Sympathy for the Devil {Liam Stewart | The Darkest Minds}

3. Phoenixes

In the middle of the night, after almost six-hundred-and-fifty days on the road (Mags had been counting) they take her away. Hands and feet bound, she doesn't even realise anything's happened after she wakes up from being tranquilized in a brick-lined room with a large, metal tube in it, connected through smaller tubes to the ceiling. The only other thing of note, besides a small, metal toilet, was a thick, metal door, with an little window in it big enough for a small plate of food to be passed through, or for an invasive pair of eyes to peer into.

The last thing she remembers is having an argument with Clancy that got heated; she had told him that she's sick of feeling like a dancing monkey while her powers were left to collect dust because they were 'too dangerous'.

"It's for your own good!" Clancy yelled, hands fisted in his hair as he paced back and forth.

"What's for my own good? For me to be at your beck and call at every given moment when we're alone? I'm not your goddamn plaything, Clancy!" She hollered in return, standing atop the bed with her cheeks heating up as she spoke, eyes glowing red. It's with a defeated sigh that he approaches her, hand outstretched. "Don't touch me."

"Mags-" Clancy freezes mid-step, his open palm balling into a fist as he retracts what seemed to be a gesture of peace. After a beat, he offers her his hand, a foot away, palm up, inviting. "I'm sorry." His eyes glow orange, and Mags' hand reaches out for his without her even intending to, like it has a mind of it's own. He's in her mind. "Please, Mags, it's for your own good, I won't hurt you."

She's stepping towards him now, not of her own accord, and though she can't speak, can't move of her own volition, she can feel the white-hot rage inside her beginning to bubble over. Eyes burning bright red, she opens her mouth and bubbling, liquid metal begins to pour out, like a faucet had been turned all the metal she had consumed over the past two years came pouring out in one steady flow, at a high enough temperature that it caused the bedding and floor that it touched to catch alight, and for Clancy's focus to be broken.

"What- what the hell?!" Clancy screams and his hold on her is broken. Bolting for the door, she snaps her mouth shut, holding her clothes together from where the fiery liquid had scorched a trail to the floor. On the other side of the door, she's met with two guards holding guns, ready and waiting. "Don't hurt her-!" Clancy cries as she skitters back at the sight, now terrified, with liquid metal dripping from her nose. His hand closes around her upper arm and the last thing she hears is his voice as everything goes dark.

"I won't let them hurt you, Maggie, but you don't make it easy, do you?"

The room she's in is alien to her, but she is unharmed. They've got her in some sort of heat resistant suit that isn't exactly itchy, but also isn't comfortable, and it's covered by a yellow, loose fitting t-shirt and pants.

"Please! I'm reformed! I'm Maggie Lyn, I'm broken, I promise!" She beat her fists against the door for what felt like hours until someone finally came to see her. By the gun in his hand, she could tell whatever news he had for her wouldn't be good.

"Shut it, boiler girl." He snapped, though the name, as cruel as it sounded, meant very little to her.

"What- what do you mean?" She pleaded. "Why am I here?" Sobbing now, she has her eyes pressed to the little opening where the guard was glaring at her with suspicion.

"You really don't get it?" At his question, all she could do was sob louder. "You're too recognisable for Gen-Pop," after a pause, he elaborated, "General Population. Can't have the face of reformed kids showing off that it's not true." Another pause and he smirked. "So here you are, our little hot water heater." It hits her like a freight train, the realisation of where she is, that the guards managed to overpower Clancy, though he kept his promise, and that this was her new life in this underground cell that was essentially solitary confinement.