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4 Years apart
Helen sighed as she wiped the wet dishes dry, it had been four years since her eldest child was taken by that thing. Four years since Helen made the biggest mistake of her life by slapping her daughter for protecting her brother. She could still hear Violet's screams as that thing crushed her. It was the worst day of her life, and she could never forgive herself for it.
"Mom?" Dash asked coming up from behind her, it was then that she realized that she was crying.
"Oh hey honey," she said trying to wipe her tears away from her eyes. Dash gave her a hug, he missed Violet too. They all missed Violet, but life goes on, it has to for a family of supers.
"Hey honey me and Jack-jack are back!" Bob yelled from the front door.
"Hey Bob how was the trip?" Helen asked trying to cover her tears, Bob saw his wife's distress and enveloped her into a hug.
"Honey are you ok?" he asked her.
"Oh Bob! I miss her, I miss her so much!" she cried into her husband's shoulder.
"I know honey, I miss her too," Bob said trying to comfort his wife, they were all getting better but there were moments when it hit hard that she was missing.
"I'm a horrible mother! I failed my only daughter!" she cried.
"No honey no, you're a great mom, it's my fault I should have stayed with her, I could see she was hurt," Bob replied feeling tears come to his own eyes.
"She was upset because I slapped her! Because I didn't believe her! And now she's dead!" Helen wailed hitting Bob's shoulders in frustration.
"Stop it!" cried Dash tears streaming down his face. "She's not dead! She's not!" he screamed. He tried to run out of the room but his father managed to grab a hold on him, preventing him from leaving.
"Dash..." Bob started keeping a firm grip on the boy.
"No! Violet isn't dead! She's strong! She's the strongest girl I know!" he yelled trying to tear his arm from his father's grip. Jack-jack watched the scene with sadness. For him it was a regretful sadness, regretful that he had had a sister that he couldn't remember.
"Dashy!" he called getting the trios attention. "What was our sister like?" he asked with a small amount of hope in his eyes, he knew what she looked like of course having seen her picture, but no one had really spoken about her as a person, just that she was a relative.
Violet walked down the dark halls she had come so accustom to, for four years this prison had been her home. For four long years she had found out many things about herself, about her birth, about her heritage......about her abandonment and adoption. She was no longer Violet Parr, that girl had died on the operation table years ago, now she was a heartless machine, a being of no feelings, no rage, no sadness, no regret, no fear, no love. She had kept her first name, Violet seeing as it was the colour of her eyes, the only thing unique about her. You could look all over the world but you'll never find anyone else with eyes like hers. She came to a T junction in the halls, taking the left corridor she eventually came to the darkly lit laboratory.
"Violet," a seemingly friendly voice greeted. Violet made no movement at the sudden surprising voice, having already known that he was going to be here, she returned the greeting.
"Syndrome," as she said this the man himself came out of the shadows, no longer did his hair stand up like wild flames licking at the fire place, instead it was cut short and combed back into a business like professional look. He smiled at her, and hesitantly Violet smiled back.
Over the four years the two had begrudgingly become friends, but when your only contact with people was between the devil himself and the man you once thought was the devil, you learn the hard way that beggars can't be choosers. But now the two had become the best of friends, being closer to each other than to anyone else that they had fraternised with before. The basis of their friendship started when they both realized they shared a mutual hate for the man that had brought them here, brought them here to this secrete hell. Neither of them had seen the outside of this base during the duration of their capture, they weren't even sure how long it had been since they were taken. There were no clocks and the lights never seemed to turn off except for the personal quarters lights, if you were not co-operative you worked until collapsed or you were beaten until you worked long enough to collapse, but if you were co-operative then you were free to roam and do whatever you liked providing that you still did what you were ordered to do when ordered.
"So what have you got to do today?" Syndrome asked taking a seat on one of the empty chairs located around the science lab.
"You mean other then staring at the wall for hours? Nothing I've finished my training regiment for now, it's now a matter of waiting to be called back to the training chamber," Violet answered taking a seat opposite the ex-super villain.
"You mean torture chamber," Syndrome muttered under his breath as he looked to his gloved hand knowing that an old scar ran down the length of his arm starting at his wrist. He looked up at Violet, who wore a neutral face at his comment; he couldn't help but remember the amount of scars that littered her small frame. Looking at her face he was instantly drawn to the scar that started from her hairline and ended at the tip of her jaw. He could still remember patching that particular gruesome wound up like it was yesterday. He remembered throwing up at the sight of the girls face; he remembered the smack he got when he protested against the devil's orders at not using any anaesthetics to help with her pain. He remembered her soulless eyes as he tried his best to patch her up without leaving too much scaring, and he remembered apologising over and over again to her as he forced himself not to cry, a battle he lost a few too many times.
Violet caught his stare but had no idea as to what he was looking at; there were no mirrors down in Hell.
