STRANGULATE | Markicest

55 | CHERUB

I played the song above for both scenes with Mark. Slowed & Reverb songs are just 😍

...

Sensation came back to him in a gentle, iridescent flutter.

    Mark's body felt like it was floating, resting between dream and reality. His nerves thrummed under his skin like a faint hum, soothing him like a warm, golden embrace despite the cold.

    It was quiet around him; only a soft droning croon echoed around him, bringing life to the darkness around him. He felt himself smile, then grew aware of each breath passing through his lungs. His heartbeat swelled to life in his ears, and then the darkness stirred.

    His lashes fluttered, eyes opened, and when they finally adjusted to the dim light, he looked around, still dazed, still light and airy.

    He was in the laboratory.

    There weren't many windows in the building, but from a small one far away, he could tell it was night. All of the lights were off, save for a lamp at the lab table nearest him. He blinked, finding Syl and Ox huddled together, drawing up equations in front of a peculiar device.

    Mark stirred, blankets rustling over his body. He looked down at himself, brows raising. The metal table with leather straps had been replaced with a small, spindly bed. He sat up and winced, catching the scientists' attention.

    "You're up," said Ox, jumping to his feet. He carefully padded down the steps and stood beside the bed, hand resting on the thin wire bed frame. "How are you feeling?"

    Mark's brows furrowed, and he closed his eyes. His hand subconsciously hovered over his mouth.

    "We stopped the bleeding," said Ox softly, searching Mark's features. "You worried us for a bit there."

    Mark's hand slid down his throat, feeling it, and when he swallowed, it was sore. His entire body buzzed with a dull ache—like something vital had been stripped from him, leaving him bare. Incomplete.

    He couldn't place what it was.

    His eyes fluttered open, and he glanced at Ox; his features looked softer in the dim lighting. Grave, actually.

    "What... happened?" Mark mumbled. Ox's lips pursed, and Syl cleared his throat from the table.

    "We have to tell him he woke up," he said loudly. Mark knew he was talking about Antinstine.

    "Yes, I know," Ox said, sending a hard look at Syl. "I just wanted to make sure he was alright."

    "You can't be too soft with him," said Syl, never once looking up. He continued to scribble on his parchment and tweak with the machine in front of him. "No one just switches sides like that."

    Mark dug his fingers into the bed under the blanket, his expression going hard. As true as it was, he didn't like to be reminded about it. Everything had been going so smoothly lately—Antinstine thinking that Mark was a victim of Dark's—or Celine's—experiments; him thinking that Mark truly joined his side; him thinking that Mark actually stood for his cause.

    For an Evolved as powerful as Antinstine, he sure was gullible. He didn't need Syl planting distrust in his head.

    Ox sighed and turned back to Mark. "Don't listen to him," he said quietly. He motioned to Mark's body. "Are you in pain?"

    Mark pulled the blankets back and looked down at his hands. Still painted midnight black. He sighed to himself, shoulders slumping.

    "Just sore," he said. His brows furrowed. "The last thing I remember was going back to the mansion in the car." He glanced at Ox. "How long have I been out?"