I wrote this as a piece of my later story line Than includes Who we really are/ Haunting/ Hush little baby and others I have yet to write. I needed to get it out of my head before I lost it. So here it is... Hopeless:
I dreamed of this for the longest time. Maybe today would be the day. I sat in my cell, it was a day like the hundreds before it. Maybe today would be the day that they would kill me.
I clung to my cold tile floor as I always did. The white coats came in as usual; their threats were heard and injections given. I've given up fighting them, what was the purpose, I'm only one person.
The compound was in the employ of over 2,000 staffers. This number included over 1000 guards, 500 researchers, 400 soldiers, 50 orderlies, 30 medical assistants, and 20 round the clock scientists.
This place was secluded. It was on an arctic island, somewhere in the middle of the ocean and no mans land. The compound was hidden; underground to be more precise. The cold metal structure was hidden under a never ending blanket of ice and snow.
I had never seen the outside, but I would hear things when the staff would talk. "I swear, today I got lost. Every single snow drift looks exactly the same." They would talk about the snow all of the time, how it agitated them, how they hated that they were away from home. I always wondered what they would do in my situation; there was no going home for me, I was stuck.
My home was thousands and thousands of miles away, I knew I would never see the faces of my loved ones again if they had anything to do with it. They would never see my face again. The mystery of my disappearance would never be solved because I will die here. This unfurnished, cold, decrepit room would be my coffin, I guess this would suffice, I was going to be dead anyways.
I laid there on my cold tiled bed. It was comforting now, especially after the operations. They didn't give me any pain meds. I would lay there on the damp floor writhing in pain and no one would care. I had even tore open stitches running down the side of my spine.
There was so much blood I didn't know what else to do than scream. The guards did not even check in on me. It took them two hours to check, and that was only because the doctors were coming in to see me. The doctors panicked; they yelled at the guards for not paying enough attention to me. At least they cared about me; if not me at least the experiments they had preformed on me.
Today there was something in the arctic air. It seemed somber, like something not so good was going to happen. The halls were quiet. They usually are quiet, but they seemed to quiet as if I was all alone. I wished with all my might that they would just disappear and leave me to die on my own of starvation or infection; it would be better than what they had planned.
The concrete and steel walls effected me mentally; so gray and governmental it was sickening. I would hallucinate; they would walk through the doors of my cell and I would spring into action as I had when there was still strength in my body. I dedicated the entire room to memory in the off chance I might get out of here. I would destroy it, the walls would crumble and fall on fire. My hands would take the lives of whom ever had hurt me; so I would just kill everyone, especially Bolivar Trask.
For the dreams of revenge kept me alive this long. I would make his heart stop before my life ended to ensure this wouldn't happen again. It was almost orgasmic thinking of the ways I would kill him. I wondered if I was crazy, if I was there was good reason for it. Torture everyday of my life since he took me away from my x-men. The operations, the abuse by the guards and orderlies, the knowing I'll never see my home or my friends again.
I lived in my overly crowded mind. My psyches kept me company, they made me more comfortable with the circumstances. At least, in my head I wasn't alone; I had everyone that was taken away from me so, I just waited and wished to die.
On todays specific agenda I was to be in the operating room, but the plans were changed. Was it sick that I wanted them to come in and take me to the operating room, I was in the mood for company. I wanted to act up so, they would have to come in to beat me; hopefully one of them would get carried away and beat me to death. Sick, I know. My morbid mind kept me entertained in the endless hours of silence.
I pulled the hospital gown they left me in to feel the cold of the floor on my feverish body. I don't know if it was me adjusting to the extreme cold or if I had caught an infection. I was mentally here, where I was at times. Others, lets just say that it was to painful to be mentally elsewhere.
The scabs also known as the orderlies walk in. They say "Okay freak, lets go." The big one; 6'5 and three hundred pounds turns me onto my back. Looking into my eyes, he wraps his hands around my neck and barks out "Mutants like you are dogs. They serve their purpose for a while, then it's time to put them down. Just a mangy little creature," he looks over his shoulder at the other orderly "When they misbehave ya just kick 'em in the nose." He looked back into my eyes and I spat in his face.
