The metal of the soldier's rifle hit D's nose with a crack, and his head hit the wall behind him with a boom. Writhing against the pain, he felt a gush of blood run down his face. He closed his mouth—trying to keep the blood out. It also kept him from screaming.
After a few moments, he reopened his mouth—only to taste the blood on his lips. After a minute, the pain became more bearable. He felt pain all over his face, possibly a broken nose, and he was now covered in more blood.
D looked up at the soldier.
He looked into the black reflective visor of the soldier and got a glimpse of his own bloody and broken face. While looking into his own pained expression. He saw his eyes, and more importantly, he saw they were their natural light gray color—his contacts were gone.
The soldier stood there silent as a shadow, looking down at him. D kept looking up at him, mouth shut, but his eyes had a fire in them. These bastards reached into his eyes and took his contacts. Sure, they were cheap, and he knew how to get more, but that's not what bothered him. What bothered him was the invasion of his privacy and his body. The horrific fact he was out cold, and these people could've done anything to him.
He was sick to his stomach at the thought.
Once the soldier was sure D had stopped screaming, he turned away, lowering his gun. He began walking back when a few seconds later a loud yawn came from the sleeping giant next to D. Everyone who was awake watched the soldiers warily, as if they could feel the soldier's patience waning. The soldier got back up with rifle in hand and speed walked back over to where the man sat.
They yanked the bag off the man's head and threw it on the ground before walking away.
The man's hair was short with buzzed sides, and ash blonde coloring. His irises were a cold light blue color, and he had a long bandage going from the bottom of his ear to his chin.
He looked around as his eyes adjusted to the bright lights on the ceiling. When he turned his gaze in D's direction, he saw his bloodied face. This quickly caused his eyes went from tired to concerned.
"My goodness, what happened to you?" The blonde man asked with a look of genuine concern. The man had an accent D couldn't quite place. His accent wasn't strong, but it was noticeable.
D was looking up at the ceiling and blinking rapidly. He was trying to clear the tears in his eyes so he looked like less of a wimp. He also tilted his head back to make the blood go back into his nose.
He put on his best tough guy impression and said,"It's a bit of leakage—he sniffled—You should've seen the other guy. He didn't get off as easy as me."
The blonde man flashed a smile and the look of concern disappeared as he said "It's like my dad used to say, it's the scars that make the man, ikke sant?" (Norwegian phrase for 'Right?')
He gave a nervous smile back and said. "I have no clue what those last two or three words you said were, but regardless, you gotta listen to me, man."
He moved his head closer and whispered. "You and I are the only normal people on this whole damn plane. We gotta get out of here." He said as he glared at the soldier.
The giant was grinning as he said. "Oh, come on, I'm certain they are nice people once get to know them." He flashed another smile and continued. "In a place like this, people can be hostile, you know?"
D looked at him—shocked he could say such a thing. "Dude, all I did was ask where are we, and where are we going and that got me this wonderful piece of art," he said as he pointed to his nose with eyes.
The woman with red and black hair cut into their conversation with a scoff as she said.
"The screaming, the bitching, the second round of screaming, and worst of all, the fucking smell".
D was mentally preparing to start another screaming match with her—when his nose throbbed like it was telling him to shut up. Before D could figure out something nasty, he could say to her that wouldn't get him hit, or worse.
The blonde man calmly turned his head to her, smiled, and said.
"It'll be okay if we're all stuck in these seats till we get there." His eyes briefly flicked over to the already annoyed soldier.
"I don't know you two that well, but I know we'll get through this together."
D stared at the man and saw how genuine he seemed. For a few seconds, D tried to think of some nasty thing to say, but the blonde man's words had gotten to him a little.
"I got to agree with you with Tank-top. Our best bet for surviving this shit show is to work together." The blonde man looked around slightly confused.
"Who's this tank top you keep talking about?" he cut off as he finally glimpsed his shirt. The blonde laughed a hearty laugh. "Ohhh, you mean me. Well, that is fitting, but my real name is Max." He instinctively attempted to move his arm over to shake D's hand, forgetting it was bound.
D offered a small smile back. "Well…Max it's nice to meet you. I'm De-". He cut off, his tongue caught on a painful memory, as he thought about his father's disgusting blood still staining his arms. "I'm D. It's uhhh nice to meet you, Max."
"It's nice to meet you too," Max said as he looked over D at the woman chewing her gum and said.
"How about the lovely miss? Does she have a name?"
She stopped chewing her gum, but still not looking at them as she said. "Roxanne" and went back to chewing.
"D, Roxy, and Max!" Max said triumphantly.
D and Roxanne, in unison without realizing it, side-eyed Max in a way that showed they thought the same thing.
This guy might be crazy.
Wanting to move past the idea of being 'friends' with the devil woman on his left.
D changed the subject of the conversation back to information gathering. "So, Max, do you know where we're going?"
Max tilted his head, and a slightly confused expression appeared on his face. "Wait, is this not the transport to Blackthorn?" He looked around at the other people, an edge of concern shone in his eyes.
D, even more confused, stammered. "Ummm I-"
Roxanne cut him off "It is."
She said, finally looking over at the two men with her bored, and half-open eyes showing pinkish-red irises. Finally getting a good look at her face, and particularly the glow in her eyes.
D's mind had what he thought was great a realization.
"Ohhhh I get it now." he threw his head back in realization. "this must be how they do prison transport for Glowers, duh everyone in this thing has powers."
D looked over to Roxanne, a cool and confident (dorky) grin plastered on his face as he asked. "So, what'd you do to get thrown into 'BlackThorn', Roxy?"
She turned to him, a look of disbelief, disgust, and disdain on her face.
