A/N: See? I promised I would update. Sorry about the delay. I took a break from Evo, and now it's hard going back. Especially from I'm coming: Evo to Harry Potter and back again? Not easy, trust me. But I'm tryin', and I think you'll like the chapter. From the paper I wrote it on, it might be a tad long. Oh well, just more for you to enjoy. TTFN!
------------------------
I'm not in a cell anymore. I've moved up in the world. I now have a stone bedroom, no electricity but a fireplace. There's grating in the chimney. Impossible to move; believe me, I tried. And a real bed! Considering I slept on blanket covered hay for about two and half weeks, a cot with foam padding is a dream come true.
How did I get here? Easy. Starvation. Fang, my "guard", stop feeding me. Now whether he did it himself or it was ordered down, I don't know, nor care. The fact remains, that for days I didn't eat or drink. I didn't worry about the Professor knowing. He was locked up in a cell further away, this time being the glass that surrounded him prevented any thoughts from coming out. Or going in.
Anyway, I starved. Then one night, I laid myself down, knowing I wouldn't get up again. And in that moment before I closed my eyes, I realized that I didn't want to die. Not like this. The instinct that's the most basic and that exists in anything and everything that was ever borne kicked in. Survival. How, I'm not sure, I yelled at the top of my sore lungs. Yelled until I heard the clank of keys unlocking my door. It was then I blacked out.
I awoke to myself in the room that would become my own. I had been out for two days, in a coma. I learned that from the only housekeeper in the entire castle, an older woman that was tough as nails. She was okay, not mean nor nice. Rosa, she was called. She fed me for the next few days, and I slowly gained my strength back.
When I was healthy enough, she left me to take care of other things. I never saw her much afterwards. The last time I talked to her was when she handed me a bolt of cloth, a pair of scissors, needle and thread. She said that the order had come from my father for me to make a new suit, since my old one was in shreds. (The drug induced Sabretooth attack, remember?)
When she had left, I sat down on my bed and did some serious thinking. I had found something, something that changed my entire view on things. It was back in that moment. When the survival instincts kicked in, I had found something that I had lost. That was my will to live. I didn't want to die and by God I wasn't going to if I could help it.
So where did that leave me? Obviously he knew. Father, that is. I mean, why else tell me to make a new suit? He must think that since he broke me, starved me, and about damn near killed me twice, I'm at his mercy. And I guess from the way I'm acting he thinks I'm going back to his ranks. To train, to kill, to become his heir. And if that's true.... Well, let's just say why disappoint the man?
Oh don't worry. It would be no more than ruse. A ploy. And who better than the acting king himself, drumroll please, me! So I made myself that new suit. It was exactly like my old one, except a few things. One, the cloth was black, not light blue. Screw the light ha-ha shit. It's supposed to reflect the person, right? Well dammit, it's gonna.
Black. The lightning shaped stripe is now a dark silver, the other side of the spectrum from hair. It had grown out, faster than other people's. It wasn't long, but it was shaggy and rough, just shy of being below my chin. My bangs also grew, so they're still longer than the rest. They are now framing my face, shoulder length. I didn't really care how it looked any more, and in truth I kinda liked it. So I left it as is.
One last edition to the new me. A mask. There was mirror in the one corner, a little dirty, but you could still see pretty good. I had looked at myself, as soon as I could build up the nerve to. My face was permanently scarred. Remember I said that my vision was a little blurry in my right eye? That's because one of the claws ran over the left end of it. It's all whitened over, a blind spot. Also permanent by the looks of it. Guess I'll learn to live with it.
I was so thin. Even thinner than I had been before. And I was ghostly pale, like I was vampire or something. But the paleness made my blue eye and a half almost glow. I was intrigued, to say the least. But back to my mask. I made it so fitted, that you couldn't tell my face was scarred. Not one millimeter showed around my eyes or mouth. Handywork that I admire. I also left the top cut out, so my hair falls around me. When I was done, something was missing. So I added something, something to remind my father of what he did to me. Because believe me, he would pay someday.
I added silver slash marks, in the same place as my scars. When I first put the entire ensemble together and looked into the mirror, I didn't recognize myself. Who was this gaunt, worn figure with shaggy hair and glowing eyes? I wondered if any of the others would recognize me. Not the others here, the others out there. My brothers and my.... sister.
All this time, I had put Wanda out of thought. It was now time for me to think about her once more. It had been close to three months since I last saw her on that rooftop. In those three months things happened to me I doubt I'll ever tell her, if I ever see her again that is. You see, that talk with the Professor affected me more than I had cared to admit at the time.
I do care about Wanda. It's just that I don't think I'm a good enough brother for her. Why else would she hate me? Though right now, I'm not even sure she hates me. Being twins, we normally could sense what the other was feeling. And lately, I haven't felt any hate at all. If anything, I feel sadness, but that could be my own and not hers. So I when it comes down to it, I'm as confused and lost as I was when I first came here.
