Prisoner

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

I was a really fucked up kid growing up.

Aside from picking fights with people twice my size, I was actually a scrawny little shit, downright fucking effeminate. The other kids thought I was a girl for the first four fucking years of my life. It took me years to get them to look at me with some modicum of respect. During those first few years, I did everything I could to get people to look at me the way I wanted them to; strong, confident, powerful, dangerous. I picked fights with the older kids all the time, and that seemed to pique the interest of my peers. So I kept at it.

In no time, I was getting exactly what I wanted. Respect. Fear. Inspiration. That shit was like a drug.

At least, until the Mother decided it was time to do something about my body. After all, I may have been the strongest, but I didn't look it. I was still smaller than the other kids, still skinnier, and despite all those fights, I was still weaker. The only thing that separated me from the other kids was my determination to fuck shit up.

The Mother liked that. She liked how committed I was. She liked to see me start those fights. I know she did, because she chose me to experiment with. Not in the same way she did Seven. No, that kid got the short end of the stick when it came to experiments, but me? I won the motherfucking lottery.

I got what she called ichor, after the supposed gold blood that ran through the veins of the Greek gods. It was a twice daily shot to my fucking ass that revved my engine like nothing else could. Even caffeine took a backseat to this shit. Whatever it was, it fired me up. I went from working out twice a day to almost the entire day. I went from a tiny scrawny brat to beefed up in a matter of months. I had become twice the size of my peers, twice as strong, twice as deadly.

I was on top of the fucking world.

Even the side effects weren't exactly the worst. I could handle not wanting to have sex, I could handle the headaches. Anything to make me what I wanted to be. Anything to make me stronger.

Gods, those were the days.

I was everything and more.

But the moment I woke up, I knew something was wrong. The headache was extreme. My muscle mass had diminished. I was almost skeletal, muscles atrophied into nothing. I was once again small and weak. And I knew I was weak because I woke up chained to a stone wall... And...

What happened after that?

What happened between the moment I was captured to this?

Of course, the next time I woke up in that heavily decorated shitshow, I was sedated. I could tell because I felt heavy and sluggish and tired, but not enough to go back to sleep. I woke up in that same thick comfortable bed, once more hooked up to numerous machines. Only this time, I was restrained. Some kind of soft restraints were wrapped around my wrists and connected to the sides of the bed.

Confused as shit, I moved my arms a little, the chains jingling. The sound was some kind of trigger because I found myself breathless as I heard the chains jingle again. I blinked rapidly, sucking in deep gulps of air as I jerked at the restraints again, harder this time.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice said. I jerked my head up to see the blonde male, what was his name? Lucy? He came into the room, carrying a small silver tray with some kind of drink on it and nothing more. I guess I didn't get to have cookies and brownies after beating the shit out of them.

Beating the shit out of them. Yeah. That's what I did. Definitely didn't fall on my fucking ass six times in a row.

"What are you going to do," I sneered at him, "Kill me if I keep trying?" Lucy looked at me.