Lucifer

I

"Trapped by reality, freed by imagination."

The sounds of chains clanking woke me up from my slumber. I blinked a few times, adjusting to the blinding light. A man's back was firmly against the wall as he ferociously tried to break the cuffs wrapped around his wrists. I glanced down at his feet, to see chains wrapped around his ankles.

He looked up and gave me a weary smile. I quickly looked away and gazed at the wall, a wave of sadness washing over me as I remembered all that happened these past days. The police sirens rang in my ears, my mother pleading for them to let me go. It all happened so fast, yet I remember every single detail. I will never the forget the horror on my mother's face, the grief in her eyes. I'd never seen her that way before my father left us.

I stared back at the man, wondering why he's so restricted, while I am free to move around. He looked to be around his thirties, and appeared to look harmless. I wanted to ask him why he's here, but a part of me didn't want to say the wrong thing. In this place, you have to stick by the rules. One of them being to not be fooled by looks. Although I have done no wrong, I respect those who follow the rules, even if it means giving me the cold shoulder. This is the last place you'd want to make a friend.

Yes, I have done no wrong deed, nor have I broken the law. Rather, I don't know the reason I'm here in the first place. There wasn't a sole explanation for any of this. However, I've gotten to know this place in a long and dreadful three days. Everyone hurts each other. It seems to be a past time for all these prisoners. I silently watch them, trying not to stand out. It never seems to work; I always get caught up in the chaos one way or another.

"Where's Experiment No.2 located?" a man inquired. I shifted, unable to see him because I was on a hard, wooden bed in the corner of the cell.

A pair of fingers clutched the rusty steel bars, one hand fidgeting the lock. A dark-haired, heavily-built man entered, staring with an intense gaze. His pitch-black eyes focused on me, and his fervent scrutiny consuming my last vestige of hope. I was deep underwater, drowning. I couldn't breath, too intimidated by his stare as I moved farther away, not even the least bit intrigued in what he was going to do or say. I winced in pain and looked at my hand, seeing a splinter on my palm.

He let out a mocking laugh, harshly grabbing my arm. "You're coming with me." He dragged me out of the man-cage forcefully and threw me against the wall, debris of paint falling to the ground.

He shot me a glare and before I knew it, my cheek throbbed, swelling up. I held back a cry as my vision slowly blurred with tears. "Do you understand?" The pain from the wood and punch together was unbearable. I no longer felt pain by the wood digging into my skin.

I nodded, letting out a shaky breath. "Should we explain the rules to her, General Tano?" one of his men asked in a whisper. With a resigned sigh, Tano clicked his tongue.

"I suppose we should bring her with the others, but first. . ." His smirk made me nauseous.

My lip quivered. I already felt intense hate building up inside of me by just looking at him.

I glanced at his hand, noticing a metal collar held tightly beneath his fingers.

He grabbed my neck with one hand and opened the collar, alarming me. His hands were so. . . cold. I attempted to hide my fear, tensing my neck, staring directly into his eyes. It was difficult. His eyes were so unwelcoming.

Tano reached in his back pocket and took out a device, holding it up. "There are four levels on this remote. The first one is a small little shock, just enough to have you begging on the ground."