Asylum

Janitor Duty

Elektra

For challenging a guard's authority and threatening a citizen of Asylum, I'm on janitor duty for the next week. Me, Elektra, mighty woman of electricity on janitor duty. Do janitors form raging clouds of lightning? No. This is a ridiculous punishment. But ridiculousness is this place's MO.

You might be curious as to what my last name is. Well, get in line. Hell, I'm curious to know what my first name even is. My parents dropped me off on the doorstep of an orphanage the moment they saw my markings. They were terrified of me along with the other orphans. I only earned the nickname "Elektra" from when I first used my power in front of the others. I had harnessed a lightning bolt and skewered a rabid coyote.

I was praised for that action. We actually skinned that coyote and ate its meat after cleansing it. I was born in Russia, where it's always freezing and the people are desperate for warmth and body fuel.

When I was 10, I ran off. The kids who came in and out of the orphanage were a pain. They either hung out with me so I can show them my markings and ability, or they were deathly afraid of me. I was never adopted, obviously, so the pain of having to see all the cute little weaklings get rewarded and not me was destructive. But, I learned to live with it. My councilor said that this made me apathetic, but I beg to differ. What made me apathetic was what happened after I ran away.

I mixed with the wrong people. A gun-running gang found me scrounging around an alley, knocking over trashcans and surfing the dumpsters for edible food, if it wasn't frozen by the snow already. They took me in and taught me everything they knew. The boss, Brovinski, taught me marksmanship with rifles. Eventually, at age 13, I was brought along with them to missions. I was the best sniper on the team. I picked the streets clean of enemies of the gang.

As a result to learning how to use a gun with fatal accuracy, I channeled the same teachings with my lightning. Eventually, I figured out how to create toothpick-thin or power-poll thick bolts. Both required extraneous energy to produce, but I became so notorious in Russia that they called me "the flash of death."

When I was 16, an opposing gang invaded our territory. Brovinski's men all went down, but in a time of desperation, I figured out how to produce multiple bolts at once. Brovinski was the closest thing I had to a parent, and I often called him father.

At the display of my power, the other gang surrendered. They wanted to make me their new leader, but I explained that Brovinski was the one to rule. The gang said they wouldn't accept his leadership. Brovinski grew furious that they would choose me over him, and he challenged me to a fight to the death.

The gun dual lasted 0.2 seconds. I shot Brovinski in an instant. I know that he would've done the same to me if had been ready before I was.

The gang under the rule of the Flash of Death thrived for about a year until a mysterious girl showed up under orders of some secret agency. She was like me: a freak with markings and a power. But while my markings of lightning veins glowed when I used my ability, this girl's grew.

Half of her body was consumed in shadowy swirls of black. Our guns didn't work on her and my lightning went through her, but didn't damage her. She had the power of invincibility for a period of time. But judging by the dark markings growing over her the longer she sustained immortality, I bet that once her body is completely dark, she becomes penetrable again.

Because if there's one thing I know, it's that if something moves, it bleeds.

But I ran out of time. The girl was some sort of acrobat mixed with a parkour runner mixed with martial arts. She took out my team and cuffed me with power-restricting cuffs. And then I was delivered here, to Asylum, where's I've been imprisoned for roughly a year.

And now, the Flash of Death is on janitor duty.

The Dragon, Ren, apologized. But apologies are empty words that don't even relieve me of scraping gum off the tables.

I can't imagine anyone ever liking this place besides Kya Carter. She always gets the good end of the Asylum deals. I find Kya really nice, but being nice doesn't get you ahead in life. To me, she's weak. Kya wouldn't last a day in the part of Russia where I came from. I've never seen her use her power, which tells me it's either a lame one or she's too unable to do so.

Me not using my lightning is like not using my right arm. My ability is a vital part of me that gives me part of my identity.

"You missed a wad of gum," a voice says from behind me. Dropping my scraper, I whirl around to see Cerberus Severo. His hair is an odd dusty color and his eyes are a dark gray. Cerberus is tall and rather tiredly handsome, if you liked disheveled hair and sleepy eyes.

I grunt at him in response. Cerberus and I are good friends, but nothing special. I'm pissed that he used my own power against me.

"Are you still upset?" he asks, sitting down on the bench connected to the table I'm working on.

"I'm wearing a janitor's outfit and you lightning bolted me to the ground," I remind him. "Yeah, I'm a little upset."

"I didn't want to do it, if it makes you feel any better," he offers. Right now, Cerberus's MPD is contained. Which is good. I couldn't handle a split Cerberus right now. I'd electrocute him to a crisp.

"It doesn't matter how I feel, I'm still scraping gum off tables and chairs," I grumble.

Let me tell you something about how I feel. Physically, it's hard for me to do so. Using the high heat and voltage for lightning has kind of fried most of my sensory feelers. Emotionally, I'm on the apathetic side. I need to learn how to "open up and accept the world," as my therapist puts it. But whenever she says that, I tell her that the only thing I'll open up about myself is my mouth to tell her she's stupid and out of her mind.

"I'll help you," Cerberus offers. "The quicker we get this cleaned up, the quicker you can be back on guard duty."

"What's the rush?" I inquire, tossing my hair back. Like Kya's hair, mine also has strands of color: sapphire blue amid a pin-straight, dirty blonde waterfall.

"I saw the new guy, Ren, up in a watchtower with Kya. They didn't seem on good terms. So, Leo was in my range and I used his power to read Kya's mind..." Cerberus trails off, waiting for me to jump in and act intensely interested, but that's not how I roll. Sighing, he continues. "Leo, Sarah, and Ren are planning an escape. Kya refused to help –"

"Of course."

"- but Ren is still on board. And that guy's got some serious force of power. Also, Sarah's power..." Cerberus shudders. "It's demonic. Which is why I need the best defender out there."

Slowly, I nod, considering the pros and cons. I keep dragon boy in here as revenge for being a part of the reason for janitor duty...sounds good. "Alright, deal. But you have to finish all of the tables in here by yourself."

Uneasily, Cerberus looks around. "How many tables or benches have you done?"

"You're sitting on it."

Deeply, Cerberus sighs. He tilts his head back and lets out an exaggerated moan. Nevertheless, he takes my scraper and tray from me. "The things I do for you..."

"Explode me to the ground?" I retort.

"That's one of them," he teases, getting straight to work.

Walking away, I start to think. I hate Asylum with all my tiny little heart. Sure, I'll play the loyal guard for now, but when the time comes, I'm going to have to betray Cerberus to leave with the off trio of Ren, Leo, and Sarah. If I was a normal person, stabbing Cerberus in the back would be incredibly hard. When he's himself, he's compassionate and laid back with a heart of gold.

But I'm not like these normal people. Ruining my trust with Cerberus will be easy, considering I shot the man I once called Father faster than you can blink.