DEFIANT • kylo ren (18+)

01 - You know enough.

Waking up to blinding fluorescent light flickering relentlessly and an aching, blinding pain throughout your body was not the Saturday morning you'd envisioned.

Your head pounds as a small, irritating, high pitched ringing scratches through your ear canal. You slowly bring your hand up to where your head hurts the most, stifling a whimper of pain as your fingers touch at a delicate wound. Blood smears your fingertips as you inspect them, urging a prick of anxiety at the pit of your stomach.

Your eyes deceive you, the blur obvious yet fading. Careful not to smudge the blood to your face, you bring the back of your hand up to rub at your eyelids, stars exploding under the pressure. The light, or lack of, dances around as you yearn for more rest.

Taking a moment to breathe, and ignoring more stabbing pains, you squint around the room - internally begging for answers. Grey bedsheets, grey walls, grey floor. Looking down, you frown as you realise you're wearing grey also. You don't remember wearing grey.

Except... your hand jumps to your side out of instinct as you suddenly realise you can't feel the familiar heavy metal poking into your hip. Where the fuck is your lightsaber?

The room is square and barren, lacking in personality or any flare of comfort, consisting only of a hard prison-like bed, a metal sink and a smudged mirror.

Desperately ignoring your aching limbs, you urge yourself to sit up and dangle your legs over the side of the bed. The wall bares your weight as you allow a moments rest. It's seconds before you notice the camera in the corner of the room. Watching you. An uneasy sensation creeps through your conscience.

Scrambling to your feet, you leap towards the door. As soon as you do, a blinding white light corrupts your vision as your head sears in pain. The quick rush hits you from all angles, you feel yourself falling through the air and hitting the ground with a thud, slowly losing consciousness from your sudden movement.

The soreness of your neck as you awake, however long later, is nothing in comparison to the lack of hope you feel as you consider your position.

You're badly injured, and with no sight of an escape - your mind wanders. Your heartstrings tug at the thought of what got you here, you grasp for an inkling, a glimmer of what happened - but come up blank.

Regardless of this, you blindly reach for the door to bang on it. There is no handle, button or means of communication as far as you can see. Only metal, a plain door, clanging under your fists.

"Hello?" You croak, voice hoarse. How long have you spent in this cell?

You anguish over the thought of your friends, do they know you're alive? Are they alive? Your stomach sinks. Studying the walls, and the obvious design, you conclude that you must have been captured by the First Order. Your breathing heavies, the odds of surviving this without torture is little to none. If you are aboard the Finalizer, you'd have to say you have no chance.

"HEY!" You yell, then a cough rips through you. You sit up slightly better, using your arm to support yourself, and continue to bang on the door as hard as your bruised knuckles will allow.

Silence follows.

You decide to meditate, knowing the Force will guide you. Praying it will.

Sitting crossed legged, you place your palms to the cool concrete, focusing all your strength into the energy field enveloping you and all that surrounds. Accepting that you're scared. You're anxious. Your eyes flutter shut. Your fears drift. Peace. Harmony. Serenity. Your mind clears, like cool water pouring off the edge of a cliff. You search for a sense of life, a Force-user, anything. Though your psyche grabs only at air. Nothing. Your mind aches with the strain of the discipline.