I Die Often Hank

Chapter 18

Warning: This chapter is gonna be violent and features some torture

Hank's POV:

I was going about my day working on making more of my serum so that I can look like a human and not scare Crimson off. 

"Hank are you available at the moment?" Charles asked in my head.

"Of course," I thought.

"Crimson got a flat tire on the way to the jewelry store would you mind picking her up?" Charles asked.

"It would be my pleasure," I replied. 

"I'm going to exit your mind before I learn any more about your pleasures," Charles spoke. 

Ewww. Charles looked at those memories?! He better not tell Erik. 

I took off my lab coat and made my way to the garage. I climbed inside one of the cars and carefully pulled out of the driveway. I enjoyed the nice calm car ride while some old music from when I was younger played softly on the radio. I could see a car pulled over up ahead. I slowed down and pulled up right behind it. I walked up to the car and felt my heart sink. There was blood all over the car and the ground. Crim was nowhere to be found. I spotted a needle on the ground and began to feel panic rise up through my body. 

"Crim!" I called out looking around everywhere. 

"CRIM!" I practically screamed.

"Charles, please tell me you can reach her," I thought while thinking of all the worst things.

"I'm afraid I cannot, her mind is unavailable to me, it's as if there is a wall in place preventing me from," Charles informed.

I sunk to my knees and called out for her again.

A little while later

Crimson's POV:

I woke up and I was in a cold large room with dark concrete walls and large surgical lights hung above the table I was strapped onto. I craned my neck up and saw a reflective glass wall in front of me. One way glass no doubt. I looked to my right and saw a table filled with several tools some more medical, others not so much. Oh well, might as well make a quick escape this time. I reached over stretching out my right hand against its leather restraint. My fingers finally gripped onto the head of an ax. I slowly turned the ax and caught the bottom part of the handle in my mouth. No time to overcome the mental hurdle of chopping my own hand off. I turned my head to the right swinging the ax and then quickly turned and aimed the ax at my left wrist. I watched as the hand fell clean off and heard the awful splattering noise the hand made when it hit the floor. Then it hit me; pain. I screamed out in pain against the ax handle still in my mouth. Then I looked over and my hand hadn't grown back, instead, blood continued to pour out of the stump. 

WHAT THE FUCK!? This has to be a hallucination right? A bad dream? Any second now I'll wake up and be back safe and sound in the school. Someone is going to wake me up soon.

A door moved open and a man strode in. He glanced at my stump and then at the hand on the floor. He looked slightly amused. I took him in, he was of average height, had dark hair that had been shaved down on the sides, he was clean-shaven, judging by the outfit and mechanical walk he definitely military. He approached me and I swung my mouth ax at him, he dodged out of the way and pulled the ax from my mouth. 

"Colonel William Stryker, it's good to finally meet you," He said shaking my remaining hand.

"Funny, I can't say the same thing," I spoke while spitting in his face.