We Live Forever

Chapter 26: SOS

Crimson's POV:

I'm woken by a terrible deep scream. My eyes bolt open and I find Hank writhing around screaming. The spot where rebar was keeps reappearing and bleeding and then quickly closing up. It's a constant cycle of impalement and healing, but the pain is consistently agonizing. He needs help; now.

"HELP!"

"WE NEED SOME HELP IN HERE!"

"SOMEONE COME HERE AND HELP US!"

"HELP!"

My throat burns and I'm willing to bet Charles' does too, but don't stop. We can't stop. Fuck the rules.

"HELP!"

"SOMEBODY HELP!"

"HELP US GOD DAMN IT!"

"TRASK I KNOW YOU'RE WATCHING! DO SOMETHING!"

"HELP!"

The door finally opened and half a dozen soldiers ran inside. Four of them tended to my husband and quickly took him someplace else. My husband is being taken care of, but there are still two soldiers here. 

"The rules are clear. Speak only when spoken to. Speak only what is necessary. Speak only to the boss. You've broken the rules. Disrespect isn't tolerated in this facility."

Each of the soldiers pulled out a syringe of some glowing gold liquid. They walk towards me and Charles separately. What the hell could be in that thing? They clearly want us alive and functioning, so nothing too permanent. 

One of them gets close to me with the syringe and I try to squirm away, but my chains keep me stuck in place. The soldier jabs the syringe into my neck and injects the mysterious substance into my body. 

"This should help you remember"

It hits immediately. The spot where it was injected feels like it's on fire. The burning feeling quickly increases and spreads throughout my veins. It feels like my blood is being boiled. Everything burns and stings and I give in and scream out in pain. The searing pain continues for several minutes before slowly fading away.

The soldiers finally leave us again. So, no asking for help I guess. 

"What's happening to Hank?" I ask Charles out of equal parts curiosity and boredom.

"His body is attempting to reject the mutation."

"Why? Lots of mutants have more than one ability."

"Lots of mutants have two abilities; it's incredibly common. Three, however, is unheard of. I don't know that it's possible. The transformation he underwent when he became Beast was massive and painful. I'd imagine this will be even worse."

"If his body rejects it, then..."

"He will die."

Hours pass without Hank. Charles and I talk from time to time, but things get boring fast. The food is still terrible and the view is less than great. I've already completely lost my sense of time. No sun and no clocks means we just guess how long it's been based on when they fed us and take us to the bathroom. 

The door opens again and this time it's me they want. They pick me up off the ground, a little rougher this time. I'm not opposed to the roughness, but a little warning would be great. 

Trask said that we are working together, but he's free and I spend most of my time chained to a wall. I haven't signed anything and I certainly have not given consent to them. Yet here I am being dragged down on a hallway. Perhaps chivalry is dead. 

I'm somewhere new this time. The second we enter the room I get a terrible feeling. My fight or flight response has been ticked off. I want to get out of here now. 

In the center of the room is this weird vaguely bed-shaped thing. It's got spots for my arms and legs to be extended away from my torse. There is also an uncomfortable amount of straps on the damn thing. This feels like a situation where is a safeword should be required, but none is offered. 

I'm placed onto the bed and my limps are moved to their proper place. Thick leather and metal straps are put on every part of my body and tightened to their full extent. I can't move any part of my body. I can't even tilt my head to look at the soldiers and see what's coming. 

I hear one of the soldiers click a bottom and then a camera above me turns on. They're clearly not exactly worried about evidence. They recorded this and that little interrogation the other day. I'd bet there are cameras in the cell too, I just need to find them and then look for blind spots. I'm not spending the rest of my life here. 

"Commencing test 1A"

I could feel a long cut be made across my forearm.

"4.6 seconds"

"Commencing test 1B"

The same cut was made.

"4.5 seconds"

"Commencing test 1C"

The cut was made again.

"4.6 seconds"

The cut certainly stung, but it healed quickly. The pain was manageable. I could hear light clattering and knew a different test would soon happen. I felt a small, but sharp tip be placed on my stomach.

"Commencing test 2A"

The soldiers whispered to each other and I only caught parts of it.

"Careful... important... last one"

They stopped whispering and got back to their jobs. Bizarre. 

Something very sharp and not very small was plunged into my body. I let out a guttural scream at the pain coming from the wound. 

"17.5 seconds"

The tests continued for hours. They would inflict some kind of wound and the time how long it took to heal. I was cut, stabbed, shot, you name it. For all the talk he put in, Trask was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he just likes to watch; creep.

Author's Note:

I really love putting Hank's life in danger, don't I?

I'm sorry, but it's fun in a very masochistic way. 

Speaking of masochism, the next chapter should be... interesting.

See you there!