FalconX: The Wretched (Book One)

Chapter 9

I awoke in a strange place, it was all white, and it had the smell of hand sanitizer. But, I was not alone. Storm had just walked in, and she had a warm smile on her face. “Ah,” She greeted, “you’re awake.”

            I tried to lift myself up from the cot, but I couldn’t—I was strapped to the bed. “Why am I strapped to the bed?” I asked confusedly.

            Storm looked puzzled at my question, but just simply answered, “When you were out cold you were floating around everywhere, so we kind of had to strap you down.”

            “Can I get up now?” I asked.

            “I don’t know, are you going to float away?” Storm joked.

            “No,” I laughed, and Storm walked over to my bed and unlocked the leather straps from my arms and legs, and I rubbed my wrists from the tightness of the leather straps. I hopped down from the hard cot and looked at Storm, and I asked, “How long was I out?”

            Storm was whipping down the cot I had been laying on when she looked up and simply replied, “A couple hours, but every thirty minutes Mr. Maximoff would check in to see if you were ok—it got quite annoying though. But, if I can tell one thing about him, he’s a keeper.”

            Next to my cot was a bin that had my shoes, clothes, bow, and quiver. I was still in my suit, so I just walked out of the room barefoot with my bin. But, before I was out of the room Storm said, “It’s almost time for dinner, and I would suggest that you visit Mr. Maximoff before he dies from not seeing you.”

            I walked out of the medical room and down the hall towards the training hall and where our uniform cases were, my bare feet walked along the cold, white linoleum, and I finally reached the cases. The cases were in alphabetical order, so mine was in the front.

            My case was empty, and I stared at my reflection in the case. How could I be a murderer again? It was wrong, but it felt so right.

            In my reflection I saw a man behind me, he had black hair in the shape of devil horns, a slight beard, and a cigar in his mouth—I proclaimed him my god father: Logan Howlett

            I smiled and turned around, Logan looked happy to see me awake and even better alive. “How you doing, kid?” He asked with pity in his nearly black eyes.

            “I’m ok, just a bit freaked from that incident,” I said quietly, “I’ve got to go change. I’ll see you at dinner.” I began to walk away from Logan and towards the bathroom, it was utterly silent in the hallway, and it gave me the chills.

            I opened the bathroom door and changed into my short sleeved, black t-shirt, light blue skinny jeans, purple converse, and purple zip up hoodie; I left the hoodie unzipped. In the mirror I saw that I still had my dark blue under eye circles even from my passing out and sleeping well, I had them because I’m a very light sleeper from living on the streets of New York—you can’t trust anyone in that place.

            After what seemed like forever I went out of the bathroom with my suit in my arms and placed it back in its case with my bow and quiver, and I began to walk down the hallway towards the elevator. A red stain was on the floor from where I shot one of Stryker’s men down, and the worst part of seeing that stain was that I wanted to do it all over again just to have the feeling again.

            I wanted to kill again.

            I walked to the elevator and used my telekinesis to push the button of the door, and it opened abruptly. Inside stood Silver, he looked worried, but once he got a look at me the frown on his face transformed into a smile. Silver threw his arms around me and hugged me tightly, “Oh good god, you’re ok,” Silver sighed in relief.

            “Did I hurt you?” I asked and I was released from Silver’s death hug, and I looked at his face solemnly. The side of his head was bandaged, and I was guessing from where everyone and thing around me went up and was jerked around. “I hurt you, didn’t I?” I grieved.

            “No, no, no; I just cut on something that hit my head, and you know that you couldn’t control it,” Silver tried to soothe me, but I knew that I head hurt him; I felt terrible about it.

            We stepped inside the elevator and went up to the main floor, Silver’s hand was interlocked in mine, and the doors of the elevator opened revealing a complete mess. Debris was everywhere still; paintings were thrown across the room, parts of the room were incases in ice, and some parts of the room were burnt.

            It looked like there was a lot more damage that had been done than I had thought.

            “Now,” Silver asked curiously, “are you going to tell me about your plan?”  We walked into the parlor where it was completely empty, I sat down on one of the blue couches and Silver sat down next to me. He looked intently at me and his grey eyes begged me to tell him my plan.

            “I want to kill Stryker,” I stated blankly, “I’ve had this plan for a while, but I want you and me to sneak out in the middle of the night and find Stryker and,” I was cut off my Abi Stark standing in front of us.

            “So,” She said snidely, “you want to kill Stryker. But, to kill him, first you have to get out of this place, and I have the perfect plan for that—you will need my help.” She smiled evilly.

            “Go on, Stark,” I said intrigued.

            She pulled up a chair and sat in front of us, and began to speak, “It will have to be in the middle of the night, so everyone will be asleep. Silver or you will have to put me on your back so we will go so fast that the security cameras won’t pick us up, and I’m assuming you know where his base is now,” I shook my head for a no, and Abi replied, “it’s on an island off of Ellis Island, and you will have to take us there.”

            “That’s a great plan,” Silver stated, “but how are we getting in to his base?”

            “That’s where you two come in, and I’m assuming that you can run fast enough to go through walls,” Abi spoke again, and Silver and I nodded, “you will have to run in and take down all of the guards that are in your way. Then Mara will go off and kill Stryker, and all of us will have to get out as fast as we can.”

            “I like that plan,” I said, “so that’s how we’ll kill Stryker. It was a lot better than the one I had in store.”

            “I want this to happen on February 3,” Abi stormed away after her final sentence.

            February 3 was only a week away, and I was determined to get out of this hell hole.