You Can Drag Me Through Hell

I nibble down on my dry, cracked bottom lip as I take in the room I am being confined in. I try to adjust myself, letting out a hiss from tight hand cuffs wrapped around my wrists, keeping them locked to the large steel table. I can tell this is an old and run down interrogation room, the white paint is hanging off the walls exposing the grey concrete beneath it and the cracked black concrete floors that have seen better days.

I look forward, seeing my own reflection staring back at me. I raise an eyebrow and tilt my head, wondering who is watching me through the double sided mirror. My black mascara and eye liner have smudged, causing panda eyes. My lips are cracked and there is a cut on my upper lip, from the brut forced used to capture me. My ribs are also tender from the manoeuvres used earlier in the day.

I close my eyes and calm my breathing, using the relaxing techniques drilled into me. I refuse to lose control, I refuse to let them win and let them see me as the monster I have already been painted in their eyes. I take a breathe in and hold it for five seconds before releasing it through my nose. However I am ripped back into reality as the hinges on the door screaming loudly, alerting me to the new arrivals.

A woman enters the room with a solider behind her, both with emotionless facials and a gun glued to his hands. The door slams behind them and her heels click loudly in the dead silent room, making me cringe. The woman throws a thick file onto the table, my name is on the cover along with confidential in large red letters.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she stands above me, wanting to show her power over me before she exclaims in a monotone, "Olivia, you've been difficult to track down."

“I would assume that is the point in hiding for the last few years," I mumble, looking her up and down.

There is no emotion on her face, as she watches me intently. Her hair is very short, curly and black, dark chocolate complexion covered with no make up, only with red lip stick. White pearls draped around her neck and dressed in an expensive navy blue pants suit with a white shirt.

Unimpressed with my response, she cuts to the chase, "You are in a lot of trouble, you have committed murder and will do so again. Merely a matter of time with your kind."

"My kind? What the fuck are you getting at?" I snarl at her before I whisper softy in attempt to explain, "I never wanted to hurt anyone, I just.."

"Just what Olivia? All you metahumans are the same, you lose control and that results in death. Then it is my job to clean up after you," she cuts me off.

“Who are you? What do you want from me?” I mumble, looking away from her and focusing on the guy. He has dark circles under his eyes standing out against his pale skin and short black hair. I read the name ‘Flag’ on his shirt.

"My name is Amanda Waller and I am giving you the chance to do the right thing. I am assembling a task force and your little gift is required," she states as she opens the folder and turns it towards me. I cringe at the pictures showing the damage and death I caused three years ago in my home town.

"It is time to right your wrongs Olivia," she offers, although I know there is no choice in the matter; she will not allow that. I take a deep breathe to let this all sink in.

"What is this team force being assembled for?" I question her, looking away from the pictures trying to blink away the tears and guilt forming.

Raising an eyebrow, she exclaims, "In a world full of monsters, I need to protect our country. You will have the opportunity to amend your wrongs and ensure no humans will suffer."

"Okay," I agree hesitantly as I decide maybe I can do some good. Before I can question further, the door opens and medical people enter the room.

A man roughly pushes my head to the side, exposing my neck while the other man demands, "hold still, this won't hurt a bit." I squeal as a needle is rammed into my neck, my respiration and heart rate increase. Crackling and popping sounds begin to fill the room, I can feel the electricity starting to flowing inside my body, like sparks of energy.

"Remain calm Olivia, or we will sedate you," Amanda orders in a monotone as the guy next to her points the gun at me, ready to kill me.

"What the fuck was that huh?" I snarl, as electricity bolts start coming out of my hands and fingertips, making little sparks and shocks.

Smirking, she informs me, "Nano bomb. We need a way to ensure you're controlled at all times. If you disobey or try to escape, you will die. Now, enough of this nonsense. We don't have time, the rest of your team is waiting."



I follow behind Colonel Rick Flag, the guy who was pointing the gun at me earlier. He is the lucky man who can decide if he wants to blow my head off. Thankfully, before Amanda left, she allowed me to change clothes and clean my self up; no more panda eyes. My hair is a fishtail braid, tangling over my shoulder which I play with nervously, not knowing what to accept.

I lick my lips as we approach a group of soldiers, the stand to attention Colonel Rick. He nods his head at the men before he begins to bark orders. I eye up the man to my left, he is retiring my glaze.

“Lieutenant Edwards, this is Olivia,” Colonel introduces us which causes a smile to form on Edwards lips and blush on my cheeks.

I cannot deny that Edward is a very attractive man, he well styled dark brown hair and beard only enhance his chiseled jaw. He stretches out to shake my hand which I happily accept. However the smile and the hand drops as the Colonel informs him, “She is apart of Task Force X, one of the metahumans. He is your charge for the mission.”

My stomach sinks, seeing that look form on his face; another person that has already painted me as a monster. Sighing heavily, it dawns on me that this will be the normal reaction. Nodding his head, he replies to Colonel, “Rodger.”

Turning his attention to me with a straight face, he instructs, “Follow me.”