The room he would wake up in was dark and damp with a thick and eerie silence that coated the charcoal gray colored brick. The cell was bare, with only a heavy locked door and the chains that held him in place. The detail was not as exact through the television, but she had been in the initiation room enough to know every nick and crack in the walls. Andrea Laura Russo crossed her arms over her chest, taking a deep breath as her mind began to wander. As the daughter of business tycoon, Augustus Russo, it was her job to welcome the new workers and train them in the elegant arts of the rich and famous so they could be 'auctioned off' nightly for the enjoyment of wealthy women that wanted something exotic and wanted it discreetly. True, in her opinion they were nothing but side pimps, but that wasn't her choice to make or her right to voice out against it. It was the family business. The Russo's were a wealthy family that stretched back hundreds of years. They were business people, even nobility in the Italian community. Now, in the 21st century, they owned a small but beautiful Mediterranean island that was tucked away from the crazy world. They were part of Tunisia, a little country tucked against Algeria and that bordered the Mediterranean. The island sat about 800 miles off the coast. The politicians were in her father's pocket, welcoming the extra tax revenue without asking any questions about the resort itself. That was the life she led without question. She could have anything she wanted, and already had everything she needed. But that didn't make her spoiled, even if most around her would assume she would be that way. No. Andrea had a level head on her shoulders, and a high intelligence that allowed her flourish among that atmosphere. She was rich, held a high education, great friends that enjoyed her for her own personality and she was beautiful.

Andrea stood at a petite five foot five inches without heels, with warm honey brunette hair and gray eyes that seemed like they could bore into anyone's soul. She had a heart shaped face, with soft cheeks bones that were naturally pinched pink and that same warm color traveled down her body to give her a healthy glow even if she wasn't tan. As of the moment, she was dressed to impress as business would call for. She wore long brown slacks that hugged her hips and flares out towards her ankles with a silk golden top that had a pull back tying sinch beneath her supple bust line. Walking towards the television, she brought the mutant's folder to her chest as she watched the new addition coming further out of the anesthesia they used to detain him.

The blue mutant's head rose, and he let out a long groan as he shook his head. The chains around his wrist, ankles and tail shook violently as he tried to pull himself free. It was obvious that the chemicals were still in his system at how clumsily he was jerking his limbs around. The man was shirtless, revealing his strong well toned chest and the wooden rosary beads that hung around his neck and bounced against his chest with each struggle he made. The only other thing that adorned him was slightly torn old brown nursing scrubs. They were loose, allowing room for the skin to breath in the damp conditions he was in.

"Looks like you found a fighter." a baritone voice behind her grumbled. Andrea turned her head from the mutant struggling on the screen to her father sitting at his desk. Augustus Russo was an older man, with graying hair that was slicked back from his paled and starting to wrinkled face. His expression always stoic, but there was a glisten in his lighter colored eyes every time he was speaking to his daughter. She was his only child, and his life after her mother died. That was the only thing in life that made him genuinely smile, her. Wearing a black suit with a red shirt beneath, he folded his fingers together and leaned back in his chair while gazing at her. She smiled lightly before opening the folder and speaking with a voice like a bell chime,

"Kurt Wagner, 25 years old. Called the Nightcrawler by the Munich Circus, his mutant powers exceeds his physical appearance and stretch to teleportation. A chip has been put in place to negate that particular part of his mutation." She said, pacing around her father's desk to stand behind him. He remained silent, just listening as his daughter continued. "He is German, and judging by the rosary beads he is a religious man. Multiple scars from childhood and adulthood abuse and accidents create a more rugged appeal for him. And according to our sources, the news of his arrival has sparked a lot of interest in our clients." Her father nodded in approval, holding his hand out behind him. Andrea handed her father the folder, folding her own hands behind her back as she awaited for him. The older man nodded, reading through the folder once more to verify the information his daughter just told him.

"You did well my daughter, as always." The woman smirked and walked forward to place her hand on his shoulder. He leaned back, his shoulders sagging lightly. Worry filled her eyes. Her father had not been of the best of health lately, always seeming a bit slower to react and getting tired a lot easier as well. He had a heart attack six months ago, and since then she was worried every time more of the color left his face. The tycoon never spoke about it with his daughter, he didn't want to worry her any further. But she wasn't a fool.

"Papa, are you alright?" She asked.

He turned slightly to look at her over his shoulder, reaching up and patting her hand with affection. "I am fine my dear." he said, nodding to her. "You know these old bones aren't what they use to be." She chuckled lightly. He was horrible at hiding things from her. But she wasn't going to push it.

"HEY!" The German's yells came muffled from the television. Andrea's head perked upwards, looking as he was struggling against the chains. He was awake now. She couldn't help but smirk as he was screaming at them in a mixture of German vulgarities and english, "Let ME OUT! LET ME OUT!" he repeated, jerking on his restraints. Andrea chuckled and watched the yelling German as he continued his shouts released from his prison.

"Sounds like he is awake." Augustus said, turning to glance over his shoulder at his beloved only child. 'You know what to do my dear." Andrea nodded, leaning down and kissing her father's cheek.

"OF course Father. I will take care of it." She assured him. Picking up the folder, she smirked as she glanced at the monitor at one more time. With her heels clicking against the hard marble floor, she had a natural sway and bounce in her step as she walked by many of the paid servants. They all paused their duties, bowing their heads in immense respect for one of their employers as she walked by. Andrea isn't just an employer. She was their advocate to her father, and that brought great care and respect for the young woman. Andrea approached a door, seeing a tall man waiting for her. He was maybe six foot, with a narrow frame and sharp facial features. His pitch black hair and piercing hazel eyes almost reminded her of Professor Snape. He was almost as serious as the fictional potions master. "Good evening Nathaniel. I see that you made out new guest comfortable." Nathaniel, supervisor of the slave quarters, nodded and opened the door for her. The man held a smirk on his face as he said,

"Like a bug in a rug." Andy couldn't even help but chuckle as they started down the long corridors to the initial holding cell. It wasn't all bad. Each slave had a room once initiated, and each room was well furnished and each slave given good meals and a comfy lifestyle. All twenty five of them were loyal to her and her father. And now, they were going to make the group number twenty-six as she approached the heavy set locked door.