Caged 1/4
Caged
He was blind, and cold. Metal bars pressed against his back and hard cement was underfoot. The person next to him seemed to be giving off a frigid chill that made everything he touched stick to him; he suspected she was a mutant, they all were. He could hear movement in the other cells, a footstep here, a hiss there, and the strangest chiming sound like crystal or diamond on metal. He had tried to speak to the others but a shout from the guards had silenced him.
He was afraid. But mostly he was just cold.
He was thankful for the thick padding underneath his opaque visor; life would have been a lot worse with a heavy metal plate frosted to his face.
Scott Summers, that was his name and he was a mutant. He knew that’s why he had been taken. That’s also why he knew he wouldn’t be rescued. It was probably the government, they had finally started rounding them all up and putting them in cages. He couldn’t say he was surprised but he had never though they would come to his school like they had.
Shivering slightly, Scott recalled the monster that had come for him. Another mutant, who had hardly seemed human at the time, running on all fours like a wildcat. Grinning like the devil and flashing his fangs, all the while flexing his fingers with their wicked sharp claws. He had heard of mutants like that, ones that lose their humanity and become like animals. He had always thought it was just a sick rumour that the anti-mutant factions had started to make ordinary people feel afraid at night, but when that man had grinned at him and bared his fangs Scott finally understood their fear.
The man had chased him down; running on all fours and across walls like gravity had no hold on him. It hadn’t even been a challenge; both knew from the moment that Scott had fallen and their eyes met how it was going to end, but he had tried. God had he tried, scrabbling backwards across the linoleum and finally standing and running faster than he had ever run before.
Scott slid to the ground and hung his head as the memory of being caught surfaced. How his eyes had carved a chunk out of his school within seconds of being revealed. That was almost worse than being caught. Ever since his powers had surfaced he had been terrified of them, of the destruction he could cause. He didn’t want to be like those other mutants that everyone was afraid of, he wasn’t one of them, he wasn’t like that. He had tried so hard to believe that but when his glasses had come off and the school disintegrated under his gaze he knew, and he understood. They were right to be afraid.
The man that had been chasing him seemed amused by it all. His hand had enveloped Scott’s head as if he were a child, sharp nails digging threateningly into his skin, his large form looming over him like the predator he was, and just when Scott had been sure he was dead there was another voice and then darkness.
It had been dark ever since.
Scott lay down on the hard cement and fell into an uneasy sleep. Day and night looked the same, in the end.
**********
He woke to the sound of silence and immediately knew something was wrong. It was never silent; there was always movement, sounds from the other inmates. Not so much as a breath could be heard.
Scott sat up slowly and listened.
“Hello?” He called cautiously. Heavy footsteps fell, just outside his cage. Scott flinched and moved into a crouch. The footsteps continued and Scott followed them as they went around and around his cage in a steady rhythm. He could feel eyes watching him. “Who’s there?”
No answer. The footsteps stopped. Scott held his breath.
A grating, screeching sound filled the air, like nails on a chalkboard. He covered his ears but it barely helped as the sound increased until Scott couldn’t take it anymore.
“Stop it!” He cried, voice cracking.
The sound stopped and all was silent until a dark, rumbling chuckle split the silence.
Scott’s fists clenched until his nails bit into his hands.
Finally the footsteps began, fading away as the man exited the room.
Silence, until the inmate next to him let out a shuddering breath that chilled the air around him. “Boy, you’re in trouble.”
With a sinking feeling Scott couldn’t help but think she was right.
***********
Victor Creed was a man of simple tastes. Some might call those tastes cruel or even sadistic, and they might be right. Even after he left the cells a grin was still playing at his mouth. Granted, scaring the blind boy wasn’t quite as fun as, say, hunting or killing, but it had its own reward in the end. Or maybe he was so bored out of his damn mind that even tormenting prisoners seemed like a good waste of his time.
Stryker insisted he stay put, not wanting to risk such a ‘valuable asset’, as he put it. A not-so-subtle way of saying he wanted to keep an eye on him and make sure he didn’t go out hunting for Logan, or Wolverine as he seemed to be calling himself these days. Now he was forced to wander aimlessly through the facility with nothing to do until Stryker had an assignment for him or until Logan showed up. God damn Wolverine.
It had a ring to it. Wolverine. Kind of catchy. Maybe he should invent an alias, something that would get his intent across right away. Victor Creed didn’t exactly scream ‘dangerous’ or ‘better start running or you’re going to die’, no he needed something intimidating ... something catchy. Juggernaut? No ... too obvious. Sinister? No, too cliché.
