The Package: Incarceration

Darkness: not the soothing and cradling darkness of restful nights or the calm and mysterious darkness of a slumbering city. No, this was the cold and fearful darkness of the mind; a horrifying stew of sweat, adrenaline, and phobic thoughts that keep the heart pounding even in the deepest of sleep. Consciousness, normally a luxury, was a cruel gnawing at the back of Adrian's head, filling his body and mind with uncomfortable sensations and a pulsing reminder that he was in pain.

For a long moment, Adrian's head lolled about and he swam in the visions of his darkest memories and dreams. Pain, however, continued to tug at his hands and back. It was a life line to reality and consciousness that proved to finally pull him from the dark waters of his subconscious.

“LAURA!”

Adrian's shout was like that of a mad man and he leaned forward in his seat, eyes flying open. When his mind finally caught up with the sudden action, Adrian recoiled and buttoned his eyes shut against the light that shone on his face. His hands were bound behind his back and his legs were fashioned to the metal chair legs.
Golden eyes squinted at the light and Adrian groaned slightly with a curl of his lip.

“You're quite the sleeper.”

Adrian sucked in a breath at the voice and drew every muscle in his body tense in rage, drawing a high creaking sound from the ropes as they yanked taut. It didn't matter who the voice belonged to: Adrian wanted to rip his head off. Everything flooded back to the young man now, the stinging pain in his back as he hit the pavement.

“Where have you taken me?" Adrian responded sharply.

Only a patronizing laugh came in response and Adrian's brow furrowed harder, were that even possible.

“You'll find out soon.”

The figured stepped closer and Adrian lowered his eyes in a futile attempt to view his captor through the curtain of light. Acute senses picked up on the fact that this figure was still moving, though no longer forward and Adrian's furrowed brow turned up slowly in question. Maybe more shocking than waking up to the light in his face was now its absence. A temporary blindness in the form of dark colors and shapes gave Adrian no better of an image of his captor than prior. The captive cursed under his breath.

“Make up your god damned mind.”

“You know, I'm impressed with you. To think that a mere mutant-”

Adrian hissed loudly from his throat and he bare his blade like teeth.

“Metahuman! Get it right...”

“Of course.”

The voice responded with what one might call an audible eye roll.

“This is the point where I am supposed to say something quirky and intelligent that makes you angrier, right? Respond in a toying manner to manipulate you into the set of emotions I want you in. Torture you in every possible way to get the answers to questions I have not even yet asked, right?”

Adrian's head slowly cocked to the side as his captor spoke. The voice caused ire in Adrian that was more subtle than a mosquito bite and teased at his senses in a way that was most unpleasant.

“When was the last time you had a psychiatric exam?”

Adrian said through a weird look to mask his quivering spine.

“Last Thursday.”

Adrian's eyebrow crawled up his forehead.

“You know what they told me?”

Adrian blinked a bit and the image before him began to take shape in his returning sight. The narrow face and elongated jaw was masculine, with a matching neck. A tall forehead and short hair that looked to be a mess of spikes and stray hairs characterized the man before him.

“They told me I was unstable”

Adrian swallowed and shifted uncomfortably. A cold and metallic hand grasped Adrian's knee and he looked down through the corners of his eyes; the lusty surface of the arm glimmering in his hazy vision



“They said I was-”

The voice paused, and Adrian just stared for a moment at the face that came into view: scarred and wide eyed with a madness buried deep within.

“- unfit! Do you think I'm unfit?”

The figure leaned closer and Adrian remained silent as dread crept slowly over his scalp in the form of goose bumps.

“Do you?”

The figure asked again with intention of getting an answer and squeezed hard on Adrian's knee. In an effort to stomach the pain, Adrian's lips curled in a belligerent sneer and his fingers curled hard into his palms.

“Stubborn I see.”

The voice said with a playful tone, leaning back a bit and finally taking his iron grip away from Adrian's now battered knee. Adrian silently made a face at the interrogators back and let his relief flow a bit until the man turned to face him again. Before the young man could react in any way, the interrogator slammed a pointed metal finger and thumb into Adrian's thigh.

“You think I'm unfit too!”

The interrogator accused him. Adrian attempted to gasp in pain as the hydraulically-driven metal fingers pressed hard against his flesh.. Adrian's face grew hard against the pain, a facade that only lasted a moment until pressure grew and the bladed digits tore through his skin and flesh until lodged deep within his muscle.

“You're just like them.”

Another finger slammed into his skin and penetrated instantly into the inner muscle. Adrian fought to keep himself under control despite the worsening situation.

“You think that I'm dangerous too.”

