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'My Corduroyed Life' - Mark A's Journal
I woke up with an absolutely excruciating headache, and could hardly move through the pain. It was cold, and I didn't like it. Suddenly the room was a lot warmer and I was sweating. I looked around, and I was in a small room with painted bricking, a metal bed, a large metal door, and a metal bin. Nothing else.
I then realised that I couldn't remember my name. Or anything about myself in fact. I touched my chest and found out that I was a man. I touched my head and found that my head was completely shaved and that I had horrible scars across the top of my head.
I tried to get up and walk, but I passed out due to the pain and slumped to the floor.
I was awoken by a crash, still in almost intolerable pain. Shortly after, I heard voices outside the door. It was all that I could do to bang on my door and cry for help. Once again, I passed out because of the pain.
I was woken up by a girl, probably mid-twenties, who was wearing the same style jump suit as me. She was number 7; I was number 12. Behind her, looking on, was number 11. I asked where I was, but they made it clear that they didn't know anything more than me. Their headaches had gone when they'd discovered something frightening.
7 could move things with the power of her mind; 11 could teleport. They had the same scarring as me, so I guessed that I had something I could do too, but I just couldn't think what it might be. I picked up a metal bin for a weapon whilst I figured it out. I didn't think I'd be much use with it though as my head was still verging on the intolerable. It was cold to touch. Suddenly, the thing melted in my hand, and my headache was slightly relieved.
The three of us were pretty scared of what we were all capable of, but we experimented with how good we were. 7's telekenisis capabilities were staggeringly accurate and powerful. 12 could flit around teleporting like he was merely walking. I found that I could heat things of any size to any temperature that I wanted with just a thought.
The research centre (which is what we assumed it was) was deserted except for dead guards. Some of our similarly effected colleagues had obviously gone haywire because these deaths were anything but natural. Bodies torn to shreds or burnt to a cinder.
To cut a long story, we escaped our basement prison to the surface, and were accosted by Police, Army, and SWAT teams. We defeated them. Not only did we defeat them, but we defeated them spectacularly and didn't actually kill any of them. We left in a Police car.
After robbing a Burton's in London and clothing ourselves a little more normally, we ended up robbing a bank in Leeds, and highjacking a plane in Birmingham.
None of us can remember our names or our past. All we know is that we have power. Real power.
As it is at the moment, we have just landed in Cuba, and we've got a welcoming party of 20 armed men. The idea was to just live here in peace. Perhaps that isn't going to happen...
Oh, I SO love roleplaying!
Have fun,
M x
PS: Madhouse con write up, and my monthly review on their way asap.
Current mood:
good.Current music: Zeroes and Ones by Jesus Jones.