..... Damn, this was harder than it seemed.
Maybe another time. Right now he was bored again.
The boy was fun to taunt for a while but it was too tame, there was only so much he could do when limited by bars. Only so much he could watch of his squirming before he wanted to get in closer and finish what he had started. That boy who had damn near taken his head off with those fucking eyes of his. He hadn’t expected them to be so powerful. It was almost frightening to watch, an emotion he wasn’t used to. He had been so angry he had almost crushed the kid’s skull, or bitten him, whichever came first.
The boy was helpless now. Neutered. Creed almost felt sorry for the kid, what with that big chunk of metal on his scrawny face. Almost. More than anything he wanted to go back there and tear a chunk out of his hide.
None of the other mutants could hold his interest. They were each powerful in their own right and all had been a bitch to catch but something about the laser beam eyes caught his fancy. The way he had run. Maybe even the way he had squirmed underneath him once the chase was over. Yes, the blind boy was by far the most fun.
So much more fun than walking through boring hallways in a boring military compound with a pack of boring scientists doing boring fucking experiments. Compared to that, taunting the kid was as much fun as ... well, raiding a village.
If only he could get him out of that cage so they could spend some more ... quality time together.
... Victor was sure that could be arranged.
***********
When they came for him Scott fought them. He didn’t know where they were taking him but he knew it wasn’t going to be good so he fought with all he had. Kicking, punching and biting until they finally overwhelmed him.
The other mutants, unlike before, were shouting and screaming at the men taking him away. He could feel the force of their anger and their fear as icy winds kicked up and bars rattled and the most unnatural screeching drowned out everything until the guards started striking out at them.
“God damn mutants!” A man yelled, followed by the sound of a girl crying out in pain.
A different male voice, this one deeper: “Quick, over here! Stun that one!”
The rattling of the bars went silent and slowly the noise began to die down as the guards quickly squashed their little rebellion. Scott lay on the floor, panting. This time when the rough hands picked him up he didn’t struggle. He could feel the other watching him, pitying him and realizing that they would probably never see him again.
Scott had barely talked to any of the other mutants, or even seen their faces, but they were in this together. They were all going to share the same fate in the end but he knew they were thanking god it was him and not them.
He couldn’t blame them.
It was funny how one second he hated his cage and the next he wanted nothing more than to go back to it. When they left the prison room and passed into what sounded like a hallway the guards loosened their hold. One had his hand firmly planted on the visor over his eyes in case he tried to pull it off, but other than that, they weren’t afraid. Compared to some of the others he was currently as weak as a baby.
Nobody spoke as he was hustled to another area of the compound and finally deposited in a room.
Scott heard the door close with a heavy, metallic thud. He jumped and stood there for a moment, straining his ears. Were they going to kill him? Thoughts of gas chambers filled his head and Scott held his arms out and stumbled towards the door. He made contact with the cold metal; everything about this place was cold, but his numbed hands frantically traced the room, searching for a crack, a window, anything. His questing fingers found nothing, only a toilet and sink combination (prison issued) and a mattress on the floor, not even a cot, just a thin mattress with no blankets.
The room was small, almost as small as his cage had been; fully metal with no windows ... in short, it was a hell hole.
Scott slumped down on the mattress and was surprised to find himself choking up. He didn’t want to be caged anymore; he just wanted to go home. He wanted to be able to see again. He wanted to be warm.
Huddling against the wall, Scott curled up as best he could against the chilly metal and tried not to think about what was going to happen next.
He didn’t have to wait long.
The door opened with the screech of metal on metal.
Scott tensed, waiting for something to happen. Someone entered the room, closing the door behind them with a very ‘final’ sounding thud.
The footsteps came closer and Scott shrunk against the wall.
“Miss me?”
Oh god, him, anyone but him. They put him in a room and left him alone with that ... thing. He was dead, he was so dead. When those clawed hands gripped his upper arm and dragged him up Scott tried his best to stay curled up, dangling like a puppet from the monsters grip. The man didn’t have any patience for his resistance and shook him until his arm felt like it was going to come out of its socket.
Scott quickly gained his feet and fell against the man. God, his chest was like a brick wall. He quickly jumped away.
“Guess not.” The deep voice laughed while taking his other arm into a firm grip and backing him against the wall.
“Let me go. Please.” Scott said. His voice refused to come out as anything more than a whisper.
“Now why would I go and do a thing like that?”
