Wow! I have more reviews than I can credit here, so thank you so much to
everyone! Miracle Chick, it's so nice to have a fan.
This story, it turns out, will be 12 chapters long. I've written all but one, so hopefully chapter updates will be often.
To everyone who is worried about Freddy, Todd, and Pietro- keep reading. You might have a right to be.
I once read somewhere that Pietro cries silver tears because of his mutation (something about the fluid making him more aerodynamic, I guess). If this is wrong, please tell me.
On with the show!
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The hallways in this place are full of ghosts.
Many mutants have walked their last mile down these cold walls, their hands chained, lead by guards that held them in contempt. They were prisoners headed toward execution, and their crime was being the possessor of an active X gene. Some chose to walk with their head high, going out in a moment of dignity; others had to be half dragged to their deaths. None of the guards ever called out "Dead man walking!" like in the old prison films, but perhaps that was only because in this place, mutants were not generally thought of as men.
Pietro and Todd were walking that last mile now.
Through a silvery curtain of tears, Pietro stared at the ground, watching the floor bob up and down as he marched the hall. A glance in Todd's direction confirmed that the frog boy's endless torrent of tears had finally ceased. Pietro was a little taken aback, but he guessed that no one could cry forever.
He turned his blue eyes to the surrounding hallway. Tall and metal, like the rest of the building, it was flanked on both sides by unmarked doorways. 'I wonder how they know where to go,' Pietro thought. He was beginning to feel a little dizzy.
The guard halted in front of a steel door, same as the rest, while Todd's guard continued to lead him onward. Pietro felt a sharp tug on his torn and dirty shirt, and saw that Todd, in his desperation, was hanging on for dear life. "Don't leave me!" he shrieked, just before the guard yanked him away to another door. Pietro could only watch sadly. None of this could be real, could it? They weren't *really* going to die, were they?
Pietro was led into a very small, steel room, like a miniature version of his cell. The only differences were the dim lights, a stark contrast to the bright lights of the halls, and the observation window on the far side of the room, which peered into a much larger cell. The speed demon watched through this window as a guard half lead, half dragged Todd into the big room.
"ON YOUR KNEES!"
Todd complied, perhaps only because his legs no longer possessed the ability to hold him up. To Pietro, it looked as though he were about to piss himself. The guard nodded to his left, and three others walked in. They stepped up to Todd, pulled out their nightsticks, and proceeded to hit him.
Pietro winced, but this wasn't so terrible. They'd all been through this almost twenty times before, and Todd frequently took the brunt of it.
"Smack!" The sticks continued to fall, connecting with every exposed inch of Todd's body. Todd, in a weak defense, had tucked his head under his hands, so they beat his hands, breaking all his fingers one by one. He screamed and screamed, pleading to no one for help. They kicked him in the stomach, causing him to cough up blood. "Ahhh! Help! Someone! Ow!"
Pietro was getting really worried again. They should have stopped by now. It never went on this long before. They were *really* hurting him. Suddenly, Pietro couldn't stand to watch this anymore. He shut his eyes, but there was no way for him to drown out the horrible sound, the thwack of the wooden nightsticks against flesh, and the snapping of Todd's fingers.
"Ah! Ow! Help, please! Pietro, help me!"
Pietro's eyes shot open. How could Todd know that he was watching? He didn't of course; he was just panicking. Oh God, please let it be over soon.
"Pietro! Help!"
"I'm here, Todd!" Pietro said softly. He was starting to cry again, and he couldn't stop. "Don't worry, I'll think of something."
The tall guard on the left brought down the nightstick with a final "THWACK!" to the side of Todd's head. The young teen's body fell to the ground, a crimson puddle spreading slowly across the floor.
"No," Pietro declared to the empty silence of the room. "No, you're Ok Todd, just get up. Get up, Ok?" He was shaking so badly now that it felt like Lance was letting loose an 8.3 on the Richter scale. "Get up Todd, get the fuck up!" Pietro yelled. He watched as one of the guards dragged Todd's lifeless body across the floor and out a side door. Then he fell to the ground in a dead faint.
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"2,326; 2,327; 2,328---"
Lance had spent a lot of time thinking about the patterns of the gaurds, and he came to a very important conclusion: It didn't matter worth shit. He could come up the equation that unlocked the meaning of life, the universe and everything (he did know that the answer was 42), and they were still going to kill him and all his friends.
