John sat down on the bed and tried to think about what Rush had just told
him. He had purposely been taken here, to what he assumed was some secret
jail for mutants. He doubted that they—whoever 'they' were—would let him
call Magneto and Mystique for help.
He got up from the bed and looked at himself in the mirror.
"Jesus," he muttered at his reflection. His lip was swollen, there was a cut on his cheek and he could make out the faint ring of bruising around his eye. Just by moving around, he knew without looking that the damage wasn't restricted to his face.
"Got us a new one, eh, Rush?" it was a female voice that rang out this time, clear through the space.
"He's new, too new. Clueless." Rush said from his bed.
"Come closer to the glass, let me get a good look at you," she called out.
John stepped forward, and could now see her as well as she could see him.
She had dark hair and eyes, but very pale skin. Similar to Rush, she was wearing a dark green tank top and a pair of dark pants. She looked a touch older than Rush, maybe 25, and looked curiously at John.
"That makes about four new ones this year. They're getting faster."
"Hey, what are they planning to do to us?" John asked, his tension building.
"Well, that depends."
"On what?"
"On the mutation, how useful you can become. They might not do anything, but that's never happened in as long as I've been here." She said, her dark eyes shining with some bizarre light.
"And how long is that?"
"It's been years, but exact numbers don't matter. Don't worry too much about it though, the object here isn't to kill us—that comes later, after the mission is over and they won't need us anymore. I suggest that you get some rest, you have a busy day ahead of you. Meeting the rest of us, getting acquainted with the bosses, and your evaluation."
The young woman, whoever she was, was starting to give John the creeps. She spoke with an almost sing-song rhythm to her words, her eyes staring at him without blinking; it may have been at that moment that John realized that being here so long might have driven her a little nuts.
Maybe Rush too, since he had forgotten his own name and all.
Still, he pressed on, it was smart to find out as much as he could about the situation he had gotten into.
"What's going to happen to us?"
"Us? Nothing. You, on the other hand, have something to look forward to tomorrow at your evaluation."
"What happens at evaluation?"
"I can't say for sure, it's been so long since I had mine; but I'm willing to bet it was different than yours is going to be. I remember only a few things: a door, a drill, a table...that's about it. They brought me back to my room and I've had these ever since."
She held out her hands to reveal her wrists to him, but all John could see were circular apertures in her skin, about the size of a quarter.
He shook his head, "Listen, this has been a really weird day for me, ok? One minute I'm on a date, the next I'm in jail. Just tell me what they want from me!" He demanded, his patience running out.
"Well, since you asked so nice," she said, sarcasm invading her voice, "That bulge in your neck isn't going to just heal and go away. It's insurance to protect the guys who caught us. You try to attack them and you can say hello to your very first aneurism. Their mission is to force us to help them depose mutant power in America, and as for your evaluation tomorrow...you'll be a new man, that I can guarantee."
With that statement, the girl's eyes flickered a little, losing some of their spitfire personality.
The lights in the hall and in every cell dimmed, then went out.
"Welcome to Weapon X." the girl hissed at him from the dark.
John shuddered.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
"Colonel Wraith, sir."
"Yes, Sergeant Vega?" "The med divisions are standing by for your orders regarding the newest acquisition, sir. He'd never survive a cybernetic graft, but several other options are available."
"The fire-mutant, yes. Put one of our best in ICU. Ramirez was a good soldier. Cybernetics may not be right for his mutation category, but he'll still get an upgrade, whether he wants it or not. Tell the med-unit to prep the OR."
"Yes, sir."
*^*^*^*^*^*
John had laid down on the bed, trying to make sense of what Rush and the girl across the cell had told him. Nothing made much sense, especially the evaluation tomorrow.
When he came back to the cell, would he have holes in his wrists too?
The lights had come back on in the hall and the cells, John had not gone to sleep. He had stayed up all night, thinking up ways to get out. He hadn't had much luck, as he didn't know what he was up against or where he was.
He saw shadows moving on the floor and could hear some footsteps outside his cell. John stood up and saw several soldiers approach his cell.
"Hey, I don't know what-AGGHHH!!!"
John felt a stinging, burning pain rip through his head, so powerful he fell to his knees.
"Get him," said one of the soldiers, "Take him to the OR."
John put up a half-hearted struggle against the five burly soldiers that grabbed him and hauled him down the hall, but he was weakened from his wounds. John saw that Rush and the girl, and several other mutants in their own cells were watching as he was dragged down the hall.
Cell after cell, all of them were identical- the occupant inside dressed in the same dark green tank top and brown pants, looking at him with the same sad eyes. They had no hope, and John was beginning to feel the same way.
The soldiers forced John down the hall and into a room. The stinging smell of antiseptics clung to the room. Doctors dressed in their lab coats and latex gloves waited for the soldiers to force John onto the table.
"Hold him still," said the doctor closest to John's head.