************
This kid was funny. The second Victor stepped into the room he could smell the fear. He watched the boy tremble and shrink back as he moved closer. When he revealed his identity, well, that was priceless. Victor grabbed the kid, intending to get him on his feet, and shook him like a rag doll when he refused to stand.
It was when the boy fell against him that Victor’s interest really started to peak. The cringing kid backed away and Victor used that momentum to push him against the wall and grab his other arm. When the thin face turned away and pleaded to be let go Victor felt his mouth split into a wide grin. How ... charming.
“Now why would I go and do a thing like that?” He asked, leaning close and burying his nose in that scrawny neck. The kid shouted and kicked, obviously thinking the worst. The thought of ripping his throat out was tempting but that would just be a waste. There was so much more he could do in the meantime.
Victor took a deep breath and inhaled the kids scent.
What an odd scent. Not strange so much as different. It was very ... clean. The kid smelled brand new, not rugged and worn like the scents he had become accustom to, but young and fresh. When you ran in the circles Victor did, youth and innocence were few and far between, he couldn’t remember the last time he had been this close to someone who didn’t reek of hate and murder. Not that Victor had anything against hate and murder, but all the same, this scent was ... delicious.
He took another whiff, nuzzling the flesh of the boys’ neck. God, this kid was soft.
The boy had fallen silent under him, not exactly relaxed but not frantic, as Victor took his time. It was only when he licked a long trail up the side of the kids’ face that the boy suddenly smashed his forehead into Victor’s nose and wriggled away while the man blinked in surprised.
“So, you aren’t completely tame.” Victor laughed, watching closely as the boy stood and tried to look defiant even as his forehead was turning red. “What is your name, kid?”
The boy looked surprised at the question and blurted out before he thought better of it: “Scott Summers. Who are you?”
Scott Summers. Victor snorted in amusement. A pretty boy name. “That isn’t important, Scott.” The boy didn’t look happy when Victor used his name. “Do you know why you’re here?”
Scott looked uncertain. “Because I’m a mutant.”
“Well, that’s obvious. I didn’t take you for thrills, now did I? Do you know why you’re in here and all the other mutants are out there?”
Now the kid was looking scared again. “No.”
“You’re not useful anymore. That’s why. You’ve served your purpose. The higher ups were going to use you as a test bunny. They were going to cut you open, look at your insides, stick needles in you and find out what makes you tick.” Scott didn’t react aside from going slightly pale. “But you’re so much fun. I requested you and they gave you to me. Do you hear me, Scott? You’re mine, to play with, to hunt ... to kill.” Now the thin body was shivering and the kid looked like he wanted to sit down. Victor moved closer and grabbed those narrow shoulders. “When I’m through with you I’m going to take you out into the woods where no one can hear you scream, I’m going to let you run and then I’m going to hunt you.”
Scott finally released a choked sob and sank to the floor. Victor let him and smiled down at the small crumpled form. There were going to have so much fun together.
************
For three days the man had been coming to him at all hours of the day. There wasn’t any sort of pattern to it; sometimes he came in the morning, sometimes while he was eating, sometimes while he was sleeping. Scott got chills whenever he remembered that night, waking up with that man straddling him, not doing anything, just looking at him. Scott had lain, pinned under that large body for what seemed like hours until the man simply got up and walked away.
At least he had a blanket now. It had appeared while he was asleep, a thick, warm blanket, not at all like the thin, scratchy one that he had used in the cage.
It seemed as if maybe being locked in this room wasn’t quite as bad as he had thought. He hadn’t been hurt or experimented on, he was even getting used to not being able to see, and it didn’t bother him so much anymore. He almost preferred it. If he had been able to see that man’s vicious face, baring his fangs at him all the time, Scott would probably be more afraid then he currently was.
The worst part about it all was the boredom. Hours went by where Scott would simply sit and rock back and forth and back and forth or pace the room. It was maddening; he almost looked forward to those visits, if only because they relieved the monotony of sitting in a small metal room. He hadn’t given up trying to escape but even he could admit to himself that it looked hopeless. It had been explained to him that the rooms were mutant-proof; there was a metal called adamantium that coated the walls. He couldn’t break through if he tried ... which he had.
It had also been explained that any retaliation on his part against any member of the staff would result in his being ‘put down’.
Scott was well and truly stuck.
He sighed and banged his head against the wall.
Then the door burst open with a metallic scream. Scott jumped and stood. Familiar clawed hands grabbed him and threw him against the wall with a sickening force. Scott cried out and punched at the man and was quickly holding a bloody nose for his effort.
