Redesign Me, State of the Art (Jalex)

We're Getting The Hell Out Of Here

Jack's POV

To say that my heart stopped was a vast understatement. I'd say it was probably similar to the feeling of someone plunging their fist through your chest cavity, wiggling it around in there, snapping any chords that might have connected anything to the rest of your body, and finally plucking the organ out through your rib cage. It isn't every day that you are told by your boyfriend's father and one of your friends that your boyfriend is to be murdered in front of you and the rest of your genetically altered pals. Honestly, I didn't think that that would ever be a day anybody would have to live through, yet here we were.

I dug my nails into the palms of my hands. Everybody was watching Alex, but he refused to look at any of them. My gaze was locked on Hayley's. Her eyes narrowed like a satisfied cat, simply cocking her head to the side. The intense feeling of rage harbored itself in the empty space of my chest before quickly being replaced by fear as several pairs of hands gripped Alex and lifted him from his seat. After all, I was the handcuffed, mute, and pretty much helpless one in this situation.

He by no means gave them an easy time manhandling him. The struggle consisted of his right elbow connecting with one of their stomach's, the left producing a sharp jab to another one's shoulder that was effective in releasing him from captivity for a moment. He leapt toward the freedom of the door he had originally entered. The odds were against him though, and it wasn't long before firm fists had delivered punches to his gut alongside a few slams to the cheek. The blows clearly knocked the wind out of his already bloodied breath.

"That's far enough, thank you," Hayley ordered the man.

He nodded and violently tossed Alex to his knees, facing the table of his peers. Even though he wasn't standing, his body swerved precariously from side to side. Hayley slowly circled the weakened boy, her eyes curiously studying Alex's physicality. He spit at her feet, staining the ground and part of her shoes with the crimson liquid dripping from his lips. Without warning, she delivered a swift kick to his side at the act of defiance and Alex coughed more furiously this time. The amount of speckled red spots appearing on the floor and all over himself were severely worrying me.

I could see the fight in his eyes start to waver with his consciousness. Hayley looked satisfied with the wildly blinking Alex and made her way back over to me. She reached the table and set her elbows down on its surface, placing her chin in the palm of both hands. The width of the table kept me a few feet from the traitor. All I wanted to do was smack the shit out of her, maybe even tie her up in a basement and torture her until she screamed for mercy. I had never felt the kind of rage toward another human being that I did toward her in that moment.

"Aw, Jacky. Aren't you going to do anything?" she cooed. My teeth grinded against each other, furious heart rate speeding up with every second as my chest tightened. "You're just gonna sit there and let me beat up your boyfriend?" she asked. The comment snapped something in me and I lurched forward, only to be held back by the length of chain connected to my cuffs. I jerked around, pulling and rattling them in an attempt to get closer. "My, I guess you really don't care all that much," she shrugged apathetically.

She turned away, back facing me and trotting over to the other side of the room. Her fingers delicately picked up a long, spotless blade with a handle at one end. As she stepped closer to Alex there was a heat that surged through my body, pulsing with the rhythm of my heart. I could feel it sneaking its way into my veins and overwhelming everything in me with fire. It came on so quickly and suddenly that I didn't have time to process what was going on until it was happening.

I had only experienced this twice before: the day Peter had shown up, and the day they attacked Alex when we were captive in the facility. Back then it was simply the connection to the electricity in the walls, the exploding of light bulbs and lamps. This was vastly different though; the same anger, the same emotions, but much more intense. It was like I was absorbing all the friction in the air and injecting it directly into my bloodstream.