You had no idea how long it had been. There was no way to tell time--no windows or clocks. But it felt like three weeks. They dragged you to a cell, then back out for questioning every so often and after that you woke up in your cell after passing out. The cycle repeated.
The third time you woke up in the cell was decidedly the last time. What they did hurt so much. You couldn't see them ever letting you go, nor stopping the torture.
You'd get out of here or die trying.
The cell was small and dark, purple light radiated from groves in the dark, metal plates lining the room.
The door blended in with the walls and each of them looked identical. But you always woke up facing the door.
You stalked towards the wall that held the door, and ran your fingers across it. There were groves and lines, but you stopped at a crack. You could feel the bottoms of everything else, but not that crack.
You followed the crack with your finger, and soon realized you were outlining the door. A small grin crossed your face.
You moved slightly to the left of it, sat and waited. And waited. And waited.
It took forever for them to come back for you. You'd almost fallen asleep. But when you heard the door sliding open, you were on your feet in a split second.
On the way up, you grabbed the guy's gun and shoved it up. He let it slip from his grasp in shock. You took that opportunity to slam it into his chest. And you did it hard. You used every bit of strength in your arms.
That wasn't the end of it, however. Before you even heard the guy hit the ground, you were facing a second purple-person. They always come in pairs.
You flipped the gun to aim at him, but before you could find the trigger, you hit the wall. As you slid down, a fire ignited in your shoulder.
You screamed and went to clutch the gunshot. You didn't feel blood. Panic shoved its way into your head. You had no idea what the effects of the shots were.
You could feel the purple people grow closer to you as you checked the wound. There was a hole in the clothes they put you in; the skin on your left shoulder was black and charred. Quickly, you looked away. The sight made you feel queasy.
Instead, you snap you gaze up, just in time to see a red flash of person. Or a person-shaped alien?
After taking out both guards with their sword, they turn to you. You could make out ruffled black hair and purple-ish eyes inside the helmet. They looked human. Like you.
You gave him (you decided it was a guy based on the facial features) a friendly smile. Anyone who would take out those purple people were friends of yours.
"Thanks," you mumble, struggling to get to your feet with one arm. He nodded in your direction before turning to speak to someone using his helmet.
"I found a prisoner, and by the looks of it she's been here much longer than Shiro."
His voice was just as you expected it to be. You took minor offense from his words, though. Who the hell is Shiro?
"There are tons of prisoners on the ship Keith, we can't save them all." You could hear a faint voice echo from his helmet.
"No, Allura, she's Altean."
Less than six seconds after hearing that word, you had one of the guns aimed at his head. "I don't know what the fuck Altean means, but I'm not it."
When you said that word, you could feel the shots of electricity. It set your eyes ablaze, burned your heart. It scared you.
"It's a race of people," 'Keith' says calmly. One of the voices calls his name in concern.
"I'm human. Raised on earth, what I have is just some condition inherited from my mother." You hissed.
"If you're from Earth, how'd you get here?" He questions accusingly.
"You're not going to believe me, but some giant robot cat-lion thing."
At that his eyes widen. "The red lion?"
"It was white."
"You have to come with me. We have to get the lions off this ship."
"I might be wrong here, but I'm the one with the gun to your head."
Keith noticed that you left arm just barley touched the gun, and your right could hardly handle the weigh. He snatched it from you while you fumbled for the trigger. "Didn't think you'd know how to use it."
You turn your gaze away in embarrassment. "Do you know where they are, the lions?" Keith asks. You feel uncomfortable under his gaze, as of your a child.
"I'm not sure, but I feel like they're this way." You turn to the left, and start walking down the dim hallways.