So now Lance had a new goal. He was going to lie here on the ground and count all the way to ten thousand, even if it took him all day and all night. You see, when Lance was a little kid, way back when stuff was still happy and nothing was too hard, he would fall asleep every night trying to count to ten thousand. It was just some stupid thing he did, and he never made it very far, maybe to six hundred. He was always out before even getting close to one thousand, but today he was gonna count all the way to ten thousand. This way, he will have accomplished at least one goal before he died, and not even those piss ant guards could take that away.
"2,345; 2,346; 2,347---"
The door creaked. Lance didn't even look up; there was no need. The guards were different every time, and yet at the same time they were all the exact same guard, just some asshole who like to beat up mutants. He might *look* different each time, but he never really changed.
"You come to kill me?" he asked in a deadpan voice, his eyes never leaving the ceiling. "Well, come back tomorrow, I'm trying to count to ten thousand here, and I don't want you messing me up."
He heard no reply from the guards, only a loud 'Thunk!' and the slamming of the door.
Startled, Lance's eyes shot over to see what had made that noise. He sucked in a sharp breath. "Pietro!?"
At first, Lance was sure that Pietro was dead and the guards had decided to leave his body here as some unusual form of torture. After all, the younger boy's skin was more than just pale, it was actually *gray*, and his limp body lay in a pile by the door, unmoving. But after a moment, Pietro began to stir, his deep blue eyes opening and closing uncertainly.
"Lance?"
Still lacking the strength to stand, Lance crawled over to his friend. "Hey Pietro," he said softly. "Are you Ok?"
"I--- what?"
Lance tried again. "Pietro, do you know where Todd is? Is Todd coming back?"
Something in Pietro snapped. He began shaking and gasping for breath like a fish without water.
"Pietro? Pietro, what's wrong?" Lance cried.
He could not answer. Instead, Pietro opened his mouth and began to wail, a loud, almost inhuman sound, like a dog with its foot caught in a trap. He cried and sobbed and yelled and made about every noise he could, but he did not answer. He didn't have to. Lance knew. He knew that Fred and Todd were both dead, and that there was no way out. He was the leader and more than half his team was dead--- more than half his *friends*.
So Lance did the only thing he could do. Dizzy and sick with the effort, he lifted Pietro into his lap and held him, even rocked him back and forth like a baby. Even so, the thin track of silvery tears continued to spill from the boy's bloodshot eyes.
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Wow, this one is short too. Oh well, the next one will be pretty long, and I'll update more quickly next time. Reviews are always nice!
This story, it turns out, will be 12 chapters long. I've written all but one, so hopefully chapter updates will be often.
To everyone who is worried about Freddy, Todd, and Pietro- keep reading. You might have a right to be.
I once read somewhere that Pietro cries silver tears because of his mutation (something about the fluid making him more aerodynamic, I guess). If this is wrong, please tell me.
On with the show!
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The hallways in this place are full of ghosts.
Many mutants have walked their last mile down these cold walls, their hands chained, lead by guards that held them in contempt. They were prisoners headed toward execution, and their crime was being the possessor of an active X gene. Some chose to walk with their head high, going out in a moment of dignity; others had to be half dragged to their deaths. None of the guards ever called out "Dead man walking!" like in the old prison films, but perhaps that was only because in this place, mutants were not generally thought of as men.
Pietro and Todd were walking that last mile now.
Through a silvery curtain of tears, Pietro stared at the ground, watching the floor bob up and down as he marched the hall. A glance in Todd's direction confirmed that the frog boy's endless torrent of tears had finally ceased. Pietro was a little taken aback, but he guessed that no one could cry forever.
He turned his blue eyes to the surrounding hallway. Tall and metal, like the rest of the building, it was flanked on both sides by unmarked doorways. 'I wonder how they know where to go,' Pietro thought. He was beginning to feel a little dizzy.
The guard halted in front of a steel door, same as the rest, while Todd's guard continued to lead him onward. Pietro felt a sharp tug on his torn and dirty shirt, and saw that Todd, in his desperation, was hanging on for dear life. "Don't leave me!" he shrieked, just before the guard yanked him away to another door. Pietro could only watch sadly. None of this could be real, could it? They weren't *really* going to die, were they?
Pietro was led into a very small, steel room, like a miniature version of his cell. The only differences were the dim lights, a stark contrast to the bright lights of the halls, and the observation window on the far side of the room, which peered into a much larger cell. The speed demon watched through this window as a guard half lead, half dragged Todd into the big room.
"ON YOUR KNEES!"
Todd complied, perhaps only because his legs no longer possessed the ability to hold him up. To Pietro, it looked as though he were about to piss himself. The guard nodded to his left, and three others walked in. They stepped up to Todd, pulled out their nightsticks, and proceeded to hit him.