He felt strong arms force his shoulders into the metal surface. John looked to his right and saw the same doctor fill a syringe with an amber liquid, and walk towards him.
"No!"
He got up from the bed and looked at himself in the mirror.
"Jesus," he muttered at his reflection. His lip was swollen, there was a cut on his cheek and he could make out the faint ring of bruising around his eye. Just by moving around, he knew without looking that the damage wasn't restricted to his face.
"Got us a new one, eh, Rush?" it was a female voice that rang out this time, clear through the space.
"He's new, too new. Clueless." Rush said from his bed.
"Come closer to the glass, let me get a good look at you," she called out.
John stepped forward, and could now see her as well as she could see him.
She had dark hair and eyes, but very pale skin. Similar to Rush, she was wearing a dark green tank top and a pair of dark pants. She looked a touch older than Rush, maybe 25, and looked curiously at John.
"That makes about four new ones this year. They're getting faster."
"Hey, what are they planning to do to us?" John asked, his tension building.
"Well, that depends."
"On what?"
"On the mutation, how useful you can become. They might not do anything, but that's never happened in as long as I've been here." She said, her dark eyes shining with some bizarre light.
"And how long is that?"
"It's been years, but exact numbers don't matter. Don't worry too much about it though, the object here isn't to kill us—that comes later, after the mission is over and they won't need us anymore. I suggest that you get some rest, you have a busy day ahead of you. Meeting the rest of us, getting acquainted with the bosses, and your evaluation."
The young woman, whoever she was, was starting to give John the creeps. She spoke with an almost sing-song rhythm to her words, her eyes staring at him without blinking; it may have been at that moment that John realized that being here so long might have driven her a little nuts.
Maybe Rush too, since he had forgotten his own name and all.
Still, he pressed on, it was smart to find out as much as he could about the situation he had gotten into.
"What's going to happen to us?"
"Us? Nothing. You, on the other hand, have something to look forward to tomorrow at your evaluation."
"What happens at evaluation?"
"I can't say for sure, it's been so long since I had mine; but I'm willing to bet it was different than yours is going to be. I remember only a few things: a door, a drill, a table...that's about it. They brought me back to my room and I've had these ever since."
She held out her hands to reveal her wrists to him, but all John could see were circular apertures in her skin, about the size of a quarter.
He shook his head, "Listen, this has been a really weird day for me, ok? One minute I'm on a date, the next I'm in jail. Just tell me what they want from me!" He demanded, his patience running out.
"Well, since you asked so nice," she said, sarcasm invading her voice, "That bulge in your neck isn't going to just heal and go away. It's insurance to protect the guys who caught us. You try to attack them and you can say hello to your very first aneurism. Their mission is to force us to help them depose mutant power in America, and as for your evaluation tomorrow...you'll be a new man, that I can guarantee."
With that statement, the girl's eyes flickered a little, losing some of their spitfire personality.
The lights in the hall and in every cell dimmed, then went out.
"Welcome to Weapon X." the girl hissed at him from the dark.
John shuddered.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
"Colonel Wraith, sir."
"Yes, Sergeant Vega?" "The med divisions are standing by for your orders regarding the newest acquisition, sir. He'd never survive a cybernetic graft, but several other options are available."
"The fire-mutant, yes. Put one of our best in ICU. Ramirez was a good soldier. Cybernetics may not be right for his mutation category, but he'll still get an upgrade, whether he wants it or not. Tell the med-unit to prep the OR."
"Yes, sir."
*^*^*^*^*^*
John had laid down on the bed, trying to make sense of what Rush and the girl across the cell had told him. Nothing made much sense, especially the evaluation tomorrow.
When he came back to the cell, would he have holes in his wrists too?
The lights had come back on in the hall and the cells, John had not gone to sleep. He had stayed up all night, thinking up ways to get out. He hadn't had much luck, as he didn't know what he was up against or where he was.
He saw shadows moving on the floor and could hear some footsteps outside his cell. John stood up and saw several soldiers approach his cell.
"Hey, I don't know what-AGGHHH!!!"
John felt a stinging, burning pain rip through his head, so powerful he fell to his knees.
"Get him," said one of the soldiers, "Take him to the OR."
John put up a half-hearted struggle against the five burly soldiers that grabbed him and hauled him down the hall, but he was weakened from his wounds. John saw that Rush and the girl, and several other mutants in their own cells were watching as he was dragged down the hall.
Cell after cell, all of them were identical- the occupant inside dressed in the same dark green tank top and brown pants, looking at him with the same sad eyes. They had no hope, and John was beginning to feel the same way.
The soldiers forced John down the hall and into a room. The stinging smell of antiseptics clung to the room. Doctors dressed in their lab coats and latex gloves waited for the soldiers to force John onto the table.
"Hold him still," said the doctor closest to John's head.
He felt strong arms force his shoulders into the metal surface. John looked to his right and saw the same doctor fill a syringe with an amber liquid, and walk towards him.
"No!"