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Silence In Solitary; (One-Shot)
Topic Started: May 30 2009, 04:53 PM (190 Views)
Saint
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Hypnosis / Psionic Bolts
Date: April 8th
Time: 22:45



thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen....

When the prisoners were all shuffled back to their cells, there wasn't much to do other than to think. Meditating, counting, reminscing, imagining and plotting were all things that Saint had done in the months that he had been incarcenarated as Prisoner 199. With so much spare time on your hands, you just had yourself to talk too. Well the other inmate he could see through the glass were there but Kyle had soon realised that there wasn't that much conversation to be had with them. If you didn't look mutated, the Gene Nation people didn't give a flying fuck about you unless they needed extra numbers.

But that night, a strange atmosphere was over the prison, one of a bubbling intensity. The stabbing and near riot that had happened the night before was waying on everyones minds, that outside their prison there was all those disasters going on, and the "Horsemen" that had been described briefly on the news that they had heard. For the first time in his life, Saint was regretting one of Magneto's requests. Laying on the hard bed and turning around so he was facing the wall, the young Acolyte didn't care at all who was watching him anymore. Privacy was something that you learnt to lose quickly when you are always being watched.

fifty-two, fifty-three, fifty-four, fifty-five....

CAGE was changing him and not just physically. While a few months back, he had been so confident, bordering on arrogance in his abilities and powers, being without them had been like living as a cripple. The amount of times that he had forgotten and tried to make a blade or whisper a suggestion had been too many to count. Now he almost hung back, unwilling to get too involved when he used to dive head first into helping a fellow mutant.

But there was no Brotherhood in this prison. The small gangs only cared for themselves and if you didn't make friends with some of the major players, you wouldn't last long.If all the groups had just worked together, they could of overpowered the guards and destroyed the generators that powered the nullifiers. But it was near hopeless. You came up with a scheme like that without strong suport, you would be ostracised. And then the wolves would start circling you, like an injured lamb strayed from the flock and rip you to shreds, bones, organs, flesh and all. But that was if you were lucky. Ending up in the mental wing trying to kill yourself by running head first into a wall was a fate that Kyle was keen to avoid.

seventy-eight, seventy-nine, eighty, eighty-one....

These mutants betrayed the dream of Supremecy, a world where mutants would live in peace. Gene Nation were just racist towards each other, regardless that they all shared the x-gene that made them worth fighting for, those pyscho's of the LD50's were no better outside anyone who didn't qualify for their group. The Sayans, well they were the best out of a bad bunch, but they were still lacking unity with the other gangs. Everyone turned on each other, just like humans.

Now here he was with bruises all over his body from the riot and not a lot else to show for himself. Paranoid and surrounded by people that he was actually scared of. It was a funny thing, fear. That tiny little hand that rips at your stomach and then proceeds to flood your stomach like an ice-cube melting. Saint had only ever feared one person but now he could probably add another name to that list. Even in his cell he could feel the freaks dirty stare over his body, eyeing him up like a hunk of meat to devour and not in the fun sexy way. No, Saint was sure that if he didn't get out of CAGE soon, he would be a hollow shell of what he was. Was this all that he had managed to do in two decades of his life, was to wind up in a cell with no real way to get out other than a vague plan?

The Acolyte remained prone on the bed as the footsteps of guards were heard making their way past, checking on prisoners, enjoying their little bit of sadistic fun that those humans did. He turned to the wall and kept counting, always counting till the day he would get out and rejoin the Brotherhood. He was sure that they would survive the disasters that were going on and be just as strong when he got out. The British mutant did not know that he had lost several team-mates in the conflict, to the grim reaper or conversion. But it was an idea to keep going for. He was a member of the Brotherhood, an Acolyte and firstly a mutant. No matter how hard life got, he wouldn't forget that. But it sometimes seemed that he was the only one in here that thought that.

ninety-eight, nighty-nine, one-hundred.....
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