Asylum

Team Up

Alex Severo

We at Asylum received word that an agent known worldwide as the Reaper would be coming. What, was I not good enough to track down the escapees myself? Did the wardens not trust me anymore? Will they punish me for not being able to tell that Elektra was two-faced? All I've been told about this situation is that nothing will be discussed until the Reaper gets here. These wardens hate repeating themselves twice.

"Cerberus," a guard calls my name – the one I go by. "We've got an approaching vehicle. Looks official."

Grunting, I grab a pair of binoculars and peer at the faraway Humvee, which bounces over rocks and snaps tree branches in half. "Yeah. That's them," I acknowledge. My body feels stern and on edge, as if it's ready to pounce. My voice is low; almost a growl. Right now, I'm serious and stoic; all business and no games. This is only temporary: I know that much. At anytime, my MPD can kick in and screw me up.

The gates screech open, the sound like a razor against flesh. It never bothered me until it meant that Asylum needed someone else – someone better than me – to do a job. It's like a stab in the back after all I've done for them. My walkie-talkie beeps in, resting on the wall. "Cerberus, you here?"

Swiping the device, I hold the button and speak. "I'm here, Warden. What's up?"

"Greet the visitors and meet in the security control room. Stat."

"On it," I promise, descending to the courtyard. The guards herd others into the closest buildings. After the retaliation of the five escapees, everyone is on edge about being near the walls. They saw how we unloaded our magazines of bullets on them and how I attacked. If someone even looks like they're trying to break out, they'll be swiftly put to rest.

The Humvee parks just outside and the passenger door opens, unloading a person, before speeding off. I don't understand. How can this one person be more useful than I am? Me, who can mimic any power in my range. Me, who has unmeasured loyalty to Asylum for taking me out of my home life. What can the Reaper possibly have to offer that I don't? I have more drive to prove myself. I may not have been trained by some lavished agency, but I certainly have my wits about me to figure out all the tricks.

A girl approaches. She appears to be about 19, but her eyes look as old as dinosaurs. There's an aura of intellect and lethality around her that makes her intense and unapproachable. Her hair cascades down her back quite a bit, the shade of raven's feathers. Her eyes are a dark brown, almost black color. Her skin is smooth and an olive tone. She scans me from head to toe. "You're Alex Severo?"

Hearing my name – my real name – for the first time in years is unfamiliar. I almost forgot how it sounded. For a second, I'm confused. Who is Alex? Why does he have my last name? But I remember my identity before Asylum and I tense up. "I go by Cerberus."

Reaper scrutinizes me. "You don't look like you have three heads.""

"The wardens want to meet us in the control room. Follow me, please."

"Us?" she echoes. Her voice silky but empty. It's as if there's supposed to be a lightheartedness in her being. But it seems like it was crushed to pieces years ago. "They want to see you, too? Aren't you the jackass who opened the gates for the convicts in the first place?"

Clenching my fists, I try to keep my temper down, but there are voices in my head that make it hard. They tell me to finish her before she starts on the job I should've been handed. They tell me to shut her up. They call me a monster for harboring these voices. There's another voice, too: my mother's.