mette thinks you're a liar, liar, pants on fire. (lyve) wrote in invol_rpg, @ 2013-01-02 07:38:00
narrative. WHO: Mette Skoglund & kidnappers. WHAT: Her turn. WHEN: A while after Padraig was taken. Late night of the 1st into early morning of the 2nd. WHERE: The European cell.
And then there was one.
Two by two they’ve been led away, yanked out through the door while a stifled cry dies in her throat. She knows what will happen next. It’s been regular as clockwork: one abduction per day (does it count as abduction when you’re already kidnapped?), whittling down their numbers until she is the only one left. And Mette knows what will happen next: they will come in while she's sleeping; they will drag her up from her cot; pull her through the door; they will be carrying guns; they will bring her to wherever vols go to die. Because her friends must be dead by now, she thinks. None of them have returned. And what other possible reason could they have to separate them?
The next part is very important. They’re going to take you.
Except that they don’t. Not with Padraig and Myra, at least; they save the Norwegian for last, for no reason that she can intuit. Two by two, they have taken every single one of her friends (she can call them that now, she thinks) without a word, leaving only Mette shaking and sitting in the corner, her spine pressed into the wall as far back as she can go, staring at the door and knowing that she will not sleep tonight. Because tomorrow they will come.
With Myra gone, her power must be back.
Without another human being nearby, it’s useless.
The next part is very important.
She’s been trained fairly well in Wolfe’s sessions. She’s in much better shape than when she entered IVI. But nothing stands against men with guns, and she knows that she can’t escape them when they come.
Which they will. Tomorrow.
Mette could fight, probably: press her thumbs into their eye sockets and rip their sight from them. Try to force them into planting a bullet in her temple. Because the waiting has been too much, and not knowing what lies beyond that door is too much – part of her suspects she’ll simply die of fright, a rabbit with a heart attack, keeling dead from sheer terror. Even while the minutes and hours drag on and she wipes her face with the sleeve of one grimy coverall, she cannot stand the idea of seeing what lies beyond that door.
It feels like nothing lies beyond that door. Nothing but emptiness. You are taken out, and you cease to exist.
She doesn’t mean to sleep (because tomorrow they will come) and even endeavours to keep her eyes open for as long as possible between blinks – but somewhere along the way, Mette Skoglund must have dozed off with her head tilted back against the cement wall.
Because she wakes up to them dragging her from her corner; they pull her through the door while she screams; they are carrying guns.
Half-wild with hysteria, her limbs flailing and bucking wildly (because there is no one left and no one to save her, she knows this now), Mette tries to grab at the doorframe and hang on, irrationally struggling to yank herself back into the cell. Her hands catch on the metallic studs in the frame; one of her nails rips and tears down to the root. She leaves a smeared, bloody handprint on the doorjamb and a stifled cry in her throat.