“Grandma? You think that upsets me? At least I’ve lived past 25. Not sure you’ll be able to say the same, you little roach,” Typhoid replied, her voice reaching across the vast distance from here to the nearest Hand hideout.
She laughed. “The fact that you think there are big guys or that I’m trapped means it’s been six years and you’re still fucking clueless.” After a pause, a smirk crossed Mary’s face. “If I wait ‘til you get out, I might be a grandma for real. I’m gonna make sure you’re so doped up you forget how to work that nasty little mouth of yours.”
Typhoid Mary drew her dual knives out of their sheaths and eyed the blades. She ran them together and enjoyed the sound of steel kissing steel. True, Ellie had been one of the kids they’d held onto the longest- something about that pubescent X-gene made the chemical reactions even stronger.
But if the little bitch thought she was special, irreplaceable, she was wrong.
“I’ll be back in an hour, so fix your fuckin’ tone or we’re gonna do another experiment with my knives. And I’ll let Bloody Mary take the lead- you know, she doesn’t really follow the scientific method.”
‘Oh, trust me, I’m counting on it.’ The come-back could go either way, but regardless it was accurate. If she could just find a decent opening, or get some kind of distraction going, then Ellie was sure that she could easily escape whatever compound they had her locked up in. If not, well, then it wouldn’t be the first time that she’d considered certain death as a serious option.
‘No shit. Thought that was the point?’ Ellie wasn’t going to lie to herself, she thought that she’d connected at least most of the dots in her head by now. The idea that she’d basically been trying to swim in the damn sand was more than a little upsetting, but she was determined not to let it show. Besides, there was always the chance that Mary could be lying. Never trust a psychopath. ‘Or you’ll be dead. I’d gladly rot in here until then. Or I could speed up the process. Take your pick.’
It was kind of weird, seeing something through someone else’s eyes. It was even weirder seeing someone examine their knives while simulatineously threaning you with them. For a moment, she began to regret pushing her captor so far when she did know fully well what she was capable of, but she quickly pushed that fear away. She couldn’t go back now. And besides, she had help coming, right? She deserved to have some confidence.
‘An hour, huh? That’s quick. What, can’t wait to see your favourite little prisoner? I’ll be sure to pick out something nice, make sure I look all presentable and shit.’