Chapter Text
You were strapped down, couldn't move. They were taking blood samples, so many. Claustraphobia was making you panic, making you pull against the leather bounds. You wanted to thrash about, to stop the needles, to stop them from taking all of this blood. You were almost certain that they had enough. Like seriously, they must of had at least a tray full of the crimson liquid. You needed a drink. You needed to eat. You wanted to go home. You wanted this to stop. Knives. Needles. Bright lights. Masks. Faces. Words. Guns. Wait, why was there guns? Why was there more people than usual?
Terror
Why, why must they do this?
Why must they stab, inject, cut?
Why?
You cried out for help.
But nobody came.
Still struggling.
Why won't it work?
Ha, the million dollar question.
Why won't it work?
Why won't it work?
Where is everyone?
Why did they leave?
Why are you always alone?
Why won't they help you?
Why did they always leave you. Why why why.
What did you do to deserve this.
You woke up. Again.
You laid there, wondering the what and whys. You wondered, but you didn't want to know. Maybe someone would help you get out today? Ha! As if. You had been here for the past... Uh, you didn't know. Somehow, that made it worse, not knowing what day, what month, what year. But you did know that you'd been here a long time. You hated everything here. You had given up. No hope. No DETERMINATION. No PATIENCE left either. Well, not much anyway. You still awaited help, even though you knew it was worthless. But you had to pretend everything was ok. For your little brother, at least. You'd give him the world if it meant keeping him happy. But in this place, he wasn't happy. No one could be. But he kept hoping. He kept praying. He'd say to you:
"______! Don't worry! Help will come soon! We just have to wait. Right ______?"
Your heart would break every time. And you would reply the same every time.
" Yeah bro. We just have to wait. Help will come to us soon."
You just wished magic wasn't real. But wishing wasn't going to do shit for you now. But you couldn't ACT either. Not unless you wanted to be shot. So many armed men here. Why was that? Did you even want to know? Probably something to do with the 'normal' people's protection. Because you weren't normal-- you were monstrosities. Mutant fuck-ups. Worthless pieces of trash. That's what they told you. You couldn't protect your brother from it all either. He had asked- Oh, there you go again.
Your head touched the ceiling. You sighed. You were now floating, people hanging off your legs, yet again. Moving on. He had already asked you if he was a thing that was scary, and unnecessary in this world. Something that could be thrown away. You had almost cried for him. You assured him that no, he was very necessary, and that he would make an impact on this world one day.
One day. One day you'd get out of here. One day, you were going to make them pay for this. One day, you'd make them pay for making your brother think he was worthless. And they would come crashing down. And you would make sure that they were to never see the light of day, ever again.
You promised this to yourself.