Quietly, experiment #713 lifted his head and looked around at his world. It consisted of the clear glass cylinder he sat in, with room for him to stand though not to stretch out. A grate on part of the floor would carry away excrement and there was a gap in the tube for food and water to be passed through. he could push his arm through it, but not much else. He'd once wondered if he could starve himseld and squeeze through, but of course his head would never fit. But it was the only way out that he could see. He knew the cylinder would open somehow, but he was always asleep when it happened.
Beyond his cylinder there were more just like it, some occupied, some not. Around them was all the paraphanelia of a geneticist's lab. Once, he'd tried to communicate with his fellow prisoners. Now he didn't react when one of them was dissected.
Impassively he turned to see what had attracted his attention and watched Mister Sinister come in. At first, he'd raged against him, then cowered. Now he just watched without feeling anything at all.
Sinister set up one of the tables, then walked over to his container and pushed the button next to the one marked gas. Without surprise, he watched as the glass became opaque, leaving him in darkness. When it grew clear again, the woman from the cylinder next to his was on the table. Sinister didn't want him to see any of the cylinders open.
Dressed like he was in only a bulky inhibiter collar, the woman stared fearfully up at the scientist. He could understand that. The only time he felt fear anymore was when it was him lying on the table.
While he watched, Sinister picked up a scalpul and opened the woman's stomach, ignoring her screams. After a while, the screams went away and he went back to staring at nothing at all.
With nowhere to run, he cowered and tried to hold his breath as the thick green smoke descended on him, fouling the atmosphere with the smell of burnt hair. He resisted as long as he could, but Sinister was patient and finally he had to take a breath. Immediately he felt his head start to swim and slumped down.
Somebody, please help me! He thought, to his own surprise. He'd believed he'd stopped praying a long time ago. He passed out soon after, to the sight of Sinister's familiar, glowing red eyes.
Still, he knew he was lucky to even be awake. Sinister eventually dissected all of his prisoners and he knew it was only a matter of time for him. He briefly considered asking Sinister when he would kill him, but that was looking ahead too much. A man could go mad doing that.
So he just lay there as Sinister took a series of blood tests and injected him with other things that made him shiver. Neither of them said anything. Finally, Sinister picked up an anethesia mask and moved to put it over his nose and mouth. It was time to go back to his cylinder.
Distantly, he heard an explosion. Sinister heard it as well and looked towards the door. There was another explosion and he cursed. Putting the mask loosely over the prisoner's face, he turned on the gas and ran out.
The mask wasn't on all the way and he sucked air desperately out of the side of his mouth, trying to stay awake. It wasn't enough, though, and he felt himself begin to drift into sleep.
There was another series of explosions and the lab shook. Then a thick red beam of light blasted through the wall, smashing into the ceiling. Support girders fell and a fire began in the side of the lab with the cylinders. The beam also cut through one of the computers and his restraints snapped open.
With all the strength he had left, he reached up and pulled the gas mask off. Then he just lay there for a few moments while his head cleared. Finally, he sat up.
The other half of the lab was on fire. He could hear the screams of the prisoners and see their blackening bodies convulse in the flames, but he couldn't do anything. Toxic smoke started towards him and he got off the table, headed for the hole blown in the wall. He could hear fighting through there, but it was the only way out. If he stayed he would die, and he found that he still very much wanted to live.
On the other side of the wall was a hangar, filled with equipment, much of it destroyed. There was fire here as well, and mutants were attacking Sinister.
The sight of that, obscured though it was, stopped him. It was hard to imagine anyone standing up to Sinister, but as he watched he remembered fighting against Sinister himself. Only he'd been alone and the geneticist had shrugged off his best attempts. Then he'd learned not to resist.
Now, however, Sinister wasn't doing so well. There was a black woman who hurled lightning at him, and an auburn haired one in green who threw a punch strong enough to break a battleship. A short man moved to claw him as a second turned the floor to ice. But it was when a brown haired man in a visor shot beams at him from his eyes that Sinister screamed.
Unnoticed, he watched all this. Part of him wanted to help, but he was naked, and his collar was heavy, and he was already coughing from the smoke. More, there was something deep inside him that didn't know how to fight anymore.
Turning his back, he went to the entrance, walking slowly so as not to cut his bare feet, and climbed up a cracked ramp to the surface. It was cold and raining outside, but the air was sweet and there was no sign of Sinister. Wrapping his arms around himself and under his long beard for warmth, he hurried into the woods.
He got lost almost immediately. Stumbling on the uneven ground, he struggled forward, not making a sound as he twisted his ankle stepping into a hole. Limping and exhausted at his first exercise since his capture, he forced himself a little farther, but the stress was too much and he went to his knees.
Apparently he would die out here anyway, or be retaken by Sinister. Blinking rain out of his eyes, he looked around for anything that could help him escape and started.
He was kneeling on the edge of a clearing and inside it was a ship. An invisible ship made visible by the rain which fell on it.
Shivering, he hobbled towards it, hoping that it belonged to the strange mutants and not Sinister. Either way, it was warm and dry and a place to hide.
He had to use touch to find his way into the ship. Inside, everything was visible, but he didn't explore. Instead he limped to the very back of the ship. Back there, he found a closet that had room for him. In it were several uniforms as well. One piece blue and gold bodysuits with an X on the buckle. He only hesitated a moment before he pulled one on to find it contoured to his body and fit perfectly. Quickly, he found a pair of boots that were only slightly too big and crawled into the closet. It was cramped and dark, and reminded him of the cylinder that had been his home for so long.
He was fast asleep by the time the plane's owners came to fly it home.