Tuesday, September 18, 2012
New Beginning 971
"What did I ever see in Jace Mingo?" The thought passed through Logan's mind as he regarded the figure cowering in the cell, the once fine silk suit threadbare, filthy, the shoes holey, his hands a mass of dried blood from scraping the gratings of his cell, a gaunt face, rodent-like beard. The man who would be, the once and future, the master of rebels, defender of humanity, now fallen and defeated by his own devices.
"He's not eating sir. Do you want us to force feed him?" the guard asked.
"Why? He wants death which is forbidden but he will not be denied," Logan said. He hated Federal Prison, hated dealing with the rebels, hated that they viewed conversion as defeat and death as victory. Life and death weighed his conscience. He held it dear and kept it close. There would be no slaughter.
He closed the door's view port and walked the metal hallway to the Judge's Chambers. The new boots gave better traction but being metal and lacking rubber soles, he clanked. A constant audible reminder of his inhuman newness augmented the whirring of motors, the soft gush of hydraulics, the sameness of their metal bodies.
"Why, Logan?" Mingo's wavering voice echoed against the aluminum walls. Logan stopped and listened. "Why do you do this to me? We were friends. Close. Closer than friends, Logan. I gave you energy when your power was gone, and this is how you repay me?"
Tiny pneumatics hissed as Logan rolled his eyes. He turned and shuffled back to the viewport, mimicking the gait of a man in pain.
"Why?" Logan said, recalling the humiliation. "Point one, Jace Mingo, that is not where my batteries go. And point two, Jace Mingo, that was not a fucking battery."
Opening: Dave F......Continuation: Anon.