Each shiver of her body rocks her shoulders against the bookshelves. She has jammed herself into the space between the pair of them, sliding down to the hardwood floor, her feet out in front her - a temporary shield should someone find her. She can’t stop shaking, and feels each rattle transfer over to the bookshelf supports. It’s dark and quiet in the shadows of the school library, but still not silent enough to cover the beating pain of her heart. “You mutant dogs will see hell. I go to heaven. Blessed are the Friends of Huma-” “Yay, yay, I get it.” BOOMPH! A bright red light fills the room, and then a man is standing over her, and there are hands pushing at the restraints on her wrists and ankles, and she tries to pull away, tries to kick out at the red visor wearing man above her, and all she manages is a pained screamed. Hands smooth at her hair as she weakly twists away. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here to rescue you. Jean, tell Hank we need him. Yay, looks like they were torturing her. No, I got her.” She feels a pair of arms close around her, and blacks out before she can fight them. Footsteps echo off the hardwood floor, and she tightens her fists. HEr breath is a shakey rattle in her lungs, the bruises on her ribs pained. It feels like she’s coming apart completely, and there’s nothing she can do to save herself. Only breath. Breath. Bit down on her lip and keep the noises inside and breath as quietly as she can through her nose. In the darkness of the room, to call up her powers would only give away her position. She prays they do not look too closely at the bookshelves. The footsteps get closer. Her heart beats so fast it’s a constant thud in her chest. “-lacerations, three broken ribs, extensive bleeding. They put her through the ringer. Don’t know how she survived, really.” Bright white lights above her. She twists her head. Blue fur. Yellow eyes. A fanged smile. She screams. Her heart, her whole body, stops as the footsteps come right in front of her, two pairs of black boots and legs that she refuses to turn her head up to follow. Stay still, stay still; the mantra repeats over and over in her thoughts. It’s so hard to stay still, and not breath, and not scream. Her feet shake against the floor boards.
