Post by Blue on May 10, 2009 7:33:24 GMT -5
it remains unfinished, and shall stay that way.
no boy's POV.
deal.
----------
“Come on!” I groaned, it had been three weeks, three weeks since they had locked me in here. Don’t even bother asking me where here was. Somewhere underground, deep underground.
Not like a basement either, more like a grave. It was small, and dark, and cramped, it reeked of chemicals and moss. Lucky me, all the things I hated.
But seriously, I had been here for at least three weeks, the days all seemed to blend together when you couldn’t see the sun rising and falling.
The whole time I was here though, the people who had brought me here hadn’t said a word except ‘What can you do? What is your power?’
I wished they could just dissect me and get it over with.
Pain flashed through my hand, it felt like it was being crushed under some unseen force. Something slashed at my back cruelly, as I tried my hardest not to let out the scream building inside my throat. It was what they wanted; they wanted me in as much pain as possible. I looked up from the tiled marble floor I had been staring at. Who wanted to cause me such pain? I gasped as I saw them, the men and women standing above me in fancy suits, guns at their hips. They had no face.
‘Breath! Breath dammit! Breath!’ I gasped for breath, waiting for the pain of the vision to fade. I hated this power, I truly did. The power of premonition. It was why I was here; it was the cause of all of this. If only I was normal. As I regained my ability to stand up straight and to breathe properly, I shouted out hearing the loud echo off the walls of my tiny containment cell.
“WHY? Why are you doing this? If you want me for something just do it already and get it over with!”
SLAM
The metal door, which was usually bolted from the outside so I couldn’t escape, slammed open into the concrete wall.
One of the men in white, the one who usually brought me food, stood in the doorway. When he spoke it was loud and commanding. It scared me a bit. “You. With me. Now.”
Hesitantly, I took a few steps forward, the man obviously didn’t approve of my slow speed. He grabbed my wrist roughly, yanking me through the doorway.
I followed him wordlessly, not wanting to make him angry with me. It felt like we walked for hours, pa$$ing endless amounts of computers and strange machines. I wondered if this was it. Were they finally going to kill me?
The room that I was finally led into was much smaller than my regular room; it was maybe eight by ten. In the tiny room, there was a mirror on one wall, a table on the same side of the room as the mirror. Across the room, which wasn’t very far maybe six feet away or so, there was a lone chair.
It was different from your everyday sofa chair though. This seat was wooden, like a stool, it had an open back, but arms on either side of it. Even the arms were different from usual; they were beaten up and scratched at, and each arm adorned three restraints, resembling crudely attached belts.
I froze; this was not what I had expected. No, they were going to do much worse things to me then just dissect me. I could feel it. I just had this feeling deep in my stomach; they were going to hurt me. My eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and I tried to take a step back, out of the room, I had to run. But the man holding my wrist was stronger than me by a long shot. He squeezed my wrist mercilessly, causing me to whimper in a mix of pain and discomfort. The man dragged me forwards, towards the chair.
“Strip down, now.” He ordered. When I hesitated, he repeated himself. “Strip down. To your undergarments. Now. Or I’ll do it for you. We don’t need your pretty cloths getting dirty do we?” He let go of my wrist as the door slammed behind me. I was trapped.
Well, I didn’t want to undress, but more so I didn’t want him to do it for me even more. So I did as I was told, slipping off my pink tee shirt first. Then, I slid off my capris pants, leaving me in my light purple bra and underwear.
The man grabbed me again, forcing me into the weird chair. In a matter of seconds the straps around my left arm were secured to a point where I felt my fingers start to tingle. Next was my right arm; the straps fastened around my wrists, my elbows, and right in between.
“Heh, you guys really don’t want me moving do you?”
SLAP. His hand collided heavily with my cheek, silencing me instantly.
“Shut up. You won’t speak unless spoken to, got it?” He snarled, and I nodded.
