The Doorway: NPC Account (doorwaynpc) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2014-08-22 10:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, !max dillon / electro |
Who: Max Dillon & ???
When: Early afternoon, Today
Where: Ravencroft
What: After lifted from Ravencroft by a mysterious man in black, Electro prepares for his revenge against the company that made him: Stark Industries.
Rating: PG-23 -- mention of murder, threats of violence.
At Ravencroft, the line was thin between experimentation and torture. Max was strapped to metal framework, submerged in water, poked and prodded. Dr. Kafta pressed hard to see what he was capable of, refuses to let Dillon rest, or recharge. They barely let him eat, he was only permitted to sleep when the doctors themselves were absent, which felt like just the minutes between shift changes. He was weak, worn down, and angry. Just so unbelievably angry. How could Spider-Man have let this happen to him. They were supposed to be friends, best friends, but where was he now. Why wasn’t he trying to help him; save him? Why wasn’t he there for Max now that Max needed him the most? He’d never meant to hurt anyone, he just wanted to show people who he was -- he liked it when they looked at him for a change, when they finally noticed him and paid attention. It was a good feeling. But it wasn’t one that lasted. Because now he had it, now he had doctors pouring over him, talking to him and paying attention to him every minute, but they didn’t care. Their words were hollow and their actions painful, and all he wanted to was go home, go anywhere, and rest. He wasn’t even thinking about revenge, not really. He was angry in that deep, unobservable way. Like infrared light, invisible to everyone to burning hot and unrelenting. An undercurrent of rage, just beneath the surface of his broken spirit, his tired body. What would getting angry do for him now, no one liked him, no one cared about him, no one thought he mattered. Submerged under water, he didn’t hear the gun go off, but he felt the vibrations, and he lifted his head away from the tube that fed him air. He shook against his restraints, trying half-heartedly to break free from his bonds but it was no use, there was nowhere for him to go. He was stuck down there, beneath the water. He couldn’t really sleep down there, because he had to focus on getting air and the temperature was far too cold for him to be at all comfortable. He opened his eyes to try and make something out in the blurry, old water of the tank. He noticed nothing -- nothing at all until something was thrown into the water with him. Something large and leaking red into the water. It was one of his doctors, he didn’t know which one, but he could see the white lab coat, through the clouds of blood that seeped from his chest. Max pulled harder at his restraints, trying to get away from the dead man who floated so close by, but there was nothing he could. In his panic, he stopped breathing, and now he couldn’t find the tube in the water in front of him because he refused to open his eyes to the horror at his left. This was it, he was going to die down here in this tank and not know why, and he’d never done anything to deserve it, he’d never even been somebody. He was no one, he’d die no one. But just then, the machinery that he was strapped to kicked to life, lifting him from the murky water and granting him much. much needed fresh air without the chemicals and filters that the oxygen he was forced to breath beneath the surface. He sputtered and coughed, trying to shake the water off his face so he could focus on the man in front of him holding the controls. “Hello, Max.” He said, his voice calm. Dillon could see the gun in his hand, held loosely at his side and he craned his neck to see if the doctor in the water was Kafta or not, he wasn’t sure. A part of him hoped it was though, because of all the staff here, he’d be the happiest if that one was drown in the tank that he’d build. It seemed nice, almost. “I’ve come to set you free.” He raised his arm and pointed the gun at Max’s chest, pulling back the hammer. “You can choose, right now, how that happens Max. I could put a bullet in your throat, put you back in the water, or let you out of here, if you do something for me.” As Max looked down the barrel of the gun, the lights in the facility flickered. He narrowed his pale blue eyes. “What do you want?” “I promise, Max. It’s something we both want.” The lights, responding to Dillon, started to get brighter, burn hotter, and as the water on Max’s face stopped dripping in his eyes and the room was light enough that he could look past the gun and at the face of the man holding it, he stopped pulling against his restraints for one stunned second. “You -- You’re -- I thought you were dead.” |