ground. No, no, no!
I raised my arms free from the tight restraint only for my rod to come in contact with the hanging wires. The sparks lit up full of bright colors and flared around as if they were alive. A loud explosion thundered into the ceiling as the dry wall from the roof began to crack. The lights popped and more booms pounded above. Hissing sounds from the cords sounded down the hall. The works all bent down to cover their head from the shattering glass and plaster that was falling. I decided to make a run for it. I ripped my wrist free and with a final punch to the man I was free.
More of the ceiling was caving in. I horrid black fog crossed in front of my path. I chocked and placed a hand over my mouth. The smell was awful, worse than anything chemical I had inhaled before. The smoke stung my noise. A door way was blocked by orange flames that were reaching out to get me. I backed away unsure of what to do. The workers were scattering in every direction, many were frantically running with red cans spraying cream foam onto the flames. I could feel the heat burning my skin. However; I was trapped. Another wall gave way and more smoke creeped around me. I was gagging for air, fresh clean air. My eyes teared up. My lungs felt like they were on fire. I took one last look around. All my exits were blocked other than this broken down door way. The roaring fire spat at me, as if to mock my hesitation. I through my weight back and jumped feet first into the doorway. I could feel my clothes hooked. The fire intensified as I struggled to fight my way out. I tugged at my shorts until I it ripped at the end. My feet tripped over some of the remains of the building. My skin was stinging. I clawed through the mess I landed in. I hurtled myself over plaster and thick heavy rocks. My knees were getting cut and my hands were blistering from the floor.
Finally, my struggle was over. I burst from the heated oven and out into the cool air...and open streets. Everything seemed still. The cries from the other captives was a hurtful reminder that they were still locked in their cells. The flames were feasting on them. I had not thought about them, about their freedom. The siren in the stone building was still going. I stood there, outside the walls, outside everything I knew and watched in amazement as the fire took away the cell I knew. It was an unsure feeling I had. I did not know yet if I was comfortable letting everything I had come to know die in front of my eyes. The screams were starting to drown as the flames roared. I took a step back.
Free, I was finally free!
As I turned around my stomach dropped. Men were gathered behind me in brown and tan colored clothes. Their eyes were fixed me and their shinny tool as well. What was that? What is that object?
A bulky man with defined muscles and a metal contraption enclosed around his face was the first to confront me. His size along, his presents was enough to make me weak at the knees. His combat boots clunked the ground as he made his way towards me. His attention was not at the building. His eyes were looking me up and down. I did not make eye contact with him, I did not want him to see the fear that had hit my insides.
"You were only partially successful." His voice was higher pitched than I expected, but still muffled by the mask that clung around his nose and mouth.
I did not look at him. Instead I eyed the long street that was a head of me.
Run
God I can't believe I was able to complete this first chapter! This was hard for me since I had to do an action opening. lol oh well had fun making it! Sorry again if the spelling, grammar, is not correct I have an old laptop that is not working to well! I will try to get it fixed!
Any plz comment. This was again my first Bane fanfic so yea :)