After that man finished buckling me in, and checking his work once more just to be sure I couldn’t move, he left out that same door we entered.
Was I ever going to walk out that door? I wasn’t sure. All I could tell for sure was that I would have to be strong. I was going to have to stop being the 14 year old me, and start being older, more durable, less childish.
---
Two hours later, I could no longer move six of my fingers, they were broken. I could feel my feet a blaze with pain, they had been whipped and slapped and slashed. My back, oh God, my back. They had doused me in icy water before they whipped my back. It soaked me through, leaving me shivering and in pain as I tried to think through it.
There was a new man he spoke to me, while there were other men who hurt me, men in white coats, this one was in a dark suit, he loomed over me. He spoke kindly in a southern accent. “Hey there, Little Lady. You know I don’t want to hurt you right? If you tell me what I want to know, I can make them start hurting you. You want that don’t you?”
I nodded, that was all I wanted at this point for the torture to stop, be it death or otherwise.
That sweet southern voice suddenly turned harsh and violent. I jumped, feeling ashamed afterwards. This had happened several times before; I shouldn’t have relaxed in the slightest bit. ‘Stupid!’
“Then tell me you stupid little b!tch, ARE THERE MORE OF YOU? “
“N-n-no!” I choked out, tears forming in my eyes. I knew what was next, it came in cycles. First the whipped at my back, then they snapped my fingers, and finally they slashed at me feet. This time, it should have been more abuse to my back, it should have.
But instead of picking up the whip like I expected, the man in the white lab jacket chose a dagger, he walked over to me, grinning. He was enjoying this. He raised his arm, allowing fear to flood me, before digging it into the top part of my arm.
I screamed, unable to hold it in, as the 3 inch piece of jagged metal ripped its way through my muscles and nerves, my will that had kept me silent so far was fading, I could feel it.
“Where are they you piece of sh!t?!? What can they do? What are they planning? When is the attack??”
The man holding the blade brought it down slowly, dragging it through my arm. I shrieked. The pain was unbearable; it rivaled anything and everything they had done to me before.
In between screams and bursts of pain, I cried out, “There is no attack!!”
‘sh!t.’
The man in the suit nodded to the man in white, who grinned even wider. He pulled the blade through my arm again, a little bit harder and more quickly before yanking it out, leaving me bleeding. I screamed again.
“So there are more then.” He said, smiling.
“No! I mean—I don’t-“ I desperately fought to cover it up, to save those I had just condemned. But it was in vain, they had what they needed.
The man in the suit made like he was tipping an invisible hat. “Why thank you little Lady, you can go now, we’re done here.”
As if on cue, the man in the white coat walked over to me, raised his knife again, and brought it down swiftly to my neck. I could feel it slice through my major veins(I could see my blood splurt and gush out onto the man’s white coat all I could think was that it served him right, I’d like to see him get that stain out), then my windpipe (oh God, I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.) and then through the other side of my neck. This was it; I was finally going to die. Finally.
Just as I was about to slip into unconsciousness, the concrete room before me faded, and I entered a vision.
Death. Death and blood. As far as the eye could see. It was a battle field. It was a war between two different groups, yet exactly the same. Gifteds versus normals. From the look of it, only one would survive. But who?
And it was all, my fault.
And her world faded to black.
---
“At the same time as the young psychic was being… persuaded, yes, that was a good word, another young freak was being… persuaded too.
“Said boy, after hours of intense questioning, finally gave up the same information as the girl. Both reported there to be more like themselves. Many, many more freaks. They did, however, refuse to release the exact whereabouts.” The man in the dark suit reported to his boss. “So we made sure to dispatch the threats.
His boss nodded. “Good work. Our primary goal, until further stated, is to capture and dispatch all of these abominations swiftly. Inform the press, the public must be made aware of the monsters living among them.” The man nodded, leaving his boss alone in the room.
The boss watched his man leave, smirking.
This is war.