ONE MONTH LATER.....
I'm in top shape now. Hard to believe, huh? In one month I went from sickly gaunt to healthy muscled. Another plus in having a fast body. I've trained as much and as hard as I can. I'm now where the others were not that long ago and catching up pretty fast. I think even dear old dad is impressed.
So am I. I can now put my plans into action faster. I'm escaping. Getting as far as I can from this hell hole and tracking down the others. But to do so and keep a few steps ahead, I have to be in the best condition possible. Not just physically, but mentally. I need to keep my mind clear and lucid and have my wits about me at all times. I've started doing mental exercises, unbeknownst to the others, to highten my senses some. They'll never reach, say, Sabretooth's or Wolverine's level, but better than an ordinary mutant. If such a thing exists.
I knew I was ready when I beat Remy and Colossus at the same time. They were shocked out of their friggin' skulls! And so was I, to be honest. Because I knew then that the time was here. That I would be gone as soon as opportunity presented itself. And I didn't have to wait long.
While Daddy was out recruiting other mutants, I bolted. I pushed myself to my limit just to get as far away from that ghastly hell as possible. I ran for an hour, making sure to double cross my path, among other tricks, to keep Sabretooth at bay with his tracking. Then I hid myself as best as I could, and waited. As soon as they passed me by I was home free. I had to wait a full day and half before finally Sabretooth and Pyro decided to drop by. It seemed that I had been going to fast to leave a decent scent, so Vic was going on pure guess. And with him, that's a million to one hit. At best.
He passed on by, and I waited the rest of the day. Then when night came, I bolted, hungry and thirsty from my hiding place among some rocks. I told my feet to take me to Bayville, and followed them where they pointed me. I arrived mid-morning, now feeling familiar pangs of starvation. I gave up on dramatic entrances and just flew into the Brotherhood house to the kitchen. I was in luck, there was food!
I inhaled everything I found. It was only then it hit me. I stopped and listened. Silence. No one was home. But they had been, or otherwise the food wouldn't be there. I did super sonic search and came up with maps, plans, codes, and a mini obstacle course in the backyard. If I had to wager a guess, they would be attacking someplace.
THE CASTLE! Was my first and only thought. I ran out the door so fast it blew off its hinges. I had to warn them! They didn't know the things I did! Magneto would crush them, unless.... I had come to Bayville to help them, to warn them, and then stay the hell out of the conflict. Well, too late for that, because here I was running directly into the middle of it. And for only two reasons.
Revenge and to protect Wanda and the others from that bastard's wrath.
------------------------
I'm not in a cell anymore. I've moved up in the world. I now have a stone bedroom, no electricity but a fireplace. There's grating in the chimney. Impossible to move; believe me, I tried. And a real bed! Considering I slept on blanket covered hay for about two and half weeks, a cot with foam padding is a dream come true.
How did I get here? Easy. Starvation. Fang, my "guard", stop feeding me. Now whether he did it himself or it was ordered down, I don't know, nor care. The fact remains, that for days I didn't eat or drink. I didn't worry about the Professor knowing. He was locked up in a cell further away, this time being the glass that surrounded him prevented any thoughts from coming out. Or going in.
Anyway, I starved. Then one night, I laid myself down, knowing I wouldn't get up again. And in that moment before I closed my eyes, I realized that I didn't want to die. Not like this. The instinct that's the most basic and that exists in anything and everything that was ever borne kicked in. Survival. How, I'm not sure, I yelled at the top of my sore lungs. Yelled until I heard the clank of keys unlocking my door. It was then I blacked out.
I awoke to myself in the room that would become my own. I had been out for two days, in a coma. I learned that from the only housekeeper in the entire castle, an older woman that was tough as nails. She was okay, not mean nor nice. Rosa, she was called. She fed me for the next few days, and I slowly gained my strength back.
When I was healthy enough, she left me to take care of other things. I never saw her much afterwards. The last time I talked to her was when she handed me a bolt of cloth, a pair of scissors, needle and thread. She said that the order had come from my father for me to make a new suit, since my old one was in shreds. (The drug induced Sabretooth attack, remember?)
When she had left, I sat down on my bed and did some serious thinking. I had found something, something that changed my entire view on things. It was back in that moment. When the survival instincts kicked in, I had found something that I had lost. That was my will to live. I didn't want to die and by God I wasn't going to if I could help it.
So where did that leave me? Obviously he knew. Father, that is. I mean, why else tell me to make a new suit? He must think that since he broke me, starved me, and about damn near killed me twice, I'm at his mercy. And I guess from the way I'm acting he thinks I'm going back to his ranks. To train, to kill, to become his heir. And if that's true.... Well, let's just say why disappoint the man?
