After Angel and I were arrested we were separated. The FBI was way too curious about me. Due to the fact I was born into a dimension of darkness rather than the one everyone else lives in I never had a social security card or a birth certificate. I don't exist according to every country on Earth. The government automatically suspects something when they can find zero information on a person. The FBI interrogated me for nine hours before they were stopped. They lost jurisdiction to some government agency that supposedly doesn't exist. An agency so unknown that no name for it was ever given to me. Next thing I knew I had a bag over my head, a needle in my arm, and woke up here. I haven't been out of this room since. They used to come in and interrogate me. I'm not sure how long ago that stopped. I don't think they intend ever let me out. The government fears the unknown. I'm unknown.
So what have I done with my time? The endless hours of sitting here chained to a featureless wall? The same thing I did on the outside...struggling with the monster inside me. The main difference is in here there's no hope. No right or wrong. Just me and it. I held out for the first couple of weeks. I tried so hard to keep control of it. To maintain my humanity. I whined inside of my mind and felt the tears stream down my face. Self pity and doubt filled me. Yet I endured as best I could. The monster gained strength every day. The only thing I had to tie me to the outside world was a note from Angel saying he'd get me out. I'd hoped it was enough. It wasn't. At one point I clawed up one of my own arms with my fingernails. I needed some sort of stimulation just to let me know I existed still. That I wasn't floating through some abstract void. Even then I tried to keep to my morals and ideals. To my humanity. I clung to it like a crutch. Then one day they came to my cell again. This time they tortured me. I was shocked, half-drowned, beaten, and whipped. By the end of it I could feel my humanity slip. All the pathetic emotions I clung too oozed from me as if my body rejected it. The monster had won....and I was glad. My tears dried up and disappeared. Though my body was broken and a piece of myself was lost I laughed. The monster laughed. We were one. I killed two of my torturers that day. It was the last time they entered the cell.
I thought that would be the last I'd ever see another person again. Till now. The door opens. A needle is thrust in my arm and a bag and shoved over my head. I struggle against a group of men, but my strength leaves me as everything in the world distorts. I wake up in the back seat of an SUV. I can smell gun oil all around me. I've definitely got weapons trained on me. I have no clue where I'm being taken. I figure if they were going to kill me they would have done it back where I was. I'm scared about what's coming, but at the same time I can feel excitement buzzing in the back of my mind. This could be the only chance I ever get to escape. I'm not going to waste it. If I don't get free from them before I'm locked down again I may never get free. My mind races through a few differnt plans for escape. I feel a tug on my restrained arm. Then an unfamiliar voice fills my ears.)
Don't try anything and you might live through this.
(Damn. She must have heard the change in my breathing after I came to. Guess I can try to get some answers. Though I have a feeling any questions I have will be answered with the butt of a rifle.)
Only might? Where are we going?
(There's a note of disgust in her voice as she sighs and speaks again. Her teeth are gritted together.)
That all depends on your mother. Now shut up.
(My mother?! What does she have to do with this? She's a hateful bitch if there ever was one, but there's no way she'd sell me out to these people. It's too beneath her...or is it? She did trade me for her life to that thing in the darkness dimension back when I was born afterall. Still, that can't be it. I can't see the government getting her at enough of a disadvantage for her to trade me off. They didn't even know she was alive. Fine. I'll do as this angry woman says and keep quiet...for now. We drive for what seems like forever and finally come to a stop. A door opens and I'm dragged into the open air. I breathe in deeply. This is the first time since I became a captive that I've breathed fresh air. It's intoxicating. It tastes and smells like freedom. Just gotta get away now. A gun presses against my spine before the bag on my head is pulled off. My vision is very blurry. It's either the drugs they used or the fact I've been in darkness for weeks or months. I see a red and black outline that looks familiar. Then a voice I know all too well speaks.)
I see you've done as requested. Very smart. Let's hope for the sake of your families you haven't tried to do anything sneaky. I'm sure you don't want to receive anymore pieces of your children in the mail, now do you?
(That's definitely my mother, Andrea Raven. The bitterness and hatred laced within her voice are unmistakable. Though I didn't think she'd sell me out to these people, I can't help but wonder why she is securing my freedom from them. I'm shoved from behind and told to get going. I don't hesitate. Soon I'm off to the side of my mother, facing towards her. She just motions with her arm for me to get in the car behind her. It's a well maintained Ferrari Testerosa. Mom has a thing for cars. Especially working on them. Especially Ferraris. Her most prized possession is an F-40 that has left her garage all of maybe once. I climb in and watch as she tosses an envelope to agents.)
Open it up. Inside you'll find the location of your families. Be thankful I'm in a forgiving mood. Never cross me again.
(They don't try to take her down. They can't trust that their families will stay alive if she dies. Of course they can't trust they are alive now, but they can't take the risk. She climbs in the car next to me, puts it in gear, and we are out of there. My vision starts to clear. I look at up at crimson hair that flows freely from my mother's head. Then as always I find myself drawn to her monstrous eyes. They are bitch black and filled with a bitter strength shaped through decades of hatred. Their power is a preview of the power within her. The sickness and hatred contained within them makes me feel shriveled in her presence. My father's are even more imposing. She is completely silent. Guess that's not going to change. At least I have a break from her calling "whelp". As I look her over I notice dark bruising around one of her eyes and cheek bone. I'm going to regret this but I can't help myself.)
What happened to your face?
(I could have phrased that better. She turns her head partially to look me over with disdain.)
You're welcome whelp. Don't you wanna ask me why I saved you or thank me or something?
(Well at least she didn't expect me to be sentimental. Of course, how could she? I've barely known either of my parents and she and I don't get along. She'd kill me without hesitation if the mood struck her. I relent.)
Hey, I'm thankful you got me out of there. I'm just surprised is all. Did you get those bruises while trying to get me out?
(I wait to be struck by her, but the blow never comes. Instead she just sighs and looks back at the road as we travel down it at high speeds.)
Before actually. Your father and I had a discussion about saving you. I saw his point. Thank him. I might have left you there otherwise...