There was no light, only an abyss. And because of her ability to push people with her mind no contact with the outside of her cell was allowed. But this didn't hamper her hearing. No, their methodical planning couldn't protect them against her ever heightening hearing. Everyday it became more acute, something she didn't share with them.
She lay where they tossed her, the cold of the anamantium floor eating through her cheek. The cold was a blessing tonight, it would keep the swelling down on the bruises. 333 closed her eyes ignoring the pin prick sensation on her newly shaved head. It was always a clue that something was going to be happening whenever they shaved the Other's heads. The hair was kept short, barely there to begin with but when it was completely bare it meant something was coming.
Her wrists were bleeding from being bound to the ceiling, hanging, her weight bending the wrists and hands at an unnatural angle.
333 let her breath out slowly making note that her ribs were almost healed and listened. She focused past the screams in the night from guards taking liberties with some of the weaker Others. Ones that were bound to participate in the Harvest against their will. Beyond that she found the voice of her Keeper and a subordinate.
Fear was creeping into the subordinate's voice.
"I want you to bring in 834 for tomorrow's demonstration. We have the new arrival coming and need to ensure that 333 is prepared."
The soldier for hire cleared his tightening throat. "You want 834 released on her? His destructive nature might prove dangerous to the plans already set in motion for 333 and this new subject known as Wolverine."
The sound of flesh meeting flesh was a distinct sound making 333 hone her hearing even more. Rumors were being spread through the labs that this Wolverine subject had been taken from another facility. Stolen.
"Don't question me," the Keeper ordered. "I am fully aware of what is coming. I am the one who arranged it, but 333 must learn that someone must pay for the little things."
333's stomach twisted uncontrollably at the statement. Little things? He was no more than a man (even that was too good for him) considered the rape, brutal beating that resulted in a long drawn out death of Dr. Angelina Johnson at the hand of 834 under his orders insignificant. His blatant disregard for life fueled the fire that was growing inside of her to escape.
The doctor's death was on her hands after all. She shoved back the emotions welling inside her recalling the sounds of the woman screaming at the hands of 834. The orders were a direct result of the doctor attempting, and failing, to free 333 from the concrete world of blood and death that she has only known. The poor woman sacrificed her life unapologetically believing that 333 was different from those around her.
"I will break her," the Keeper said finally. There was a hint of pride and anticipation in his gravely voice.
Not before she killed him. 333 sat up in her cell narrowed her eyes at the wrists that were weak from the strain. Knowing what demonstration was coming, She ripped the sleeves off of the sweater using the fabric to strengthen them, tying off the ends with her teeth. When it came to 834, there was no room for error or weakness. She closed her eyes breathing deeply in a steady rhythm recounting her last one on one encounter with the giant, it hadn't gone so well for her thanks to the meddling of electrodes. The memory faded as she breathed. The thing she treasured most in life would never be taken away. She could feel and that was her motivation.
Never again would she allow this to happen. She was alive. 333 waited squared shouldered, spine straight, chin high unwilling to surrender. 333 was going to finish this, she was going to sacrifice all to end this. The door opened in slow motion. 333 was not a slave nor was she going to be taken alive by 834 again.
This was only the beginning.
His shoulders were so broad that they barely fit through the door and he had to duck his head to fit into her small cell. Skin darker than hers rippled over muscles that contracted in anticipation. 834 was the perfect specimen of muscle. It's all he was comprised of, there was very little between his ears. His arms were almost the size of one of the Jeep's batteries on the facility lot. Where he excelled in strength, he lack in finesse. At times, being the strongest wasn't the key. Sometimes, you couldn't muscle your way through a fight, you had to use your agility and finesse your way through it.
333 arched her brow at him as a smirk spread across his thick face. His confidence, heightened aggression genetic trait, and bulk would be his downfall.
His heavy fingers flexed, the genetic trait that belonged to him thickened his natural nails making them his weapon. They were longer and came to a point, stained red from 834's day. The door began closing behind him to seal them to their fate. 333 focused her mind on the guard outside the door twisting his weak mind until he flings his baton inside the cell just as the door is sealed. Without looking, she caught the weapon in her hand taking a slow deep breath, ready for his move.
