continued from here with @justctraveler
the doctor quietens. she was in this facility, studying what they were doing. always love secret facilities, she does. always love figuring out the secrets behind them; the secrets they’re keeping. but when you can’t get anymore information from computers or from looking, you go deeper. deeper and deeper and there was only so far you could get with a sonic before you had to start climbing through ventilation shafts. except there was a weak point. and she landed right outside a glass ‘cage’? area, looking at the person in front.
she had read about him already. archived material, secret missions. what they did to him. she had lowered to the ground, and began talking to him. but this question is what stumped her. because… because of the pain. how low this person was, but yet so strong to have dealt with this through all of these years.
“i don’t think ‘bout things like that ‘till it becomes a problem, honestly.” she gave a small shrug and a smile, before shifting herself forward to look at him properly. her expression grew serious. “what they’ve done to you, neirin, it’s not right. and i intend t’stop it. but i won’t be able to do it without your help. i can get you out of here but you need to do what i say. the first little rule being; no killin’.” she turned and glanced towards the proper door - which she had sealed as soon as she got in here, and then up towards the hole above her, in the ceiling. think. “they’re going to be expecting me. but they might not be expecting you. question is, though - do you wanna take this chance? d’you wanna try leavin’ with me?”
the woman had startled him.
the glass, the clear prison that had enveloped him for longer than he can remember now, was so very good at dampening his energy. it still prickled underneath his skin, still grew restless in the early hours of the morning - or, what he supposes is morning - still tore through his veins like fire. but, that was all it did. cause his skin to burn and his mind to race and he couldn’t even use it to escape. ( not that he hadn’t tried. not that he hadn’t spent days battering against his confines with all the strength he could give, not that he hadn’t shattered ribs and wrists and ankles in a desperate plea for freedom. )
dull eyes had watched her descent from the ceiling, body not moving to react in the slightest. he blinks, slow and tired, and tries not to think about the pity in her eyes. pity was not something he deserved, was not something he wanted. isn’t entirely sure why he had asked the question - doesn’t think it had been all too good a use of his voice, not when his throat was so rough and talking took more effort than he was willing to admit. supposes the answer he receives somewhat makes up for it, almost allows himself a bit of hope when she mentions getting him out.
but then she say’s no killing, and wonders if it was some cruel joke. because what else was he good for? what else could he do besides slaughter, with the rage they had forced into him, that was so restless under his skin. it was all he knew. death, and fighting, and injury. the taste of blood in his teeth when he overexerted, the shadows that danced across his vision with every hit.
supposes he could learn. supposes it would be nice, would be so much better than the existence he currently continued. perhaps, the boy entertains, he could learn to not be so violent. and the woman, the stranger, she looked so serious, so intent on helping him that it causes guilt to bubble up in his throat at the thought of rejecting her.
“yes.”