Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men. Maybe I'll get them for Christmas.
Review please
They are coming for me again. Why can't they leave me alone? I haven't done anything to them, except when I accidentally set a guard on fire but I healed him after they put him out. Their footsteps echo through the hallway, two doctors and four heavily armed guards. Why are they coming again today? They were here this morning. Everyday is the same. They come in the morning to take me to the laboratory and check on me through out the day. It's been this way since I was taken from my parents fifteen years ago.
I need to escape, to run from here, as far as I can.
The bar door slides open and I crawl into the darkest corner. The four guards enter first, weapons drawn and pointing at me. The doctors enter next. The younger one, Dr. Alexander James, enters first carrying the handcuffs. He is the only one who is unafraid to come near me. Dr. James is an okay guy; he's not as horrible or crazy as the other doctors in the facility. I happen to be very lucky. NOT! The maddest scientist on the planet is assigned to me, Dr. Hans Hoffman. He'd experiment on his own mother if she was a mutant or wasn't dead.
Dr. James crosses the cell and offered me the handcuffs. "Please put the cuffs on Destiny."
"Why?" I ask.
"Its procedure. You know that," says Dr. Hoffman, bitterly.
"I am not stupid unlike someone in this room. Hint: he's a 'scientist' and it isn't James," I taunt. I know not the smartest thing to do to a mad scientist but I never said I was the smartest person. "Why are you taking me for a second time today?"
"That is none of your God damn business!" he yells. Maybe he'll die of a heart attack before they get me out of here.
Dr. James clears his throat, warning me to behave. Shrugging in his direction, I snap the cuffs on. Two guards put their guns away and haul me to my feet. The guards usher me out of the cell. I give Hoffman a dirty look as I pass him. The guards shove me up against the wall to allow the doctors past. The corridor is washed in white from floor to ceiling, wall to wall, unlike my cell. My cell is black after all the fires I started trying to escape. The hall was too bright, also unlike the dimness of my cell.
We turned down a narrow corridor. They were taking me somewhere new. Dr. James seemed a little nervous when Hoffman stopped in front of a normal- looking heavy metal door. Hoffman swiped a plastic card through a little device with numbered buttons. He punched in a four-digit code, 4-4-8-3. My birthday? Why? I didn't have time to contemplate it. The doors opened with a whoosh revealing steel counter tops covered with tubes and syringes filled with different coloured liquids. A metal chair with head, arm, body, and leg restrains stood in the middle of the lab. The guards strapped me into the chair. It was cold considering all I wore was a thin white cotton t-shirt, navy shorts and my feet were bare.
An old man came in. His hair was completely white; his eyes were a steel blue colour with bags underneath. His skin was pale and heavily wrinkled. He smiled at me, as if he knew me, with a crazed brilliance look in his eyes. He spoke to the doctors quietly and handed them a vial filled with a yellowish liquid. I was only able to catch the man's first name. Eric. I had an extremely bad feeling about all this.
After fifteen minutes of arguing and conversing, Mr. Eric what-ever-his- last-name left giving me another eerie smile. Dr. Hoffman began filling a syringe with the yellowish substance. Dr. James sends an apologizing half smile my way as he rubbed alcohol on the inside of my elbow. He inserted an I.V. into my arm.
"W-what are you st-stabbing me with n-now?" I stammer.
Hoffman just gives me a sickening smile and injects the liquid into me. I can feel the stuff flow through my veins and arteries. It burns like lava through out my body. Try as I might, I cannot harness my screams of pain. Glass tubes and colour-liquid vials shatter. Dr. Hoffman doesn't flinch. He just stands there and looks at me with his eyes full of triumph.
The bastard!
Dr. James's eyes are full of concern and panic and pity for me. His hands fly to cover his ears, trying in vain to block out my screams. Somehow he finds the strength to lower his hands. He encircles his hands around my right and allows me to squeeze his fingers. I realize I am squeezing too hard when he swears and bones can be heard crunching, but he does not cry out in pain.
Perhaps I was wrong to think he was evil like Hoffman.
All of a sudden I can see Dr. James as a teenager sitting in a biology class. They were studying Darwin's Theory. Then some kids start throwing wads of paper and writing utensils at him. They chant something but I can make it out, there's too much pain. The vision shifts. He's in an athletics class and a bunch of jocks surround him. 'Hey James. Use your powers for us. Make our English teacher forget about the test today.' 'No. I won't cheat.' Then they beat him until he's black and blue and bleeding. His parents blame him for being a mutant. Dr. James pulls his fingers away and the vision ends.