Pietro winced, but this wasn't so terrible. They'd all been through this almost twenty times before, and Todd frequently took the brunt of it.
"Smack!" The sticks continued to fall, connecting with every exposed inch of Todd's body. Todd, in a weak defense, had tucked his head under his hands, so they beat his hands, breaking all his fingers one by one. He screamed and screamed, pleading to no one for help. They kicked him in the stomach, causing him to cough up blood. "Ahhh! Help! Someone! Ow!"
Pietro was getting really worried again. They should have stopped by now. It never went on this long before. They were *really* hurting him. Suddenly, Pietro couldn't stand to watch this anymore. He shut his eyes, but there was no way for him to drown out the horrible sound, the thwack of the wooden nightsticks against flesh, and the snapping of Todd's fingers.
"Ah! Ow! Help, please! Pietro, help me!"
Pietro's eyes shot open. How could Todd know that he was watching? He didn't of course; he was just panicking. Oh God, please let it be over soon.
"Pietro! Help!"
"I'm here, Todd!" Pietro said softly. He was starting to cry again, and he couldn't stop. "Don't worry, I'll think of something."
The tall guard on the left brought down the nightstick with a final "THWACK!" to the side of Todd's head. The young teen's body fell to the ground, a crimson puddle spreading slowly across the floor.
"No," Pietro declared to the empty silence of the room. "No, you're Ok Todd, just get up. Get up, Ok?" He was shaking so badly now that it felt like Lance was letting loose an 8.3 on the Richter scale. "Get up Todd, get the fuck up!" Pietro yelled. He watched as one of the guards dragged Todd's lifeless body across the floor and out a side door. Then he fell to the ground in a dead faint.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"2,326; 2,327; 2,328---"
Lance had spent a lot of time thinking about the patterns of the gaurds, and he came to a very important conclusion: It didn't matter worth shit. He could come up the equation that unlocked the meaning of life, the universe and everything (he did know that the answer was 42), and they were still going to kill him and all his friends.
So now Lance had a new goal. He was going to lie here on the ground and count all the way to ten thousand, even if it took him all day and all night. You see, when Lance was a little kid, way back when stuff was still happy and nothing was too hard, he would fall asleep every night trying to count to ten thousand. It was just some stupid thing he did, and he never made it very far, maybe to six hundred. He was always out before even getting close to one thousand, but today he was gonna count all the way to ten thousand. This way, he will have accomplished at least one goal before he died, and not even those piss ant guards could take that away.
"2,345; 2,346; 2,347---"
The door creaked. Lance didn't even look up; there was no need. The guards were different every time, and yet at the same time they were all the exact same guard, just some asshole who like to beat up mutants. He might *look* different each time, but he never really changed.
"You come to kill me?" he asked in a deadpan voice, his eyes never leaving the ceiling. "Well, come back tomorrow, I'm trying to count to ten thousand here, and I don't want you messing me up."
He heard no reply from the guards, only a loud 'Thunk!' and the slamming of the door.
Startled, Lance's eyes shot over to see what had made that noise. He sucked in a sharp breath. "Pietro!?"
At first, Lance was sure that Pietro was dead and the guards had decided to leave his body here as some unusual form of torture. After all, the younger boy's skin was more than just pale, it was actually *gray*, and his limp body lay in a pile by the door, unmoving. But after a moment, Pietro began to stir, his deep blue eyes opening and closing uncertainly.
"Lance?"
Still lacking the strength to stand, Lance crawled over to his friend. "Hey Pietro," he said softly. "Are you Ok?"
"I--- what?"
Lance tried again. "Pietro, do you know where Todd is? Is Todd coming back?"
Something in Pietro snapped. He began shaking and gasping for breath like a fish without water.
"Pietro? Pietro, what's wrong?" Lance cried.
He could not answer. Instead, Pietro opened his mouth and began to wail, a loud, almost inhuman sound, like a dog with its foot caught in a trap. He cried and sobbed and yelled and made about every noise he could, but he did not answer. He didn't have to. Lance knew. He knew that Fred and Todd were both dead, and that there was no way out. He was the leader and more than half his team was dead--- more than half his *friends*.
So Lance did the only thing he could do. Dizzy and sick with the effort, he lifted Pietro into his lap and held him, even rocked him back and forth like a baby. Even so, the thin track of silvery tears continued to spill from the boy's bloodshot eyes.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Wow, this one is short too. Oh well, the next one will be pretty long, and I'll update more quickly next time. Reviews are always nice!
