A/N: Quix again.... Oh, and thanx 4 the reviews!
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I shivered. Up here, in this lonely tower, there's no source of heat, except for the small fires burning here and there. I wasn't lucky enough to have one. Not that I expected one anyways.
Why am I up here? Shackled to the cold stone walls and subjected to freezing temperatures? Because I made a mistake. One simple, trivial mistake. He took much offense to it.
I think it had been the last straw. The one to break his back, so to speak. I was locked up with Sabretooth. He had been given a hallucinogen. He saw not me, but Wolverine. You can imagine the beating that ensued.
Now this had happened before, but he had taken it to a new level. Never had he induced Sabretooth with a drug reverie, but just told him to pretend I was Wolverine. Now he thought I actually was.
I'm now scarred for life. Not just mentally. Vic managed to claw my face. I now have four slashed running parallel across my face, from the upper left to the lower right. One claw passed right over my right eye, scratching it some. My visions a little blurry.
I'm broken. Not just physically from the beating. I have lost the will to live. To survive. He knows this. He's won control over me. If I wasn't shackled to this wall, I would've jumped from the open window across from me long ago. He knows that, too. He's torturing me, showing that I can't even end the pain through suicide. Only he can end the pain....
The others.... Gambit, Colossus, and Pyro.... Hell, even Vic. They watched as he broke me, they know that he can do that to them as well unless they follow his lead. They don't want to end up like me, a pathetic loser excuse for a son. Right now I have no doubt he hates me more than any of the X-Men or Mystique.
Or even you, sister. Did you think in this broken state I'd forgotten you? Au contraire, my evil half. I will never forget you. You're probably sitting back laughing at me, taking pleasure in my pain. Why not? You always did before.
Yes, you love your torture. You'd make a sane man mad, and mad man even more mad. Drop the 'pity me' act. So what he left you in an asylum? You weren't dropped off at some dingy, poor, starved orphanage with little hope of being more than another piece of white trash on the sidewalk of New York City? I only escaped by pure dumb luck and chance of fate. Look where it got me.
At least on the street I could have a meager living. Steal food and other stuff, keep the cops at bay, and have some hope. But no. Here I am, locked away, a few paces away from ending all the pain and suffering and I can't even do that.
Have you ever been afraid of someone, Wanda? I've never have. I'm not afraid of death, I want it, I crave it, I NEED it..... But even that wish can't come true. Suppose by now I should be used to it, shouldn't I?
But death will come soon. He hasn't fed me in two days, and as fast as my body is, that's like four weeks for you. I'm allowed a cup of water a day. That is, if the guard remembers. He'll probably come and save me at the last minute, making me depend on him and forcing me to trust him, yet again. Not this time. As soon as he lets me go I will take all the strength I have and sling myself out the window. Unless I'm already dead.
I'm willing myself to die....
I don't want to survive.....
----------
I shivered. Up here, in this lonely tower, there's no source of heat, except for the small fires burning here and there. I wasn't lucky enough to have one. Not that I expected one anyways.
Why am I up here? Shackled to the cold stone walls and subjected to freezing temperatures? Because I made a mistake. One simple, trivial mistake. He took much offense to it.
I think it had been the last straw. The one to break his back, so to speak. I was locked up with Sabretooth. He had been given a hallucinogen. He saw not me, but Wolverine. You can imagine the beating that ensued.
Now this had happened before, but he had taken it to a new level. Never had he induced Sabretooth with a drug reverie, but just told him to pretend I was Wolverine. Now he thought I actually was.
I'm now scarred for life. Not just mentally. Vic managed to claw my face. I now have four slashed running parallel across my face, from the upper left to the lower right. One claw passed right over my right eye, scratching it some. My visions a little blurry.
I'm broken. Not just physically from the beating. I have lost the will to live. To survive. He knows this. He's won control over me. If I wasn't shackled to this wall, I would've jumped from the open window across from me long ago. He knows that, too. He's torturing me, showing that I can't even end the pain through suicide. Only he can end the pain....
The others.... Gambit, Colossus, and Pyro.... Hell, even Vic. They watched as he broke me, they know that he can do that to them as well unless they follow his lead. They don't want to end up like me, a pathetic loser excuse for a son. Right now I have no doubt he hates me more than any of the X-Men or Mystique.
Or even you, sister. Did you think in this broken state I'd forgotten you? Au contraire, my evil half. I will never forget you. You're probably sitting back laughing at me, taking pleasure in my pain. Why not? You always did before.
Yes, you love your torture. You'd make a sane man mad, and mad man even more mad. Drop the 'pity me' act. So what he left you in an asylum? You weren't dropped off at some dingy, poor, starved orphanage with little hope of being more than another piece of white trash on the sidewalk of New York City? I only escaped by pure dumb luck and chance of fate. Look where it got me.
At least on the street I could have a meager living. Steal food and other stuff, keep the cops at bay, and have some hope. But no. Here I am, locked away, a few paces away from ending all the pain and suffering and I can't even do that.
Have you ever been afraid of someone, Wanda? I've never have. I'm not afraid of death, I want it, I crave it, I NEED it..... But even that wish can't come true. Suppose by now I should be used to it, shouldn't I?
But death will come soon. He hasn't fed me in two days, and as fast as my body is, that's like four weeks for you. I'm allowed a cup of water a day. That is, if the guard remembers. He'll probably come and save me at the last minute, making me depend on him and forcing me to trust him, yet again. Not this time. As soon as he lets me go I will take all the strength I have and sling myself out the window. Unless I'm already dead.
I'm willing myself to die....
I don't want to survive.....