Half an hour later the pain subsides. Sweat drenches my long black hair and white t-shirt. Dr. James pulls out a handkerchief and wipes my forehead. Hoffman was busy stacking paper in a wastebasket.
"Move away from her, Alexander," Hoffman orders. Dr. James obeys reluctantly. "Alright, Destiny lets put the stuff to the test. Set the paper on fire."
"Why?" I whisper. "I was told never to use my power ever again."
"Just to it, Destiny," Dr. James says. He's still visibly shaken from earlier and in pain from me crushing at least two fingers. I think he realizes how mad Hoffman is.
Obeying, I look at the papers and a fire quickly engulfs the wastebasket. Hoffman swears up a storm. I don't believe this is the result he was wanting. Dr. James knocks on the door and the guards enter. I clamp my hands on to the chair preparing myself for what I'm about to do.
Images flood my mind. Images of previous prisoners-mutants-that sat in this very chair and were tortured. Some so gruesome I actually vomit. Blood and pain and death rush into my mind and body. I feel unclean. A guard pries my hands oft the arm rests breaking the vision.
My hand shoots out and grabs his gun. In four loud BANG!'s the guards lay dead in pools of blood. I turn and point the gun at Hoffman. "Tell me what the hell you injected me with or I swear to the devil himself I'll blow your brains out," I scream at him level the gun in-between his eyes.
He chuckles like the madman he is. "I don't know what it was. Our benefactor gave it to me. He especially requested that you be the first it is tested on."
"What's his name?" I yell. Hoffman just continues laughing. He's dead before his knees touch the floor. I face Dr. James. "Do you know?"
"His name is Eric Lehnsherr. Please don't kill me!" he begs so scared he might wet himself.
I can't shoot him. So I pull him in front of me. His five-nine body easily shields my five-five petite body. I grab a new gun and position it at his right temple. "I won't shoot you, Dr. James," I whisper in his ear. He visibly relaxes. "You're the only one who can get me out of here. Now how do we do that?"
"May I suggest something that doesn't involve shooting anyone else?"
Review please
They are coming for me again. Why can't they leave me alone? I haven't done anything to them, except when I accidentally set a guard on fire but I healed him after they put him out. Their footsteps echo through the hallway, two doctors and four heavily armed guards. Why are they coming again today? They were here this morning. Everyday is the same. They come in the morning to take me to the laboratory and check on me through out the day. It's been this way since I was taken from my parents fifteen years ago.
I need to escape, to run from here, as far as I can.
The bar door slides open and I crawl into the darkest corner. The four guards enter first, weapons drawn and pointing at me. The doctors enter next. The younger one, Dr. Alexander James, enters first carrying the handcuffs. He is the only one who is unafraid to come near me. Dr. James is an okay guy; he's not as horrible or crazy as the other doctors in the facility. I happen to be very lucky. NOT! The maddest scientist on the planet is assigned to me, Dr. Hans Hoffman. He'd experiment on his own mother if she was a mutant or wasn't dead.
Dr. James crosses the cell and offered me the handcuffs. "Please put the cuffs on Destiny."
"Why?" I ask.
"Its procedure. You know that," says Dr. Hoffman, bitterly.
"I am not stupid unlike someone in this room. Hint: he's a 'scientist' and it isn't James," I taunt. I know not the smartest thing to do to a mad scientist but I never said I was the smartest person. "Why are you taking me for a second time today?"
"That is none of your God damn business!" he yells. Maybe he'll die of a heart attack before they get me out of here.
Dr. James clears his throat, warning me to behave. Shrugging in his direction, I snap the cuffs on. Two guards put their guns away and haul me to my feet. The guards usher me out of the cell. I give Hoffman a dirty look as I pass him. The guards shove me up against the wall to allow the doctors past. The corridor is washed in white from floor to ceiling, wall to wall, unlike my cell. My cell is black after all the fires I started trying to escape. The hall was too bright, also unlike the dimness of my cell.
