COMPLETED
Mad:
•Insane
•Very angry
•Great, remarkable
Sang Sorenson is mad. Very mad. But growing up in the mafia with an abusive family, who wouldn't be? Sang is ordered to kidnap a certain growing team in the Academy, the Blackbourne-Toma team. Wi...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I walk stiffly to my prisoners, trying to control my rage.
My hands are clenched, my nails digging into the moon shaped scars on my palms. My left eye is twitching and I am counting by every other prime number as I attempt to calm down.
My ribs and whole torso scream in pain with every move I make.
I take the rubber band off my braid, it was just barely hanging on anyway. The long chameleon hair spills around me and hits my ankles.
With heaving breaths, I fling open the door to their cells and close all of the cells off except for one.
I stomp toward Marc and growl, "Give me one reason why I shouldn't torture you to death."
My hand moves so fast drawing my knife, it is as if my knife just appears in my hand.
Marc pales and forced out, "Because you are a good person?"
I stare at him. And stare at him. Finally, I throw my head back laughing wildly.
Wiping away my happy tears I school my features into an emotionless mask and look at him.
"You know what? Just for that, I will let you live," I announce. "Your humor has saved you."
Well, and his awesome different colored eyes. He has a green eye and a blue eyes that look super cool.
Marc still looks kinda terrified.
He doesn't seem like the bravest.
"So, what has you so angry?" Marc asks tentatively.
I roll my eyes and scoff, "Mother beat me with the strap again and I'm not allowed to kill her. Plus, my ribs are broken from my fight a few days ago. And I got locked in the Waiting Room and then the White Room. Did I mention I hate Mother and Father?"
Marc looks at me wide eyed.
"Sang, are you being serious?"
"Of course I'm fucking being serious!" I growl. "You think I would joke about me life?!"
Marc mumbles, "Well, you don't seem exactly the most stable..."
I laugh drlyly.
"That," I inform him. "May or may not be true."
"Are you okay?" Marc asks worried before sucking his head shyly.
I smirk, "Worried are we? That's okay. I'm fine. Broken ribs and bruises are nothing."
"Well, can you at least let Sean look over you? He's a doctor, you know," Marc suggests.
I consider it.
What's the worst that could happen?
I let him out of his cell, he overpowers me, sets his team free, rapes me, beats me, tortured me to death, while doing the same to those I love in front of me.