Oh don't worry. It would be no more than ruse. A ploy. And who better than the acting king himself, drumroll please, me! So I made myself that new suit. It was exactly like my old one, except a few things. One, the cloth was black, not light blue. Screw the light ha-ha shit. It's supposed to reflect the person, right? Well dammit, it's gonna.
Black. The lightning shaped stripe is now a dark silver, the other side of the spectrum from hair. It had grown out, faster than other people's. It wasn't long, but it was shaggy and rough, just shy of being below my chin. My bangs also grew, so they're still longer than the rest. They are now framing my face, shoulder length. I didn't really care how it looked any more, and in truth I kinda liked it. So I left it as is.
One last edition to the new me. A mask. There was mirror in the one corner, a little dirty, but you could still see pretty good. I had looked at myself, as soon as I could build up the nerve to. My face was permanently scarred. Remember I said that my vision was a little blurry in my right eye? That's because one of the claws ran over the left end of it. It's all whitened over, a blind spot. Also permanent by the looks of it. Guess I'll learn to live with it.
I was so thin. Even thinner than I had been before. And I was ghostly pale, like I was vampire or something. But the paleness made my blue eye and a half almost glow. I was intrigued, to say the least. But back to my mask. I made it so fitted, that you couldn't tell my face was scarred. Not one millimeter showed around my eyes or mouth. Handywork that I admire. I also left the top cut out, so my hair falls around me. When I was done, something was missing. So I added something, something to remind my father of what he did to me. Because believe me, he would pay someday.
I added silver slash marks, in the same place as my scars. When I first put the entire ensemble together and looked into the mirror, I didn't recognize myself. Who was this gaunt, worn figure with shaggy hair and glowing eyes? I wondered if any of the others would recognize me. Not the others here, the others out there. My brothers and my.... sister.
All this time, I had put Wanda out of thought. It was now time for me to think about her once more. It had been close to three months since I last saw her on that rooftop. In those three months things happened to me I doubt I'll ever tell her, if I ever see her again that is. You see, that talk with the Professor affected me more than I had cared to admit at the time.
I do care about Wanda. It's just that I don't think I'm a good enough brother for her. Why else would she hate me? Though right now, I'm not even sure she hates me. Being twins, we normally could sense what the other was feeling. And lately, I haven't felt any hate at all. If anything, I feel sadness, but that could be my own and not hers. So I when it comes down to it, I'm as confused and lost as I was when I first came here.
ONE MONTH LATER.....
I'm in top shape now. Hard to believe, huh? In one month I went from sickly gaunt to healthy muscled. Another plus in having a fast body. I've trained as much and as hard as I can. I'm now where the others were not that long ago and catching up pretty fast. I think even dear old dad is impressed.
So am I. I can now put my plans into action faster. I'm escaping. Getting as far as I can from this hell hole and tracking down the others. But to do so and keep a few steps ahead, I have to be in the best condition possible. Not just physically, but mentally. I need to keep my mind clear and lucid and have my wits about me at all times. I've started doing mental exercises, unbeknownst to the others, to highten my senses some. They'll never reach, say, Sabretooth's or Wolverine's level, but better than an ordinary mutant. If such a thing exists.
I knew I was ready when I beat Remy and Colossus at the same time. They were shocked out of their friggin' skulls! And so was I, to be honest. Because I knew then that the time was here. That I would be gone as soon as opportunity presented itself. And I didn't have to wait long.
While Daddy was out recruiting other mutants, I bolted. I pushed myself to my limit just to get as far away from that ghastly hell as possible. I ran for an hour, making sure to double cross my path, among other tricks, to keep Sabretooth at bay with his tracking. Then I hid myself as best as I could, and waited. As soon as they passed me by I was home free. I had to wait a full day and half before finally Sabretooth and Pyro decided to drop by. It seemed that I had been going to fast to leave a decent scent, so Vic was going on pure guess. And with him, that's a million to one hit. At best.
He passed on by, and I waited the rest of the day. Then when night came, I bolted, hungry and thirsty from my hiding place among some rocks. I told my feet to take me to Bayville, and followed them where they pointed me. I arrived mid-morning, now feeling familiar pangs of starvation. I gave up on dramatic entrances and just flew into the Brotherhood house to the kitchen. I was in luck, there was food!
I inhaled everything I found. It was only then it hit me. I stopped and listened. Silence. No one was home. But they had been, or otherwise the food wouldn't be there. I did super sonic search and came up with maps, plans, codes, and a mini obstacle course in the backyard. If I had to wager a guess, they would be attacking someplace.
THE CASTLE! Was my first and only thought. I ran out the door so fast it blew off its hinges. I had to warn them! They didn't know the things I did! Magneto would crush them, unless.... I had come to Bayville to help them, to warn them, and then stay the hell out of the conflict. Well, too late for that, because here I was running directly into the middle of it. And for only two reasons.
Revenge and to protect Wanda and the others from that bastard's wrath.
