So first the Friends of Humanity, then the Reavers. I was just making all kinds of nifty new friends since becoming a mutant.
Honestly, I would have much rather dealt with the first than the second. Both would kill you, but I came to find out that one was much nastier about it than the other.
I don't remember how long they had me for. Aside from not knowing how long I had been out of it to begin with, being in pain for most of the time sort of affected my ability to accurately notice the passing of time. The sadistic fucks didn't even bother to sedate me.
I felt weak. Weaker than I should have, even with the constant lights shining on me. It wasn't a great experience.
Every so often, the guy in charge would come and just look at me. There was always a combination of satisfaction and disdain on his face whenever he did.
One time he got close to me to reach out and grab my chin, trying to turn my head and look at my eyes or something. He got bit for that, which wasn't a smart thing for me to do for more than one reason. It felt like trying to bite a roll of quarters.
He immediately punched me.
I didn't expect someone dressed as well as him to hit that hard, even with me stuck to a vertical table. I could feel my cheek swell up immediately over my left eye.
Pierce flexed the fingers of his metal hand directly in my line of sight, making sure I knew what I was looking at, "If that's all the fight you have left in the next generation of mutants, you and your fellow abominations you call peers will be the last."
"Screw you. Calling me a freak," I gasped, feeling my own blood run down my face, "You're the one with metal arms like Jax from Mortal Kombat."
"Not just metal arms, boy," Pierce said pacing in front of me and gesturing to his surroundings, "You see, this is the true next stage of human development. Using technology to improve on the imperfections and weaknesses that nature cursed us with, instead of relying on the blight on the human genome that is mutantkind."
It was hard to get used to the idea of someone hating everything about you without ever interacting with you. If you weren't taught to expect it from a very young age, it was an adjustment period that took some time to stop being startled by.
Five weeks wasn't enough time to get accustomed to that sort of thing, especially when you had been isolated at a school full of other mutants for that entire stretch of time – away from the sorts of people who wished the worst for you.
"The truth behind the events at Genosha opened my eyes to something," Pierce continued to say. The man certainly liked to talk, "You mutants are the best possible weapon that can be used against yourselves, or at least there are facets of you all that can be used to the advantage of mankind."
"Is that why I'm here?" I spat blood on his nice, clean looking shoes. After all, what was he going to do at this point? Beat me? Torture me? It was kind of late for that, "You're looking for something that you can use as a weapon?"
"I've already found it," He said, giving me that look that promised nothing but pain in my near future, "I already know how I'm going to use it."
I was the 'it'. Somehow, someway, there was something about me in particular that he was interested in. Something that I could do for him. Lucky me.
"How much do you know about me?" I asked, shifting against my bonds. I let out a cry of pain at the wires connected to my nerves jostling and causing me further harm, "How did you even get that much information?"
Seriously. Even if he had been keeping tabs on the school somehow, as far as students went, I was brand new. My own classmates didn't even remember my name most of the time and had to be refreshed on my powers every so often.
Besides, I was still finding out how all of my stuff worked. While it was unlikely, the thought that this guy knew more about me than I did, or that he would, was extremely irksome.
He walked over to a monitor, presumably hooked up to me that was telling him… something. I don't know, "Your body has managed to do something that decades of science has barely been able to do," He said bitterly, "To your system, light is an effective, renewable resource. Cheap. Clean. Did you know that you don't even need to eat to survive?"
No, I didn't. Now that he mentioned it though, it didn't seem to matter how long it had been since my last meal. I never felt anything worse than particularly peckish. Even then. And I had no idea how long I'd been there for.
"Your power reminds me a lot of someone else's," The metal-armed prick patted my bloody face condescendingly, "Another one of you mutants that I'm going to kill... once the time comes, of course."
I wanted to say not to get too far ahead of himself, but then again, given the situation, I really didn't have a lot of room to say much of anything other than, 'Please, don't.'
"We're going to figure out what makes you so unique, and use it to enhance our cyborg designs in the future," Pierce said, "For all the advancement science has seen in solar energy for uses in various circumstances, we're still having trouble adjusting that to the field of human cybernetics. You are the key."
I could only think of one way my mutation could actually upgrade his designs to the point that it would be worthwhile, but it was insane to think about, "You want to use me as a battery?"
Pierce palmed me in the forehead hard enough to leave me seeing stars, just to make sure I was looking at him and knew what awaited me, "No, I want to use you as a blueprint for a battery. One that can work inside of the human body and adequately power the augmented limbs and implants of my future force of Reavers."
Great. Whatever they were going to do to figure out how to duplicate the part of my physiology that processed light with technology was only the first part. From there, once they were sure what they were looking at, they wouldn't need me in one piece anymore.
They would chop me up like a frog being dissected in biology class. It was the only way they could really see what they had to work with.
No wonder Pierce looked so pleased the entire time. I couldn't possibly make him angry. Anything I did and anything he would threaten me with in return would never be as bad as what he'd already had planned for me in the first place.
"So just lay back and relax," He said smoothly, "I hope you're comfortable. Your accommodations are more tailored to you personally than what we've set aside for your friend, but then again, hers are more temporary. As soon as we have the time-."
"What are you talking about?" I snapped at him. I hadn't been alone when I'd gotten jumped. I'd been taking Ruth back to the cafe and I never saw it coming when it happened. Of course it would have been too much to ask that she'd have managed to get away even if I was all they'd been after, "What are you going to do?"
"As far as mutants go, you two are close enough to humans that we can test things on you for ourselves."
He left the rest up to my imagination and walked away, leaving me to the 'tender' mercies of his technicians. But they were far too busy running data that they'd taken from me to care one way or another about my well-being, even if my face was still leaking red down onto my chest.
The longer I sat up there, looking around and waiting for something, anything to happen, the realer it all became.
Who was going to get me out? Who even knew we were gone? How were they going to even find us? If Ruth was here with me, was she okay?
"Ruth..." I tried to think out loud as hard as I could, "Ruth, can you... can you hear me?" I needed some kind of sign that she was alright. Her telepathy wasn't the most controlled, true, but I was throwing her a softball here, "Come on. Read my mind. Talk to me. Do... something. Anything. Just let me know you're alive."
She had to be alright. I didn't want to think about someone doing anything to her like what they were doing to me. But in the end, I didn't get any answer. My heart sank into my gut even further if that were possible.
I had to think of some way out. I couldn't count on someone coming to grab me or her. Whether the X-Men were coming or not, just being strapped to some stupid table hooked up to some machine wasn't going to help any rescue efforts.
All of these thoughts ran through my head, and quickly. They hadn't drugged me, the sick freaks. They probably wanted me to feel every moment of what they were doing to me, and I did. It was agonizing. The worst pain I'd ever felt up until that point. The pain that I compared all other pains to after it to from that moment on.
Eventually though, when it was all you felt for a long enough period of time, you got accustomed to it, in a way. Accustomed enough that you could start thinking about more than just how much everything hurt. Accustomed enough to start taking note of your surroundings. And when your life and freedom was on the line, you paid close attention to everything.
Just leaving me there and not drugging me, they gave the chance to think of something I could do. It left me aware of just how long I had left to come up with anything useful. I would know I was screwed when they started talking about how to start taking me apart. In the meantime, it was a good thing I had plenty of time.
All the time in the world.