We turned down a narrow corridor. They were taking me somewhere new. Dr. James seemed a little nervous when Hoffman stopped in front of a normal- looking heavy metal door. Hoffman swiped a plastic card through a little device with numbered buttons. He punched in a four-digit code, 4-4-8-3. My birthday? Why? I didn't have time to contemplate it. The doors opened with a whoosh revealing steel counter tops covered with tubes and syringes filled with different coloured liquids. A metal chair with head, arm, body, and leg restrains stood in the middle of the lab. The guards strapped me into the chair. It was cold considering all I wore was a thin white cotton t-shirt, navy shorts and my feet were bare.
An old man came in. His hair was completely white; his eyes were a steel blue colour with bags underneath. His skin was pale and heavily wrinkled. He smiled at me, as if he knew me, with a crazed brilliance look in his eyes. He spoke to the doctors quietly and handed them a vial filled with a yellowish liquid. I was only able to catch the man's first name. Eric. I had an extremely bad feeling about all this.
After fifteen minutes of arguing and conversing, Mr. Eric what-ever-his- last-name left giving me another eerie smile. Dr. Hoffman began filling a syringe with the yellowish substance. Dr. James sends an apologizing half smile my way as he rubbed alcohol on the inside of my elbow. He inserted an I.V. into my arm.
"W-what are you st-stabbing me with n-now?" I stammer.
Hoffman just gives me a sickening smile and injects the liquid into me. I can feel the stuff flow through my veins and arteries. It burns like lava through out my body. Try as I might, I cannot harness my screams of pain. Glass tubes and colour-liquid vials shatter. Dr. Hoffman doesn't flinch. He just stands there and looks at me with his eyes full of triumph.
The bastard!
Dr. James's eyes are full of concern and panic and pity for me. His hands fly to cover his ears, trying in vain to block out my screams. Somehow he finds the strength to lower his hands. He encircles his hands around my right and allows me to squeeze his fingers. I realize I am squeezing too hard when he swears and bones can be heard crunching, but he does not cry out in pain.
Perhaps I was wrong to think he was evil like Hoffman.
All of a sudden I can see Dr. James as a teenager sitting in a biology class. They were studying Darwin's Theory. Then some kids start throwing wads of paper and writing utensils at him. They chant something but I can make it out, there's too much pain. The vision shifts. He's in an athletics class and a bunch of jocks surround him. 'Hey James. Use your powers for us. Make our English teacher forget about the test today.' 'No. I won't cheat.' Then they beat him until he's black and blue and bleeding. His parents blame him for being a mutant. Dr. James pulls his fingers away and the vision ends.
Half an hour later the pain subsides. Sweat drenches my long black hair and white t-shirt. Dr. James pulls out a handkerchief and wipes my forehead. Hoffman was busy stacking paper in a wastebasket.
"Move away from her, Alexander," Hoffman orders. Dr. James obeys reluctantly. "Alright, Destiny lets put the stuff to the test. Set the paper on fire."
"Why?" I whisper. "I was told never to use my power ever again."
"Just to it, Destiny," Dr. James says. He's still visibly shaken from earlier and in pain from me crushing at least two fingers. I think he realizes how mad Hoffman is.
Obeying, I look at the papers and a fire quickly engulfs the wastebasket. Hoffman swears up a storm. I don't believe this is the result he was wanting. Dr. James knocks on the door and the guards enter. I clamp my hands on to the chair preparing myself for what I'm about to do.
Images flood my mind. Images of previous prisoners-mutants-that sat in this very chair and were tortured. Some so gruesome I actually vomit. Blood and pain and death rush into my mind and body. I feel unclean. A guard pries my hands oft the arm rests breaking the vision.
My hand shoots out and grabs his gun. In four loud BANG!'s the guards lay dead in pools of blood. I turn and point the gun at Hoffman. "Tell me what the hell you injected me with or I swear to the devil himself I'll blow your brains out," I scream at him level the gun in-between his eyes.
He chuckles like the madman he is. "I don't know what it was. Our benefactor gave it to me. He especially requested that you be the first it is tested on."
"What's his name?" I yell. Hoffman just continues laughing. He's dead before his knees touch the floor. I face Dr. James. "Do you know?"
"His name is Eric Lehnsherr. Please don't kill me!" he begs so scared he might wet himself.
I can't shoot him. So I pull him in front of me. His five-nine body easily shields my five-five petite body. I grab a new gun and position it at his right temple. "I won't shoot you, Dr. James," I whisper in his ear. He visibly relaxes. "You're the only one who can get me out of here. Now how do we do that?"
"May I suggest something that doesn't involve shooting anyone else?"