Enraged he drops his hold of my throat and kicks as hard as he can. His winter boot hit my face so hard the other orderly heard the bones break. The damn bastards laughed as the blood pored from my now disfigured nose.
Insanity overtook me and I laughed. My laughing just pissed him off. He knelt over and I spat my blood all over him. Before I knew it his massive fists slammed into my face over and over. I could feel the bruising start. He struck me again and the skin that rested on my cheekbone ripped open. He looked down on me, his smile was smug like he had resolved a problem; I wouldn't let go of my 'Punishment' than easily.
The orderlies bumped fists and I antagonized him. I stood up, my small frame was engulfed my his massiveness. I smiled up at him, in his eyes I could see the fury burn. His leg was fast as it struck me in the gut. I laughed an insane laugh, I wanted more, I wanted him to hurt me.
I made it to my knees and he knocked them out from under me. My mouth hit the ground so hard that I felt my front tooth lodge inside of my gums, it didn't take long for the blood to come. I tasted the flavor, it was a rusty salt mix. My face throbbed so, I held it and he mocked me. His mitt of a hand lay over his greasy looking cheek; I was pissed. I swung at him, but his massive arms caught my week twig of an arm.
The next thing I knew he had me very close to the ground. His booted foot came down on my arm and the pain smothered in a scream in my throat. The bone began to poke outward to my skin. My arm hung lazily at my side; I couldn't feel the pain anymore, it was replaced by the adrenalin. A thought crossed my psychotic mind; 'If I kept this going this guy would definitely kill me.' A smile so twisted and masochistic spread across my face, I could even see the guard getting creeped out.
Was it so bad to want to die in my situation? I knew they would never let me free, willingly. If I pissed this guy off so much he killed me, I would finally be free; right? If the situation were different people would have me committed, but now it didn't matter. I would prefer a psychiatric ward over my own personal Auschwitz.
I limped closer to him, as I closed the distance instinctively they took a step back as I took one forward. The smaller orderly said from behind the large one "Show 'er who's boss." The grizzly of a man came at me again; I didn't flinch, I'd never flinch. He hit me so hard with his massive hand that I went straight down without a fight.
In a haze, I saw to white streaks run into the room. Their voices were a blur; I couldn't hear anything, I could barely see. One of the blurs sounded angry, I could hear it in the persons tone; almost evil. The other ran over to me; the colors and shapes were blurring together and I couldn't tell who it was, a scientist or an orderly.
My head was propped up on someones knees and I knew it wasn't an orderly. The gentle hands grazed over my wounds; the ice cold fingertips felt good against my fevered bruises and gashes. I could hear the scientist begin to panic because I didn't respond to his or her voice.
A few words came in clear "Maybe a concussion" the young scientist yelled to the orderlies to go and get the gurney so they could take me to operating and fix me up.
I could see the cement of the halls flashing by in an intense blur; nothing made sense, nothing stood still. As her mind stood still the world around her was in a race. Time was on their side was pure bad luck for me. I was bleeding internally, but not as bad a I wished; they had time.
In a dark office a long way away from the operating table; Bolivar Trask sat behind his desk and watched. He saw the young mutant on the operating table, her flesh being ripped open by an surgical scalpel. As the crimson red blood pored out of her pale white skin he laughed knowing her intent. He watched the expressions on her face change in the room with the two orderlies. She was determined; determination pushed her to the brink.
She didn't care if she lived or died anymore. He knew that his plans were now in motion. He broke her spirit and he knew that it was just a matter of time 'til she would be his best creations; a super soldier that was more superior to the rest. He turned to his associate in the dimly lit office. His smile was triumphant. He was in the process of saying something military, but changed his mind and settled for:
"When hope dies so does fear. When fear dies, nothing else matters to the fearless. They don't care about well being or any type of being. All the fearless know are the extremes they will go to to become hopeful for any length of time.
"Trapped in a hopeless, fearless existence will warp the mind of a once strong individual. It will create something without a conscience, something that doesn't care about anything but its self. And in this, we get ... well, we get everything. With this, we can wipe the mutant menace from the planet and have no need to send innocent human lives into battle when we have our mutant pawns."
As the two men sat in the office in front of the large security monitor; they lit cigars in celebration knowing that their plans would be within their grasps in a very short time.