𝖰𝗎𝗂𝗋𝗄: 𝙂𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡

47?

You woke once again to the feeling of chains around your wrists and ankles.

Jack had come in to wake you up, unchain you, and give you the clothes he preferred you to wear.

"Why the gloves?" You wondered, picking up the unusual black fabric.

"Do you want to blow your cover with the scars on your wrists or your missing fingers?"

"Oh. I guess not..."

You looked down at your hands, still missing three fingers and trying your best to ignore the fact that your body was littered in scars.

You inspected the gloves a little better after Jack left, noticing a couple crucial things...

The material was quite heavy duty, usually used for gripping some type of weapon... and

They were fingerless.

'Is Jack a dumbass or what?' You scoffed, thinking about how important it was to "cover your fingers" two minutes ago.

You slipped on the white and grey uniform Jack had thrown at you, along with a pair of black colored leggings you knew weren't apart of the uniform.

You knew your body was littered in scars, you couldn't let a bunch of mundanes who wouldn't understand see a single one.

You sighed and threw on your grey blazer, making sure your gloves and sleeves could cover your arms well enough.

You sighed at the sight of your black fingernails,

"Everyone's gonna think I'm emo..."

—————————~~—————————

You began cautiously walking to that green metal door at the front of your cell.

For years you had been so desperate to even reach the door, and now here you were, opening it.

Memories of you covered in your own blood, sweat and tears appeared before your eyes, letting you never forget the ways you tried to escape.

You held your hand out slightly in front of you, slowly coming closer and closer to connecting with the rusty metal.

You would remember this moment.

You were always going to remember your fingertips glazing over the cool surface, and finally pulling the metal handle open to reveal a bright hallway.

You placed your hand over your eyes, trying to get adjusted to the lights in the dim-lit building.

The moment you stepped outside your cell, you noticed an odd man standing against the wall across from you—he looked as if he was waiting for you.

You quickly inferred that he was the guard so highly spoken of from the gun holster on his side and the metal poking out of his right pocket.

He was dressed in complete black, but you noticed the slight bulge around his torso—probably a vest of some sort, in case your quirk got out of hand.