The Price I Paid

1: A Mission Gone Wrong

*Photo is Griffin*

"I believe in one thing only; the power of human will." - Joseph Stalin

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"Earth to Clara!" Someone shouted, except their shouts were blurry and faded, as if they were worlds away. I was engulfed in my own universe-- allowing the thoughts to crowd my head without any resistance via actions, consideration, or feelings. It helped ease the pain when it came to be too much.

"You're ruining the session!" Another voice hissed, and a low grunt sounded before reality struck me.

I took in a gaping breath, as if I'd been starved of oxygen for several minutes, and frantically looked around me. I was back in my room, the large mural of a japanese cherry blossom painted over the cold steel of the foundation warmly welcoming me as I traced its patterns with my eyes. My fists closed, gathering bunches of the light pink fabric of my bedsheets to voice the slight annoyance sprouting within.

"What now?" I grumbled, silencing the incessant echoes of bickering. My brow raised in question, looking between the two women. Red still sat in the desk chair, her brilliant curls of scarlet billowing down her white blouse and form-fitting black skirt. Raven, the intruder, stood with her arms crossed over her chest, wearing a long, white top and leggings shredded down the sides.

"We're going out," Raven stated, tossing me a mass of black fabric before she departed. I sighed, thanking Red for trying to help anyways, then moved on to my closet.

And judging from the disheveled state that small space was in, I knew where Raven stopped first before pulling myself from the calm state Red had helped place me.

Officially understanding where the clothing came from-- once more, that being my closet-- I pulled on the black v neck and yoga pants. They were extremely comfortable for me, but claiming that we were "going out" usually meant we were assigned to a mission. I didn't want to go through the searing pain of searching through my mind and figuring out what the mission was, so I grabbed a sweatshirt and wore the best pair of tennis shoes I could find.

I walked down the hall, ignoring the sheer, metal walls required to keep the underground bunker my group held residence over in tact. I was growing used to the dull gray of it all... Everyone was, because above ground held masses of dogs and military personel searching for us-- and if it wasn't the humans, it was either the werewolves or the vampires...

Sometimes both.

The haughty nature of mutants having discovered they were extremely unique, and some of them could even slaughter effortlessly, brought the desire for power-- The desire to be on top. And from it, they brought war. That was why my adoptive mutant of a mother was murdered before my eyes, and that's why I craved the same fate for those who bestowed death upon the dearly departed.

Except my natural persistence to keep some information confidential, which my knowledge of all being the reason I was recruited in the first place, was why they put me on a team dedicated to delivering enemy intelligence.

I'd spent weeks of bloody noses and raging migraines to track the files our boss had so despairingly demanded to know the whereabouts of, so that proposed a hint as to where we were headed. To my understanding-- and my understandings weren't wrong-- that file held populations of wolf packs across the US.

And the best way of defeating your enemy is by knowing them better than they know themselves.

"Took you long enough," Gigi hissed impatiently, her thick hair pulled back into a cascade of wavy, blonde locks. Her blue eyes popped out from the dark makeup surrounding them, and she wore black sweatpants under the oversized, grey t-shirt. I automatically assumed the beanie was to try and cover some of her light hair-- as if it'd be visible amongst the dark shade Raven would eventually conjure about us.

"Heads up, Clara," Red spoke, a soft rattling noise sounding to my right-- and coming closer. I held my hands out, catching the bottle of Advil, and sent Red a soft nod of appreciation. Headaches were normal occurences for me, but the pain medication never hurt. I washed down a pill with some tap water, then securing my sweatshirt around me before we left.

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"Raven," Gigi murmured lowly, the first sound uttered since we'd begun driving along the vast, winding road in the darkest hours of the night. Raven already knew what Gigi meant, and the lights of the car began to dim until no sort of illumination displayed our path.

And no enemies our location.

Gigi took a right onto a hidden, dirt trail, driving us forward until we met one of the several entrances there had to be. I thought the view I had from the back of the car was amazing, but leaning forward to see the rest of the establishment took my breath away.

It was a massive, victorian palace-- the outside bricks a pale brown, and we were only in the lot of a small gathering of cottages-- what I assumed was some sort of employee housing-- that was cut off from some sort of garage. Gigi turned the car off, rolling all windows down.

If there were any guards out-- and there definitely had to be-- they'd hear a car door.

As routine came to occur, I slipped out the window and used the door to help myself in accomplishing a silent landing. I could already notice the area growing darker, so I quickly snuck my way to Raven-- as the others were doing. We all held hands, knowing Raven would be the only one to see (which included the guards) when she made it dark enough. As a secondary precaution, Red would alter the perception of the guards... Make them see normal palace grounds so they couldn't be alerted.

And if all else failed, we had Gigi to leave them screaming and crumpled on the floor in agonizing pain.

I took the lockpick from Gigi, toying with the small space given until a low 'click'  sounded. The corner of my lip pulled back into a smug grin, purely showcasing my satisfaction, before the door creaked open. I felt Raven wrap her hand around mine, then moved to the side to allow her forward. From the rendition of morse code we'd created by squeezing one another's hands, Raven had informed us there were 3 men in whatever room we were in. Two guarding a door, and one patrolling the halls. We all glued ourselves to the wall opposite the door, inching along and keeping our breathing level.

Hall after hall, place after place-- and musty, old, and dastardly smell after smell, I could finally feel my hands on the warm bronze of the handles. The door would lead to the alpha's office-- which, in turn, would give us our files. I picked the lock and opened the door, and we all froze.

Crack!

Raven's cover suddenly faltered, leaving us in the open. I looked around us, noting the several guards with awaiting grins-- and then to Gigi, who was lying on the floor. Her skin was paling, and her eyes had rolled to the back of her head, leaving a mouth agape and an array of panic amongst us.

The crowd then parted, leaving a towering-- and buff-- man glaring down at us with intense, purple eyes and evident swirls of black. I instinctively tucked myself behind Raven, refusing tears to shed as I heavily weighed my probabilities of escaping with the remnants of my group. Then, the probabilities of escaping alone.

"Fancy meeting you girls here," the man spoke pompously, the evident power in his voice bringing me to flinch the slightest. This man had expected us to come, he knew that we'd find out where the files were.

And he'd planned ahead.