"One, call me 'Roxy' again and I'll sew your mouth shut. Two, the same thing everyone else did, I got noticed or applied"
"Applied?" D asked, thinking it was a part of some joke. "Who applies to go to prison? Yeah, let me just walk up to a police station and say 'I'd like twenty to life please'?"
"Prison?" Max and Roxanne both said in near unison.
Roxanne swallowed her gum, sick of chewing it, and said, "Who said anything about prison? I mean, if you get homesick easy I guess it's a prison." She shrugged.
Max joined in, "I bet it will be fun, and four years goes by faster than you think."
D sighed and looked up at the lights lining the ceiling of the plane. "You're lucky you got four years. I'll be lucky if I don't get the damn electric chair."
Max, once again confused, said, "Right, yeah, hopefully not but y-".
A loud buzzer came from the plane's intercom system.
"ETA 30 minutes."
The other quiet conversations on the plane grew louder, and D felt his stomach drop. A mix of fear and adrenaline were the only things keeping fear away, and he was out of both. The reality of spending the rest of his life behind bars was dreadful.
"Man, I just hope the food isn't that bad, y'know?" D said as he continued staring at the ceiling.
"My mom said it was decent when she was here, but that was a while ago," Max said, looking directly at D.
"Hmm, I bet man," D replied, not listening. Max was eager to see what D was looking at on the ceiling also for a few moments before asking with a straight face.
"So, what are your guy's powers?" D made a mocking gasp. "You can't just expect me to tell you that after we've just met, so scandalous, at least take me out to dinner first."
Max looked back at him sincerely and said.
"It is not a big of a deal. I have been friends with a few other supers and we told each other our powers." Max looked over to Roxanne, an idiot's grin on his square face.
"Nope." she said, not even looking at him.
He looked back to D. "Come on friends, I will tell you mine of course. I would show you but.." he looked down at the nullification cuffs holding down his wrists.
D sighed and looked at him. His face was full of exhaustion. "Yeah…alright look, you tell me yours and I'll THINK about telling you mine, deal?"
Max was practically jumping up and down in his seat. "Deal!" Max moved his head slightly closer to D so he, and maybe Roxanne, if she was listening, would hear. "I call it meta-matter, well my mom came up with the name. She was always the one who helped me with it."
He smiled slightly, a fond memory passing over his eyes. "It allows my body to change into any type of solid as long as I keep touching it."
D looked at Max up and down, as he tried to measure out how much he weighed. "Mhm, mmm, okay. Does it work with gold?"
Max's eyes rolled up as he scanned his memory and said. "Yes, it works with gold actually, a few years ago for Første juledag my dad had gotten me-"
D cut off the story before it got any longer as he said, "Hold up, hold up, I have the greatest get-rich-quick scheme ever, and all I need is one of your limbs."
They looked at each other for a long moment, trying to keep straight faces, till they both busted out into laughter. For D, it had been a long time since he'd shared a genuine laugh with another person. One that wasn't at his expense or theirs. The joy was so contagious he even saw Roxanne out of the corner of his now teary eyes crack a smile.
"Ahhh, so she knows how to smile after all," D said, fully expecting her to tell him off or hurl some insult. Instead, she made a smile too wide to be genuine, turned to him and looked at him fully, possibly for the first time.
She then said in a voice mocking his joy, "Yeah. let's share our most precious secrets to everyone on the plane for wannabe villains." Her false smile vanished from her face.
D, not backing down, turned to face her. "I ain't no villain, yeah I technically did a bad thing, but that doesn't mean I want to do it again or anything like that."
Roxanne looked at him, bewildered. "So we're 20 minutes away from the number one place on earth at teaching super villains, and now you suddenly change your mind? Sure."
D grinned and put on his mocking voice—"You're making this place sound like a real 'villain' learning experience, huh?"
Roxanne countered "Duh. Why else would you go to a university FOR villains?" D stopped grinning—his mind stood still, his face unmoving, and he said nothing for more than a few moments.
The two others looked at him.
They hadn't known him long, but he rarely was this quiet or still. He slowly turned his head towards Max, his eyes frozen, only his lips moving as he asked.
"Max…how old are you?"
Max, feeling something was off, answered seriously.
"Oh, I just turned 19 this past May. Why?"
With no sign of recognition, D immediately looked at Roxanne. His mind was too distant, too distracted to ask his question again.
So he let his eyes convey the question for him.
His deathly look made her feel slightly uneasy. It was like every piece of annoying energy zapped out of him at once. She
stammered for a second.
"I-I turn 20 in a few months." She said. D turned from her, his eyes frozen in front of him.
He was staring at nothing, but he also looked at everyone else seated in the restraints on the plane. All their eyes, all their faces. Not a single one looked any older than him, and not a single one looked any younger, either. He saw their eyes as well, all some sort of unusual shade, the same as his. Some were too bright, some were too different from the color of the average person.
His eyes fell to the floor. Every word he heard on this flight. Every moment of his life since he got thrown into that police car. Every moment since he became a murderer. Every moment mixed in his mind.
Applied...
Powers...
Soldiers...
Same ages...
Cops killed...
University…
the beat of the plane's engine was growing distant, the voices distant, his own voice…distant.
"So h..w ol.. .re you?" A voice asked.
"wh-what?" D said as he snapped back into the moment the surrounding sounds, back to their natural rhythm.
A familiar female repeated, "Um, hello. I asked how old are you? You can't be the only one asking questions."
"Oh… I'm 19 too." he finally looked up from the floor and over to Roxanne. Panic was overtaking his voice, as he said. "This isn't a prison transport, is it? Everyone here is the same age, and they all have powers, and this weird sword chick abducted me. Listen, man, I am NOT hear of my own free will. I didn't apply, and I thought this was some sort of new HALTECH transport system, but it's not. Roxanne, please, please tell me where are we going?"