----------
oh, and italics later. in a bit of a rush.
no boy's POV.
deal.
----------
“Come on!” I groaned, it had been three weeks, three weeks since they had locked me in here. Don’t even bother asking me where here was. Somewhere underground, deep underground.
Not like a basement either, more like a grave. It was small, and dark, and cramped, it reeked of chemicals and moss. Lucky me, all the things I hated.
But seriously, I had been here for at least three weeks, the days all seemed to blend together when you couldn’t see the sun rising and falling.
The whole time I was here though, the people who had brought me here hadn’t said a word except ‘What can you do? What is your power?’
I wished they could just dissect me and get it over with.
Pain flashed through my hand, it felt like it was being crushed under some unseen force. Something slashed at my back cruelly, as I tried my hardest not to let out the scream building inside my throat. It was what they wanted; they wanted me in as much pain as possible. I looked up from the tiled marble floor I had been staring at. Who wanted to cause me such pain? I gasped as I saw them, the men and women standing above me in fancy suits, guns at their hips. They had no face.
‘Breath! Breath dammit! Breath!’ I gasped for breath, waiting for the pain of the vision to fade. I hated this power, I truly did. The power of premonition. It was why I was here; it was the cause of all of this. If only I was normal. As I regained my ability to stand up straight and to breathe properly, I shouted out hearing the loud echo off the walls of my tiny containment cell.
“WHY? Why are you doing this? If you want me for something just do it already and get it over with!”
SLAM
The metal door, which was usually bolted from the outside so I couldn’t escape, slammed open into the concrete wall.
One of the men in white, the one who usually brought me food, stood in the doorway. When he spoke it was loud and commanding. It scared me a bit. “You. With me. Now.”
Hesitantly, I took a few steps forward, the man obviously didn’t approve of my slow speed. He grabbed my wrist roughly, yanking me through the doorway.
I followed him wordlessly, not wanting to make him angry with me. It felt like we walked for hours, pa$$ing endless amounts of computers and strange machines. I wondered if this was it. Were they finally going to kill me?
The room that I was finally led into was much smaller than my regular room; it was maybe eight by ten. In the tiny room, there was a mirror on one wall, a table on the same side of the room as the mirror. Across the room, which wasn’t very far maybe six feet away or so, there was a lone chair.
It was different from your everyday sofa chair though. This seat was wooden, like a stool, it had an open back, but arms on either side of it. Even the arms were different from usual; they were beaten up and scratched at, and each arm adorned three restraints, resembling crudely attached belts.
I froze; this was not what I had expected. No, they were going to do much worse things to me then just dissect me. I could feel it. I just had this feeling deep in my stomach; they were going to hurt me. My eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and I tried to take a step back, out of the room, I had to run. But the man holding my wrist was stronger than me by a long shot. He squeezed my wrist mercilessly, causing me to whimper in a mix of pain and discomfort. The man dragged me forwards, towards the chair.
“Strip down, now.” He ordered. When I hesitated, he repeated himself. “Strip down. To your undergarments. Now. Or I’ll do it for you. We don’t need your pretty cloths getting dirty do we?” He let go of my wrist as the door slammed behind me. I was trapped.
Well, I didn’t want to undress, but more so I didn’t want him to do it for me even more. So I did as I was told, slipping off my pink tee shirt first. Then, I slid off my capris pants, leaving me in my light purple bra and underwear.
The man grabbed me again, forcing me into the weird chair. In a matter of seconds the straps around my left arm were secured to a point where I felt my fingers start to tingle. Next was my right arm; the straps fastened around my wrists, my elbows, and right in between.
“Heh, you guys really don’t want me moving do you?”
SLAP. His hand collided heavily with my cheek, silencing me instantly.
“Shut up. You won’t speak unless spoken to, got it?” He snarled, and I nodded.
After that man finished buckling me in, and checking his work once more just to be sure I couldn’t move, he left out that same door we entered.
