Random Fight Scenes

Darker and Darker

This is based on The Darkest Minds, a book series and a movie. I love it!

Liz never knew her family, as the moment she'd been born, she was taken away, not by anything bad, but because her parents were seemed unfit to care for a child. They were 17 and 18.

She grew up in the foster care system, and was incredibly lucky to be adopted before her fifth birthday. She didn't quite understand the implications, but she was five, how could she?

Only six years later did the outbreak occur. Liz, being eleven, didn't know why it was such a big deal that fewer and fewer of her friends came to school. She tried calling, sure, but it didn't end well.

Her mother quarantined her in her room for a week. She had a feeling she knew why at this point.

Liz, being the trooper she was, trucked through the virus, and everything was thought fine. IAAN didn't kill her. She lived!

When her parents finally removed her from her room, they seemed even more scared she'd lived. You see, children who survived the virus came out changed. Drastically.

Liz didn't hurt anyone; she was lucky not to, with her ability. But she terrified her parents.

They weren't scared enough to send her away to those camps, but they were found out by the neighbors, and so Liz was taken.

When she arrived to the camp, the people messed with her. They poked and prodded, they put sticky things on her head, they kept her guarded, but not for her own safety.

When they were done, they'd seemed to treat her even worse, shoving her forcefully into a red jumpsuit. She expected to be walked away like the kids in blue or green, but she wasn't.

She was brought down to a bunker of sorts, with other kids dressed in red. They were Reds. The rarest of the rare.

The day ended, and they were all put on a bus, with soldiers all around them. No getting out of this one.

Liz was amazed at the structure before her; it was a massive bunker! Maybe, since they were rarer, they'd be treated better!

If only she knew.

The Reds were treated worst of all. After all, pyrokinetics are dangerous.

For the next five years, Liz stayed in that facility, never leaving or breaking her routine. How could she? She'd be shot on sight.

Liz had been defeated. She'd never escape, so she might as well help, right? She became cooperative, no longer avoiding the needles or shackles.

They didn't stop their abuse, however, regularly taking her somewhere secluded and beating her to make sure she knew who was in charge. She never fought back. She knew.

Liz was ushered onto the same sterile bed, the doctor had three guards in the room, always, as she approached the sixteen year old, grabbing her wrist and jabbing a needle in. Deadener.

Liz was somewhat grateful for the small change; her doctor was normally an old, fat guy, who seemed to stare at her for too long as he did his procedures, so the woman with the soft gaze was nice. Not that Liz really cared. The woman would be gone by tomorrow.

She glanced down at the needle; it was red this time. Must be a new dose they developed.

When the poking and prodding was done, Liz stood, ready to leave as the shackles were put on her.

"Oh, one more thing. Pardon me." The doctor shuffled over, seemingly inspecting Liz's face. She didn't like this.

But then she felt something prod her hand, and so she opened in. She always had them in fists to avoid fingers being broken.