Agent X

xx| 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 |xx

The Real Xara. WAOIC Headquarters. Location Unknown.

The ground beneath me was cold and hard. The air was frigid, accompanied by the putrid scent of mold and decaying flesh. My entire body throbbed, especially my wrists. Something is not right. My eyelids opened to reveal a dimly lit cell. It was about the size of a small bedroom, though it was unfurnished, explaining why I sat on the grimy floor. The four walls were composed of coarse rock, which dug into my back as I lay against it.

To the left was the door to the prison cell. Outside was the only source of light: a single, dingy lightbulb that hung from the ceiling. The bars were just small enough so I couldn't fit through them, taunting me with my lack of freedom.

As my gaze turned to my wrists, I discovered that the abrasive ache on my skin was caused by metal chains that dug into my veins. I could vaguely make out the brownish-red contours of dried blood that had streamed down my hands.

I hope that isn't infected.

The chains attached to the floor, leaving very little space for arm movement. Nevertheless, I tried to shift my position to get more comfortable. Even the tiniest movement sent pain shooting through the muscles in my legs, and pressed the metal further into my skin. But I was successfully able to shift from having my legs stretched out in front of me to the butterfly position.

Cross, cross, applesauce. Those childish thoughts would be the most entertainment I'd likely get until I was rescued.

If I was rescued. One must always consider all of the possibilities.

The sound of a door closing resounded in the room outside. Slowly, footsteps approached. I sat up a little straighter. I had a feeling this newcomer had arrived to visit me.

Game face on, I stared at the door, waiting. Presently, a figure appeared in the doorway. I could tell that my assertive stance had caught him off guard, for he paused a moment when his brown eyes met mine. But he soon covered it up, throwing on a sickening sweet smile.

"And so we meet again, Agent X," Smog said.

"So it appears."

The keys in Smog's hand chimed as he placed the key in the cell door's lock.

"Do you like the present we gave you?" he asked.

"I'm sure I did," I replied.

Smog arched an eyebrow. "Excellent! We'll have to play again sometime."

I remained silent as I watched him awkwardly struggle to turn the key in the lock on the cell door.

"Old door?" I asked.

"Yes, very old. It's probably seen at least two centuries worth of prisoners."

Finally, the door creaked open. Smog didn't rush his entrance into my cell, nor his closure of the door. For one thing, I was chained to the floor. For another, I wasn't naive enough to believe that I could escape past all of the guards if I made a break for it.

"Are you ready to go on a field trip?" Smog said.

"It'll be more interesting than sitting here. I've been bored for hours."

Despite the low lighting, Smog's teeth gleamed as he grinned. "Lies. You've been unconscious for the past two days."

"Ah, clever. You decided to drug me."

"Of course. That's when we threw the welcoming party for you. We had a few of our best Agents put you in your place."

I understood the pain I felt all over. They had decided to beat me up while I was comatosed.