333 quickly calculated the moves available in the space, adding the math. His right hand reached for her with surprising speed. Never one to underestimate, she blocked him with her left arm using the baton in her right as an extension of herself. She used his height only having to lower her body a fraction swing the full length of the baton across his abdomen using the momentum her body carried twisting under his extended right arm. Using the palm of her left hand she stood by his side angled up hitting him squarely in the jaw knocking the giant off his balance.
She turned to him while he regained himself, waiting patiently. The plan was in place, the trick was waiting for him to use his nails on her then she could kill him so throughly that there would be no hope of him coming back. But he had to be aggravated enough. The hits wouldn't hurt someone of his genetics and girth though it certainly pushed his buttons.
He came back at 333 this time with both hands, she simply arched backwards using the agility that came with her own genetics leaving him to grasp air. Continuing the motion she arched, hands on the floor brining her legs around with the centrifugal force kicking him under the chin. In one fluid motion she completed a full circle returning to her stance.
His face began to betray him.
Claws came at her, 333 spun feeling the sting of them removing her flesh but it was worth the price. She brought the baton up using his nails to score the metal. She dropped to her knees keeping the
priceless weapon under her body, guarding it while the right claw came down slicing through the skin on her thighs. It was worth the price. Blood flowed freely from the wounds on her side and legs but she didn't care. The left claw attempted to make twin actions upon her body but 333 spun on her knees holding the baton out using his sharp nails to make the final score on the weapon effectively cutting it in half. She smiled at what was left behind. Two of her own sharp points.
She quickly spun the weapon in her hand so it rested against her forearm and sliced along 834's abdomen drawing blood. He doubled over in pain reaching blindingly down for her head but she was too quick. 333 ran at the wall gripping the weapons in her hands, used the concrete cell to flip off of, arching her back executing a perfect flip landing behind him. She pivoted on her heel slicing through his back. She took the other half of the baton and ran it through the side of his neck arterial spray fallowing a curve along the wall next to her.
There was no desire to use her mind to force 834 to do her will. She wanted to do this by hand. Carefully she walked around the man standing like a pillar in the room his hands clutching his neck. The Others were killers, it was their design. But it wasn't something she herself enjoyed or took pride in. This time it was necessary. To ensure that there was no possible way to retrieve him from death, this had to be an absolute kill. Organs could be fixed or replaced, blood can be substituted.
His eyes were wide with surprise. She could hear Doctor Angelina Johnson's screams in her head still, the woman's fear and pain still etched into her being as it flowed from her in her final moments. Feel every wound as if they were her own. There was no regret, no room for it. He wouldn't do this to another. He had gone on for too long doing the Keeper's bidding and let free to satisfy his morbid curiosities. No more.
She took one half of the baton dripping with scarlet tears and rammed it into his chest. His scream didn't reach her ears. The thickness of his muscles made the stab too short to be as effective as she desired but that wasn't a problem at the moment. 333 secured the last remaining half of the baton in her left hand and swiped it with such a force across the front of his throat it quieted his screams.
834 went to his knees with a painful crack, his face becoming pale.
The slice along his abdomen had been a full thickness laceration spilling his intestines on the floor. She tried to ignore it. The best she could do for him now was kill him. Who would want to come back from this? Performing a roundhouse kick, she sent the broken baton embedded in his chest completely through his heart. It stopped its frantic beating, finally at peace. 333 walked forward gripped his head in her hands and twisted.
It was done now. They couldn't bring him back.
333 sat along the wall looking at what she had done and listening to her Keeper in the security of the hall.
"It's like watching ballet when she fights with her hands," he said with some pride in his voice.
The guard in the hall with him shifted his weight nervously. He must be the one she pushed to give her his baton. 333 looked up at the camera in her room aware that they were monitoring her on the other side.
"It happened quickly," the guard remarked.
"She is the creator of this fighting technique. Fifteen years ago she found a flaw in our mathematics for fighting and refined it. Our kill rate has gone up eighty percent thanks to her efficiency. And no one does it as well as that sack of meat," he continued on monotone.
There was a familiar clicking sound, a hand gun's hammer being cocked.
"Besides, it would have lasted longer if you hadn't failed to resist her," and he pulled the trigger.
She could hear him run his palms over his slick clothing, "We really must pressure R&D for those helmets."
They were attempting to discover a way to block her thoughts from those vulnerable around her. She closed her eyes controlling her breathing.
This is only the beginning.
