Who: Laura Kinney Where: Skeleton Crew HQ. When: 4/13 @ Night. [backdate] What: Laura progress. Rating: R (violence, death, torture, & drug use)
It hadn't taken them long to figure it out. Laura was a mutant. They didn't know everything, but they knew she could heal real fast. They'd tried to dope her up and despite her attempt at looking like she was under the influence of the sedative, she was clearly alert. Somehow, this made them more bold instead of wary. That was their mistake.
For weeks, she did as she was told. She endured familiar tortures and even cried, but never screamed. Maybe they would have gotten tired of her quicker if she had. Instead, she found herself taken to different places and events. She ended up an ornament at different meetings. That was easy. She had no issues with being quiet, but it was only over the last week that she got a good idea of the size of the operation. She was beginning to feel that every injury she suffered had been worth it. The hardest part was watching the other girls slowly disappear. At least, she knew where some of them were going. She had been biding her time, waiting for the right moment. This was only one part of the problem.
The Skeleton Crew was simply the supplier. Like any other business they had rivals. They just happened to have the most efficient process with the best quality product. If what they were doing didn't infuriate her, she would have been impressed.
She was running out of data to collect. It was time to shut down it down. She was going to accomplish this from the inside out. She learned a lot about the top four members in the past month. She had learned even more about their lackeys. It wasn't hard to plant the seeds of dissent. They seemed to take her empty and detached tone as one of truth.
It had been a while since she'd used the aspect of her training that dealt with manipulation. It came easier now. Now that she'd explored her feelings and could emphasize with people and understand their motivations and shortcomings. Laura figured out what to say and just how to say it. The most convenient part of it was that no one appeared to mention that she was the one who passed the information along.
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She wasn't wearing much as she sat up in the bed. Her bedmate was sleeping sound, blanketed in a false sense of security. She crawled on top of him and picked up her pillow. A moment later, it was shoved over his face. He flailed and attempted to push her off, but she held fast. He scratched and bruised her, but she continued until he stopped moving. His heart was slowing. She could feel it and he wasn't trying to gasp anymore. His limp body laid beneath her, but she didn't lift the pillow just yet.
She had to wait for his heart to stop.
When it did, she raised the pillow and placed it back in it's place. She moved his body a little, positioning it peacefully before she slid back down into the sheets and waited for sleep to come. Tomorrow morning they'd find her there with him. It was only a matter of time before they were at each other's throats for his share of the profit.