Was I ever going to walk out that door? I wasn’t sure. All I could tell for sure was that I would have to be strong. I was going to have to stop being the 14 year old me, and start being older, more durable, less childish.
---
Two hours later, I could no longer move six of my fingers, they were broken. I could feel my feet a blaze with pain, they had been whipped and slapped and slashed. My back, oh God, my back. They had doused me in icy water before they whipped my back. It soaked me through, leaving me shivering and in pain as I tried to think through it.
There was a new man he spoke to me, while there were other men who hurt me, men in white coats, this one was in a dark suit, he loomed over me. He spoke kindly in a southern accent. “Hey there, Little Lady. You know I don’t want to hurt you right? If you tell me what I want to know, I can make them start hurting you. You want that don’t you?”
I nodded, that was all I wanted at this point for the torture to stop, be it death or otherwise.
That sweet southern voice suddenly turned harsh and violent. I jumped, feeling ashamed afterwards. This had happened several times before; I shouldn’t have relaxed in the slightest bit. ‘Stupid!’
“Then tell me you stupid little b!tch, ARE THERE MORE OF YOU? “
“N-n-no!” I choked out, tears forming in my eyes. I knew what was next, it came in cycles. First the whipped at my back, then they snapped my fingers, and finally they slashed at me feet. This time, it should have been more abuse to my back, it should have.
But instead of picking up the whip like I expected, the man in the white lab jacket chose a dagger, he walked over to me, grinning. He was enjoying this. He raised his arm, allowing fear to flood me, before digging it into the top part of my arm.
I screamed, unable to hold it in, as the 3 inch piece of jagged metal ripped its way through my muscles and nerves, my will that had kept me silent so far was fading, I could feel it.
“Where are they you piece of sh!t?!? What can they do? What are they planning? When is the attack??”
The man holding the blade brought it down slowly, dragging it through my arm. I shrieked. The pain was unbearable; it rivaled anything and everything they had done to me before.
In between screams and bursts of pain, I cried out, “There is no attack!!”
‘sh!t.’
The man in the suit nodded to the man in white, who grinned even wider. He pulled the blade through my arm again, a little bit harder and more quickly before yanking it out, leaving me bleeding. I screamed again.
“So there are more then.” He said, smiling.
“No! I mean—I don’t-“ I desperately fought to cover it up, to save those I had just condemned. But it was in vain, they had what they needed.
The man in the suit made like he was tipping an invisible hat. “Why thank you little Lady, you can go now, we’re done here.”
As if on cue, the man in the white coat walked over to me, raised his knife again, and brought it down swiftly to my neck. I could feel it slice through my major veins(I could see my blood splurt and gush out onto the man’s white coat all I could think was that it served him right, I’d like to see him get that stain out), then my windpipe (oh God, I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.) and then through the other side of my neck. This was it; I was finally going to die. Finally.
Just as I was about to slip into unconsciousness, the concrete room before me faded, and I entered a vision.
Death. Death and blood. As far as the eye could see. It was a battle field. It was a war between two different groups, yet exactly the same. Gifteds versus normals. From the look of it, only one would survive. But who?
And it was all, my fault.
And her world faded to black.
---
“At the same time as the young psychic was being… persuaded, yes, that was a good word, another young freak was being… persuaded too.
“Said boy, after hours of intense questioning, finally gave up the same information as the girl. Both reported there to be more like themselves. Many, many more freaks. They did, however, refuse to release the exact whereabouts.” The man in the dark suit reported to his boss. “So we made sure to dispatch the threats.
His boss nodded. “Good work. Our primary goal, until further stated, is to capture and dispatch all of these abominations swiftly. Inform the press, the public must be made aware of the monsters living among them.” The man nodded, leaving his boss alone in the room.
The boss watched his man leave, smirking.
This is war.
----------
oh, and italics later. in a bit of a rush.