Pain lingers in every point of my body. My wrists are sore from the chains that string me to the wall, as are my feet. My stomach feels like it has been sliced into pieces, due to the amount of times they've hit me. And my neck feels like it's barely hanging by a string. Overall, miserable is an understatement. I'm dying.
My favorite time of the day is when they leave me hanging by my chains, slamming the heavy door behind them. They usually leave me like that for a few hours, telling me to think about whether or not I will cooperate next time they come in. It's my favorite time of the day simply because it's the only time they aren't hurting me, emotionally or physically.
I prefer the RBMC; and that says a lot. Compared to here, the Mutant Headquarters run by that psychopath scientist seems like Heaven. Here, they don't feed me at all. I haven't gotten any water or food and it's seldom that I get any sleep, hanging by chains all day, everyday.
Overall, it's exactly how I would have pictured the Dark Angels Headquarters. Cruel, raw, and merciless. The only thing that they do give me is the time and date. Every time they come and visit me (visit is hardly the word for it), they provide me with the date and time of the day. Of course, it isn't for the right reasons. They do it to torment me; to try to convince me that I won't be rescued.
The sound of the heavy, bolted door to my cell has become my worst nightmare. So naturally, when I hear it opening, I automatically cringe and stare at the floor. I hear footsteps walk in and my heart begins to quicken.
I feel someone grab my chin and thrust it upwards. I'm staring at Melinda Crespo. After a few moments of her eyes staring down at me, she reaches up and punches my nose. I scrunch my nose up to try and cope with the pain. Tears stream down my face from the sting of it, and I have to bite my tongue to avoid letting out a cry.
I had been wrong about Melinda Crespo. There are things that even our Headquarters doesn't know. Melinda is supposedly the serpent of the pack; but she never does the dirty work; never hurts anybody with her own hands. That's an error in our data work. She's the worst of them all.
If I ever get out alive, I will sure have a lot of new, accurate information to give to the Headquarters.
"Have you thought about it?" Melinda asks me, her eyes narrowing, as if she's daring me to speak. I don't. So she kicks me in the stomach; not that she wouldn't have if I had responded.
"You know," Melinda says, backing away and staring at the wall. "You know, you really can't win this. You can fight and rebel all you want, King. The result will always be the same." She pauses. "You can fight. You may even die trying. But you will never win."
It's barely an internal punch.
"And your little friends." She pauses again. "They aren't coming for you. They don't even know where you are."
"They'll figure it out," I croak. Big mistake.
Melinda turns back to me and before I can blink, there is another pain in my stomach. Her face is expressionless, and she begins slowly walking towards the wall, just to give herself something to do.
"But they won't," she says. "And even if they do, there's absolutely no possible way that we could miss four large ugly mutants. It's impossible not to notice them." I bite my lip—which has split and is bleeding.
She's right; at least about that. It's hard not to notice four large green mutants just waltzing in.
"Or do you think that they'll somehow find a way to sneak right on in? Do you actually believe that they're capable of that?" Melinda asks, her dark eyes boring into mine. I don't respond and she kicks my stomach again.
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The Rising (final book of The Call series) ~ TMNT Fanfiction
FanfictionA loss of family. A loss of love. A loss of direction & a lot of one's own mind. But because of what hasn't been lost, it goes on.
