MEETING THE FACE OF EVIL || HAMISH

[Vaughan Rees]

OPEN fear is an absolute driving force

He'd already known he was here. Actually, it was one of the reasons he chose to work here as a guard. It was the reason he'd built himself up to it rather than starting young. He was new to the job, but he was talented. He was strong, understood how mutants worked, and was willing to do the dirty work if need be... and he was ready- or so he told himself- to face his brothers. However, walking down the long rows of cells was unnerving, even as he hummed a small tune. The shadows looming around him made his muscles twitch. He wanted to run, but another part of him laughed at the idea that he could actually run fast enough. There was no way. He'd be engulfed by those shadows until nothing was left of him but an unrecognizable pile of... Well, he didn't want to think about it. He had to focus on the task at hand. He just wanted to see him. Maybe that would ease his concerns? After hearing how he was the Underground's best fighter in the Arena it both came as no surprise and only served to make his stomach churn so much that he'd lost his breakfast before coming here. How many had he left bleeding on that arena floor? Without caring about a single one of them... Mutants really were monsters. One of the cells up ahead seemed brighter than the others. No doubt Hamish's cell. Apparently they tried to keep it lit enough that the shadows in the room were minimal, not that it made Vaughan feel any safer. He whole-heartedly believed the man only needed one chance and a tiny shadow to kill him. That was all it would take. That was all the man needed. In a flash he'd be spewing blood from his throat all over the walls. Would Hamish be happy to see him go? ... Did he even remember who he was? He stopped his humming as he reached the cell, peering in. To be honest, he was surprised. The man in there didn't look as ferocious as he'd been expecting. He was practically skin and bones, but definitely taller than he recalled. Likely taller than Vaughan, even... No, definitely taller than him. He even still had that fiery red hair. Vaughan wondered if he retained his freckles, too. He remembered when they were younger and he would unceremoniously connect the dots on his baby brother just before his mother came rushing over to snatch the marker out of his hands. Back then it had been fun. Back then he'd believed his brother was human, and everything was still okay. He was safe, he had a baby brother, and nothing in the world could ruin that. He clenched his hands into tight fists, easing out a shuddering breath. No amount of happy memories could drive away the one that shook the very foundation of his belief in family. The fight. A stupid fight between children. The darkness slipping past him in a flash, and suddenly there was red being spit out from his chest and a sudden searing pain. He remembered waking up in the hospital and seeing the shadows creeping across the ceiling in the dimly lit room from the small lamp that was there. He remembered screaming and flailing, pulling out his IV and popping stitches as he tried to get away. That fear stuck with him for years, and it still controlled a good portion of his life. "For all the hype," he suddenly spoke up, eyes never leaving the man, "You're not much to look at." Stand firm. Stand strong. Don't let him see you're shaking. And above all else, if he doesn't remember who you are... don't let him.

[Hamish A. Stuart]

Word Count: 609

Tags: Vaughan Rees

Coming and going, guards arrived each year believing they could change the world. Bright and starry eyed children walking into a hell house that never before was revealed to them during the months of training. Time spent telling them how to handle mutants out of control only for them to find beasts locked in cages as if they were on display in a zoo. A zoo was less terrifying.

No this zoo was filled of humanoid creatures, some appearing starved and others seemed to be as helpless as children. Nothing could prepare most for the difference in the pictures shown and what they met in the underground.

Practically living in the arena, Hamish had a face known to these guards. Images from his matches sometimes made it into the training making humans believe they would be some sort of heroic being that vanquished monsters.

Humans were foolish.

At first Hamish remembered each new recruit being paraded around, told the names of mutants along with warn who caused trouble. During his first year in his cell guards learned of Hamish's personality, the cruelty that would greet all guards. A newbie had come close to his cell only to be met with spit to the face. Without long many were brought to his cell, frightening the newbies seemed to be his own personal job. After guards began to shy away the guards gave up their tours. New guards left after mere months when they couldn't stomach the mutants faced with. Many choosing to move to the school instead. The few that remained of each batch were worth learning the name of. It seemed they would be a new decoration for his personal hell.

It was worth learning which guards would give in to his demands and which would believe a display in control would earn them any respect. Being one of the favored in the arena guards were instructed to keep the mutant above a certain weight.
Being placed on a scale once a month he noticed how some would pale seeing his weight. Proof it had declined once again. Whenever this was the case Hamish found himself dreading as he would be moved where he could be observed. Forced at times to eat the food he gave away in hopes of improving his condition.

Guards were warned of the importance of keeping certain mutants in shape but Hamish seemed the singular being that caused trouble.

Even with it being summer time the cells were far too cold for Hamish. His body held hardly any fat and just about as much muscle. Thin sheets were cruel with how they failed to warm anything wrapped in them. Blankets were a false promise in this land. Instead the ginger sat with his head against the bars, forest green eyes staring off into oblivion. Had he not often done this some might believe his corpse sat in the cell.

Turning his head to see the dark haired male there was a curiosity that came as this unnamed guard stood before him. "Nae sure whit th' ither guards tellt ye bit ah'ament offering a guid time. Feck off." Running his fingers over the small shadows his body created his allowed his eyes to fade to black. Starting at the corners ink appeared to be engulfing all the white before swallowing the green as well. Black mirrors allowed Vaughan to see his own reflection.

"Ah wid ask yer name bit it appears ye wilnae lest lang." There were few shadows to use but Hamish could make do. A black split tongue moved over his lips slowly as if the human brought out a hunger in him.

template made by MISSO for use only by DEE