Chapter 48

Consciousness slowly returned to Mystique, then her senses appeared to switch on and cause her to notice everything about her in a sudden wham. Her head shot up with a gasp, dilated amber eyes slowly shrinking as she gazed about the small room she was in. She was sat at a table on a hard wooden chair, her wrists bound behind her by cuffs. Opposite her, a man sat watching with a shrewd expression. Mystique checked her escape routes; other men guarded the only door. She slowly looked back to the man opposite her, angry eyes locking upon him, but her face remained impassive.

"Glad that you could join us, Ms Darkholme," he said with a slight smile, glancing down at the paperwork in front of him before he looked back at her. "You were caught breaking into the FDA, impersonating Bolivar Trask. Our assumption is, you were trying to gather information for the escaped terrorist, Erik Lensherr."

At his words, Mystique turned her head away from him.

"My question is simple, Raven. Where is Magneto?" Mystique continued to ignore the man, her eyes concentrating on a camera in the corner of the room, watching it with a challengingly stare.

"Raven, I asked you a question."

This time, she answered, though still refused to look at him. "I don't answer to my slave name," she said simply.

"Raven Darkholme, that's your real name, isn't it?" he asked rhetorically, his tone border lining a condescending manner. "Or has he convinced you that you don't have a family anymore?"

These words cut sharp with Raven, her head straightening as her eyes slid upon him with anger. Family? "My family tried to kill me you pathetic meat sack," she said, her glare burning into him.

Her interrogator appeared to take heed of her words, for his tone lost its patronising edge as he changes tactics. "Ok, then. Mystique. Where is he?"

And on cue, she shifted her form, the scales peeling up from her midriff and up towards her chest as she transformed into Magneto, clad in his previous prison attire. "In here," she responded, her voice dulcet with Magneto's tone, "with us."

Looking aggravated by her response, the man responded sternly. "I don't want to play games with you, I want answers."

A smirk was evident on Mystique's face as she swiftly changed to replicate the interrogator sat across for her. "You don't want to play games with me?" she asked, her tone demeaning. Her aggravation was intended for one thing.

The man opposite her stood up swiftly, his chair scraping back behind him noisily. "You are going to stop this," he ordered as he loomed over her. "Tell me, where is Magneto?"

Mystique leant forward in her seat, dangerous smile playing across her lips. "You wanna know where he is?" she asked, pausing for only a second before her head burst upwards to collide into the man's skull in a forceful head butt. The men behind her quickly moved forwards, but Mystique leapt into the air, kicking her chair into one of them. Rising over the table, she elegantly slipped her leg through her bound arms to bring her wrists in front of her.

The smile was more evident now than ever. Behind her, she could hear the second guard running towards her, but she spun round, aiming a swift kick across his head to send him hurtling to the floor. Her attention returned to her interrogator, hands planting down on his shoulders as she flipped over his torso to land behind him. Using her cuffs, she dragged him out of his seat and back against the wall with her. He struggled, but she was clearly overpowering him as she tightly held the metal binding of the handcuffs against his throat.

Ahead, the two men were running back towards her. She panted as she continued to try and drain the air out of the man, whispering into his ear chillingly. "Homo-sapiens.." The men flanked her, wrestling her hold off her captive. The joint efforts conquered Mystique as she was dragged aside before being slammed down onto the nearby table on her front, pinned there as backup was called.

"Get her back to the convoy," ordered the man she had attempted to strangle, who picked up his chair to sit down and begin rubbing his throat. "Damnit," he cursed, snatching his notes off the table and shutting the folder.

Assistance filed into the room, surrounding Mystique and forcefully dragging her to her feet. She struggled, but the many hands that held her made it so she would find it incredibly difficult to hit anyone, let alone escape. She was pulled out into the corridor, forced towards a set of double doors at the end. Men there opened the doors, nodding to the passing guards who then led Mystique up a ramp into the back of a large metal convoy. Having been unconscious on her journey here, Mystique stared at the vehicle in surprise, only managing to catch glimpses of closed prison doors before she found herself shoved into her own barred cell.

She grit her teeth, lashing out with her legs at the many men, but she was halted as the barred door slammed shut in front of her. With a sudden shock, she realised her hands were now cuffed to chains that hung from the ceiling. She growled as she struggled against the binds, kicking out at the locked door once more.

The men ignored her, conversing amongst themselves before some exited, and shut the ramp with a resounding clang. The sunlight left the convoy, leaving only the artificial lighting that shone from the white lights of the ceiling. She heard an engine start up, and felt herself swaying in the motions as the entire convoy began moving. "What the hell is this?" she growled as one of the two patrolling men came by her cell door.

"This is the rest of your life," said the man with a flicker of a smile, then turning his back on her and continuing to walk across to the other side of the convoy.

Exhaling an aggravated sigh through her nose, Mystique glared around the prison convoy when a sudden realisation hit her. She was surrounded by metal.

The humans hadn't been so smart after all.

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