The Dark Fairy (Young Justice)

Chapter 1: I Met Dumbledore (EDITED)

IMPORTANT ANOUNCEMENT
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Now as avid readers know, this book was started by an emotionally and literary uneducated 13 year-old. Whilst I am not currently finished with this book, I can no longer keep tearing my hair out at the bad writing, grammar mistakes and shoddy character building. I created a Mary Sue, and shit, I can't change that because a hell of a lot of this book is based on her powers, but I can sure as hell try and fix what I can.

That being said THIS BOOK IS AS OF NOW UNDER HEAVY EDITING AND RECONSTRUCTION.

Thank you and enjoy the book <3

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I clenched my teeth as another wave of electricity spread like a fire through my body. It made its way through, making me feel as if I was burning from the inside out.

The man next to me grinned happily and turned up the voltage before pressing the button again. This time I sobbed in pain as the electricity laced my body and made me writhe in pain. The metallic taste in my mouth assured me that my nasty habit of grinding my teeth had left some blood pooling by my gums.

He was an odd looking man. Short and flimsy, like a twig. He had sunken in eyes and slicked back greasy hair.

Deen Malick looked back at me and said in a sly voice, "Oh is the miss a little loud today?"

I spit the into his face, "Go to hell!"

He wiped the blood off and pressed the button again.

Oh, where are my manners? I haven’t introduced myself yet.

Hi I'm Fae. As you've gathered so far I don't have the greatest of habitats to roam through. Some of you reading this book (which quite frankly is probably the 5th book you've read about this sort of thing, this week) have a few questions.

See, the problem is that there are some questions which I can't give you answers to at this exact moment.

For a long time I have seen nothing but the white walls of this horrid place, the sickening stench of blood a constant in the last three years. They started the electricity testing about two years into my imprisonment. I've grown used to it but...I grew older the 'treatments' grew more and more painful.

The people here were...unsettling. They didn'tseem to care for me, didn'tbelieveme to be worth the spared pain of letting me go. They would laugh at my pain and strive from my screams. Real sickos if you catch my drift. It was all I could do not to show weakness.

Some days I did nothing but scream. Some days i honest to goodness couldn't care less and doodled weakly on the walls after the sessions, drawing small sketches of a world I remembered from before, people that had once done more to love than to harm me.

I am not to afraid to admit that I have been broken by now, hell who wouldn't be? The workers here made it their mission to treat me like a corpse donated to science, leaving me most nights with nothing but the sound of my struggling heartbeat and curling up in my dark cell. Nights I wish they had killed me but they never did.

The man seeming satisfied with my electro shocking for the day, shuffling around to the other side of the machine I was on and took his  glistening needles out. Each day a new poison or drug. The same routine over and over of electricity and needles and...scalpals.

I hated the scalpals.

A couple of hours later I was unbuckled from my chair and taken to my cell. I heard a comment from one of the guards as they slid me across the floor like a rag doll. Apparently tomorrow was the anniversary of my stay here.