The furious man was snarling like a beast as he began slamming Scott against the wall over and over until he lost all sense, sprawling in the creature’s grip and clawing uselessly at his arm.
“Do you know who was here today?” Scott didn’t answer. “Logan, that’s who! Wolverine.” Another slam. “He came in here like he owned the god damn place. He ruined all our work! Broke all the computers, dismantled - or should I say, dismembered the weapon. It’s going to take months to fix what he destroyed. Months! I’m going to half to wait fucking months before I can finally be on equal ground with that clawed bastard!” The man threw him down with a disgusted snarl. “Do you know what he said to me? ‘You’re a joke, Creed’! A joke? Me? After all I’ve done, all we’ve been through and he calls me a joke!”
An angry howl filled the room and it sounded as if the man, Creed, was attacking the walls.
“Look at that! Not even a scratch. How the hell am I supposed to fight against adamantium? Logan ruined everything!” He roared and began punching the wall over and over until Scott could hear bones breaking and soft, wet splatters on the ground. He felt sick, trapped alone with a raging psychopath that was currently mutilating himself with a metal wall.
It stopped after far too long and the only sound left was harsh panting and the drip, drip of falling blood, both from Creed and Scott’s nose.
“Fuck. I messed up your face. Come here.”
Scott didn’t move.
“I said come here or I’ll tear your god damn arm off!”
Scott moved. Climbing shakily to his feet and letting his unwilling legs carry him towards the last place in the world he wanted to be. Creed pulled him close and roughly wiped the blood off his face. It throbbed and he pulled his head away.
“Hold still. I’ll show you a trick I picked up.” Scott felt a strange warm liquid being spread across his face. It took him a horror filled moment to realize it was blood. Creed’s blood. He was smearing it across his cheeks and nose. “Don’t look so damn sick, it will help. Nifty little trick, eh? I discovered it in Vietnam, after bullets tore half my face off, I was bleeding all over that soldier and surprise, surprise, his wounds began to heal. Of course he couldn’t heal from decapitation but it works just fine on bruises. Don’t tell Wolverine, eh? Idiot still hasn’t realized it.” Creed chuckled darkly, seemingly in a much better mood.
Scott realized with some surprise that has face had stopped throbbing and didn’t feel sore anymore. Creed’s blood had done its work.
“There. Wouldn’t want to disfigure that pretty face now would we?” Creed bent over and began slowly lapping up the blood from Scott’s face, running his hot, wet tongue over his cheeks and nose and chin. Even his mouth. Scott didn’t dare move. Violence was one thing; this was something completely different, something worse. The man’s beard scratched his face uncomfortably as Creed’s tongue finished its work ... but it didn’t stop, running over his mouth and then suddenly his claws bit into his neck and Scott gasped. Creed’s tongue entered his mouth.
Scott’s head was tilted back and cradled in now gentle hands as the man began exploring him thoroughly. It felt strange, that was all he could think of as he stood submissively and let the man do things to him he had only even though he would do with a girl. Maybe ‘let’ was a deceptive word. It was the lesser of the two evils; if he fought he knew Creed would take what he wanted anyways but he would be cruel and hurt him on purpose just to teach him a lesson. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want to be used like a blow up doll and he didn’t want to be cut and bruised while Creed pushed the boundaries of what intimacies he could force on him.
So he gave in, praying Creed wouldn’t take it further.
He didn’t. Scott almost sighed in relief when Creed withdrew his tongue and backed away. His mouth felt bruised and sticky and he wanted to wipe his mouth but he didn’t.
“You want to know something funny? Wolverine took the other mutants with him. Good thing I had the sense to put you in here or you’d be long gone by now.” Scott’s mouth trembled, the only sign he gave of how those words hurt him. “Don’t get comfortable, we’re leaving soon.”
Creed left and Scott ran to the sink and scrubbed his mouth clean, trying to ignore the tears that were soaking into the cloth around his eyes.
*************
Victor couldn’t get the kid out of his head. Ever since that kiss he had been thinking of nothing but Scott fucking Summers. He never though in his wildest dreams he’d be fixed on a boy, and such a weak thing too. He had taken plenty of people before, women, girls, all types and all races, even the occasional man, just for kicks. They had all meant nothing; he usually killed them after, preferring not to have to listen to their screaming and crying when he had more important things to do.
So why Scott Summers? Was it because he was a mutant? No, he had taken mutants before. He wasn’t even that attractive, all sharp angles and gangly limbs. He had been with beautiful women before with curves to die for. Scott Summers was nothing to them so why couldn’t he stop thinking about him and all the things he wanted to do to him?
