Angel of War

Chapter 3: The Awakening

He woke up to a crash of metal and moaning.

He stumbled over to the next room and stared at her from the doorway, still in haze from the night before. She was crying and wriggling her limbs against their bonds. 

"You're alright now. No need for all that." He went over and rested his hand on her forehead, tempted to wipe at the tears that rolled down each side of her face. "Come on, can't have you rusting up what I've already fixed."

Her moans were deep sobs that shook the whole table. 

"Why are you crying?" He stood there and watched her. Her mouth struggled with words that wouldn't come out and it was just more sniffling.  He wondered if he should get the cadou. "Look at me, girl," she blinked away black tears and her shiny eyes met his once again, but this time wide and surprised. He wasn't wearing his sunglasses, and his eyes were lighter, friendlier, than she imagined they might have been.

"Is it the same pain as before?" She worried her lip and tried to think past the sobbing breaths. She shook her head slightly. "No?"

She watched him rake through the hair in front of his eyes. If she could make words, she would have asked him to… do something, anything that would let her know this was real. He turned his back from her and she let out a panicked squeak. He was leaving her alone again. He turned his head and stopped in his tracks.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you… crying out loud…" He muttered as he continued back out the door. 

The few minutes seemed to last too long for her. She wondered if he would come back and help her if she could say anything. The pain was gone, whatever he had done, but now there was an aching metallic tinge flowing from her spine and into her mouth. Her head felt like it was underwater, pressurized and picking up sounds that weren't there. 

The heavy sound on the table opened her eyes again and he was leaning over her with a gloved hand hovering over her eyes. She involuntarily jumped at his sudden return. He puffed on the cigar in concentration, avoiding those eyes again. He tried reaching out to the electrical currents the metal was conducting through her body. Like a radio adjusting stations, he could feel it stronger in certain places, and he followed it. Soon he could feel her heartbeat as if he was holding it in his hands. 

She watched his hand stop in the air and his fingers flexed slightly with the creaking leather glove. Her chest suddenly felt tight and the air she had in her lungs halted in place. His eyes finally met hers and he watched her carefully as she felt her breathing restart and slowly even out. 

"That's it…" He set the hand to her shoulder and pulled the syringe out with the other. One quick pinch to the neck…

She winced at the sudden warmth and it spread quickly, sending a shiver down her neck and arms. It pushed against the straps holding her down, not her wrists, but the liquid underneath their skin. Her whole body felt swollen and twisted and she had to close her eyes again to fight the foreign feeling. She heard snapping, crashes of metal. She felt like she was spinning. And then there was that tightness in her chest again and everything froze.

"Good…" She opened her eyes to a scene that felt distant. She could feel his breath on her hand. He was- she was holding him by the throat? Was that her hand? But wasn't she on the table? She blinked and looked around. The table wasn't even under her. She was standing on strange looking legs. The table was quite a bit away from them, and it looked like something exploded on it, the straps frayed and the metal scraped away in slits.

His throat shook under her palm.

"You can put me down now, sweetheart…" His hand was around her wrist before she even felt it and her fingers loosened on their own. He was just holding her arm up now.

"I'd say that's a good sign." He chuckled. She tried to meet his eyes and feel like it was an action that was hers alone. It faltered to his gloved hand clamped down around the flesh that was her wrist. She tried flexing her fingers and saw a dark pattern of vein-like webs react with the movement. 

"What did you do to me?" Her voice finally croaked out from her very empty feeling ribs.

"Well, it seems like I did alright." He turned her wrist over in his hand, examining it, testing the flex of the muscles to her shoulders. She felt the tightness again, even though her arm was so limp in his grasp. "Any pain?"

"Uh… I- no… but."

"But?"

"My chest…" 

"Oh, sorry bout that." Before she could even explain it, it was gone just as suddenly. He flexed his hand. "I guess you would've tried to attack me again if you wanted to, huh?" 

None of that made sense to her but he chuffed at the idea, and looked around the floor beneath them as he patted his pockets. 

"Ah," and he picked up the cigar from the tiles. "There we go. All settled now."

She looked around the room, suddenly feeling small and overwhelmed by not feeling pain like before. It was dark, grimy… there were rumbles coming from the hall and under her feet. Sounds of machinery. 

"Where are we?" She found him across the table twisting his cigar on the metal and messing with his glove. He looked over at her a little startled.

"Oh. My factory." He brushed the cigar off and placed it back in his mouth before quickly stepping out of the room. He came back with those small sunglasses on and was pulling on a shirt. "We need to get you something to wear then…" 

She stared at him with doe-like eyes as he unbuckled his belt and shoved the partially buttoned shirt into his pants. She looked down at herself and saw a field of bandages. She looked back up at him, rolling his sleeves and a lighter was clicking to light his cigar. But he wasn't holding it. Her eyes got even wider. It was floating in the air like a phantom was waving it around. The flame extinguished, the lid snapped shut and the lighter gently disappeared into his breast pocket. He fastened his belt and puffed the cigar pointedly.

"And we need to see what you can do." He grinned and walked towards her but stopped when he saw her frozen to the spot, a deer in headlights. 

"What's going on?" She looked like that whining little girl again, not the monstrous being that broke free and instantly threatened his life. She was staring at him like he was the freak now. "What happened to me?"

"Mmmf." He puffed. "What do you remember?"

"The pain." Her voice still felt strange. "And asking you to help me…" She rubbed at her wrists.

"Ah. Well you were experimented on. By Miranda. She didn't want you anymore for herself, so I tried to fix you back up to where she gave up." He looks her over. "And I think it went pretty well so far considering all that."

"Miranda…?" She shuttered and he rolled his eyes so dramatically his head rolled with them. 

"Ah Mother… we'll be seeing her again tonight." He takes another drag and looks her in the eye. His voice changes it's tone and each word seems to be performed. "She's the maniac that put us all here. She takes people, makes them monsters. The bitch doesn't even know why she does it anymore. She says it's family. Calls us lords. The village treats us like gods but we can't even leave because of her. Because of our gifts." He turns, shaking his head like he's trying to cut himself off.

"Then… am I a monster? You aren't-" 

"Shut up." He barked, rounding on her so fast his pointed finger almost hit her. "Don't start thinking about that shit. You don't know anything about me. And you-" He struggles to find the right way to say it and his showman voice falters. "You're not a monster. You don't even know what's going on. I fixed you and she can't make you one now. So don't think about it..." She was getting good at seeing his eyes, even past the sunglasses, and it made him uncomfortable. "Come on." He starts for the door.

"Lord… uh" She tries a few steps forward to follow him. 

"Heisenberg… just call me Heisenberg." He walks back to grab her hand and pulls her behind him. "We need to get you ready."