Adrian found his breath in a sharp intake as a fourth finger tore through his skin and flesh. The steely fingers sunk deeper and made a horrible grinding against his bone and cartilage. Arms, legs and body squirmed under the pain and wanted to cry out, but his lungs would not allow. A single tear streamed down his cheek and Adrian felt hopeless.

Maybe it was that very moment of hopelessness that drove Adrian's concerns and weaknesses away, but as the moment's pressed by, the pain in his leg faded from conscious thought and all emotions and sensations siphoned into one singular emotion.

Rage.

Teeth met like old enemies and Adrian screamed out through them.

“I... hate...”

Adrian tensed every muscle in his body and drew only more pain but used it to fuel the rage that boiled in his blood. Pupils shrunk to paper thin slits as he arched his back and pulled against his restraints.

Snap!

A heavy boot came up from Adrian's left and found purchase in his foes kneecap with a disgusting crack. Fingers withdrew from his flesh and Adrian kicked his free foot down on an angle, causing a small blade to draw out from the side of his boot.

In a flash, his other leg was free and with a sickening pop, Adrian brought his arms over his head, shoulder's dislocating with fluid ease. The chair came with his bound hands and Adrian swung it downwards at the captor. Adrian's elbows jarred as the chair stopped, held firm by the bloodied and cold mechanical grip.

“You never even asked me my name.”

The figure pouted.

“Jericho!”

Adrian felt his body wrench sideways and, with a frightened glance, realized he was about to meet the wall. The chair bent and flexed under the sheer pressure of the throw and Adrian winced as pain shot out from his back to all reaches of his body. The air from his lungs came out in a single powerful blast and for a moment he could not inhale.

Shell shock was the only word that came to Adrian's mind. His thoughts swam and his vision wavered under the looming cloud that threatened to throw the metahuman into unconsciousness again. Pain and feeling filtered away and for a long, silent moment that felt eternal, Adrian could only hear the steady rise and fall of his breath. Vision readjusted and a groan escaped his lips as Adrian looked up to where Jericho had been standing.

A hand slammed palm first into his chest, only this time the hand was warm and soft, though one might not consider bones soft. It forced Adrian's back into the wall once more and his senses rushed back to him as he stared directly into the mad face that was Jericho.

“When I was asked to come here, I couldn't really say no. Five years of rotting in restraints, pills and liquids to keep me sane. How could I even resist the opportunity to feel the warmth of blood on my hands...”

Jericho licked a streak of blood clean from his claw-like hand and frowned.

“I only need one answer to get out of this hell hole. One answer that you can give me!”

Adrian's gold eyes peered up at Jericho's mad sneer.

“Where is it?! Where is the package?!”

Despite his quivering body, racked with pain, fatigue and shock, Adrian managed a bloodied smile that stretched slowly. His chest began to shake slightly and his shoulders jounced; laughter slowly overcame him until he began to sound hysterical.

“Hahahaha!”

With a free hand, Adrian pointed to his head, still laughing.

“It’s here!”

He exclaimed with a smile that was nearly a counter to Jericho's madness. Madness such as his, though, was far more dangerous. Jericho leaned closer and shook in anger, attempting to find the words to speak and make his captive understand and be afraid. Adrian opened his mouth to form another smile and turned it into a sneer as he leaned forward and snapped his teeth onto Jericho's nose.
Jericho's scream echoed through the circular room like a child's cry and with a frantic motion the mad man clawed at Adrian's chest with weak and unfocused strokes. A final hard strike by his mechanical arm threw Adrian back and released Jericho from the bladed grasp, though where the teeth sank in there lay two dotted lines of bloodied flesh and a taste of blood that Adrian would relish and remember.

Armed figures burst through the double doors to the room and leveled their weapons at Adrian, who was grinning with bloodied teeth. Jericho was sobbing like a child into his hands. Some of the soldiers glanced nervously at the mad-man and Adrian; it was obvious they had never seen such a frightening man weep.

“Restrain him!”

A voice came from behind the men. It was feminine and cool but, with a razor’s edge to follow the steely tone. Some soldiers moved forward to restrain Adrian and he did not resist although he did have trouble standing. The woman, who barked the order, was wearing a light variant of power armor and had a very mature, fine look to her face.

“Come to mama.”

She cooed at Jericho who shuffled in her direction and began to speak indecipherably through his sobbing. Adrian only stared with an inquisitive and demeaning gaze at the woman who now babied the obviously mad man-child. Her face was soft and motherly towards Jericho, but as soon as she turned toward Adrian, he thought his blood might run cold from the gaze she gave him.

Who are you?

Adrian asked himself, his gaze never leaving her as he was guided out of the room. Even when the doors were closed, his gaze bore into it and begged it for answers until a soldier jabbed at him with the butt of a gun to face him forward.