Damn it.
Enough. There was only one way to solve this.
Victor strode through the new halls of the facility. They were back in Canada and hidden deep in the wilderness where there were no prying eyes. Scott hadn’t adjusted well to the move even though he was in a bigger cell with a window and Victor had even been kind enough to provide him with a heater.
He reached the cell door and strode in. The kid was immediately on alert but by this time he knew the drill and stood on his own, waiting for Victor to make the first move.
Victor simply studied him. The kid looked worn and on edge. Maybe a breath of fresh air wouldn’t hurt. Even he was getting tired of the grey walls and hard floors.
“Follow me.” The kid looked surprised and hesitated before shuffling forward. Victor left the room and the boy followed as best he could, bumping into walls and stumbling. Finally he reached out and found a hold which just happened to be the sleeve of Victor’s jacket. They both paused for a moment, assessing the situation, before Victor began moving again with the gentle tug of the boy clutching his right sleeve.
He was surprised he didn’t mind.
They reached the outdoors soon enough and when Scott’s feet finally hit the earth Victor could smell his happiness. The strange scent made him tingle slightly. They walked further until out of sight of the compound and Victor finally stopped him at the grassy edge of the nearby lake and shook the boys hold off.
Scott stood, breathing deeply and with an expression of almost bliss on his face. The wind ruffled his hair and slowly he kicked off his shoes and dug his bare feet into the grass. Victor watched this without an expression, not sure what to think as the boy tilted his head and listened then slowly crouched down and scooted his way to the water. When he reached the water’s edge he extended a hand and dipped his fingers in, swirling them around and letting them run through the mud. He looked content, almost like he had forgotten Victor was there.
Victor let him have his fun for a few minutes before taking him by the collar and dragging him back onto the grass.
“Are ... are you going to hunt me now?”
Victor blinked. He had all but forgotten he had promised to do that. It seemed Scott had not.
“No. Not today.”
Scott looked confused and then seemed to shrink in on himself, knowing what was going to happen next. Victor frowned. He was getting predictable.
He knelt down at the boys’ level, still towering over him, and began unzipping his jacket. It was only after Victor had removed his shirt and pushed the kid down on the grass that the docile facade broke. Scott pushed against him with all his strength.
“Don’t! Please ... I-I can’t. I can’t do this.”
Victor ignored his protests and pinned him down, completely covering the smaller body with his own and leaned down to growl in his ear. “This is going to happen whether you want it to or not. The only choice you have is if we are doing this easy or hard, so make up your mind.”
Scott’s mouth moved but no words came out and his body vibrated with tension. Finally he choked out. “Don’t hurt me. God, don’t hurt me. Not like that, please, I’ll do anything. Please, anything you want.”
“This is what I want.” Victor simply whispered in his ear.
The kid cried as Victor hooked his claws on the waistband of his pants and tugged. That was the final straw, Victor had finally broke him down and the kid suddenly let out all the fear and worry of the past weeks and began sobbing like a child.
Victor recoiled at the sudden outburst, watching in morbid fascination as the kid curled up, burying his face in the grass and shaking. Strange, how his body was suddenly paralyzed by this boy’s, this child’s, frantic rejection of him. He didn’t need the kids’ approval or consent so why was he unable to continue?
“Son of a bitch,” Victor cursed, backing off and walking to stand at the lake’s edge. He listened closely to the boy as he sniffled and shuffled around, searching the ground for his shirt and jacket. It was a good while before the boy had fully composed himself and the sniffling and hiccupping became steady breathing. It was even longer before Victor could face the boy. He knew the kid couldn’t see him but he was ... embarrassed. Embarrassed and ashamed in a way he hadn’t been in many years. Only Logan had ever stirred those emotions in him and now this kid had managed to do the same.
He didn’t like feeling ashamed. He had no reason to be ashamed, he was what he was. It was in his nature. If he wanted to fight, he fought; if he wanted to kill, he killed; if he wanted to fuck ... damn cyclops looking kid stopped him with a few tears, what was wrong with him?
“Thank you.”
Victor stopped his inner monologue and turned to face Scott who was standing now, face still slightly flushed. “We’re going back.”
He grabbed the kid by his jacket and hauled him back to the compound. Scott followed without a word, stumbling and tripping until Victor grew sick of it and threw him over his shoulder. Once back in the cell Victor dropped him to the floor, turned on his heel and left without a backwards glace.