Queen of the Hurricane; Storm (hurricaneborn) wrote in x_2012, @ 2010-12-04 20:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | storm |
Who: Storm OT Black Dog
Where: Undisclosed former Perfect Soldier Facility
When: Saturday Night
What: Storm is ready to go. In fact, she has been a while, but haste makes waste.
While most screamed and railed against the injustice of the things done to them, Storm suffered her indignities in silence. Even when they chose to shave a portion of her head in order to tattoo some kind of number on her skull. It was horrid. Looking at it in the reflection of the wall made her narrow her eyes and remind herself that moving too quickly would only lead to her being either recaptured or killed. Not only that, but she could hardly disappear from a place like this and leave the others behind.
The others, she still listened whenever she could, some were scattered. Some gone. A few, those she was almost certain she did not personally know were dead. Of course, knowing for sure would make things that much easier. As it stood though, she knew that she was still alive, as was Black Dog. Or at least she was assuming it was Nik. There weren't many who fit the description of werewolf that she knew of, least of all one large enough to have possibly called an elephant parent.
Either way, the first order of business was to get out of the damn cells. The doors were a challenge. Or at least they had been when she was first brought in. After she'd managed to get a key and could open it, she'd locked it back secreting the key away swiftly. If nothing else, she could get out of the cell. The next thing took a few more days. The serum, whatever it was they were using, wore off over time. Meaning a waiting game and some very precise timing. The kind of timing that could be botched by a hair's breadth in the wrong direction.
The hardest part was the waiting. Waiting for guards to make their rounds so that she could map their routines. Waiting for food to be brought to estimate the time of day. Listening at the door whenever she heard footsteps in order to find out what gossip she could. The same gossip telling her she wasn't the last. As good as that made her feel, knowing there was someone else still alive, it also made her sick at wondering how they had been treated.
There were blank moments in time for her. They weren't filled with screams, but occasionally there were lights and a very low, old movie actor sounding, voice telling her things. Thinking about it too hard gave her a headache so she avoided thinking about it. Whatever it was probably had a great deal to do with her shaved head and new tattoo. Also something else to think about. One comfortable thought, she could shave the other side to match or just comb over the damaged section.
Storm could ask Wisdom about it when she got back or maybe Polaris. A female opinion would probably be better. Pete would probably have thought her with a bald head was sexy. Storm couldn't quite say she agreed with that assessment.
Dinner came that evening, on schedule, and Storm waited until five minutes had passed before unlocking her door and slipping out into the hall. The camera would notice her gone within the next ten minutes. Storm intended to be reinforced (finding someone else) within five. Two would be harder to catch than one. Not to mention, if she could find anyone from either Haven or the newly formed Brotherhood, they would have background in at least rudimentary tactics. That would be for the best.
She hurried down the hall, quiet in her bare feet. While in most cases, taking a person's shoes would be a problem, for a woman who grew up running the sun baked streets of Cairo barefoot, a cold metal floor was practically nothing. Not to mention, she could feel her abilities returning as the chill of the air ceased to matter.
At each cell door, she took a quick glance, looking for any face she might know. Most of the rooms were empty, some of them showing that they were only recently emptied, the beds still unmade. Yet there was one, much larger than the others and still dark. Odd in a place full of florescent lights.
The alarm sounded as she stopped to look closer. She let herself have one single curse word in Arabic before slipping her key into the door. Storm was going to have to come up with another plan.