Snippet #2182100

Everything was a haze. The anesthesia was a little too strong for an eight year old. Angel kept having the urge to look up at the lights, then reach out and touch them. "JOHN ISN'T WIMPY PUSHOVER!" she screamed to a scientist who passed by, clearly thinking about John. Angel's angered state soon turned back to fuzzes, flurries of motion lost in the drug that relaxed her. Her dopey smile and glazed over eyes made her look like a drug addict. She giggled a little, and then burst out laughing, not really knowing why.

But as time faded, she became grumpier. And angrier, and still a little sick. She was coiled up and ready to pounce. The dinky cage was setting her on edge, and all the cruel torturous thoughts of the scientists were driving her mad. If she didn't get out in the next fifteen minutes, she would make someone kill themselves. Literally. By using her mind. In fact, just as a scientist passed by, she gritted her teeth and entered his mind. Let the mutants out of their cages. The man stopped in his tracks, shook his head, then kept walking.

They need some fresh air. Some are claustrophobic. The little one is sick. Let them out. Now. Angel urged. The man froze and slowly turned around with a puzzled look on his face. He made slow and long footsteps back towards the cage. Then he just stopped, looking really confused. Let them out! They shouldn't be in cages! Do it! She thought, forcefully.

The man walked over to the nearest cage, Aileen, and opened it. Then he went to Simon's and opened his. Then he went to Tara's and then Carlisle's, opening theirs and all other mutant's cages. Lastly, he opened hers. "Thank you," she said with a creepy little girl smile. The man's eyes widened and she punched him in the face. She was surprisingly strong for a little girl. he collapsed to the ground, but her hand hurt now. "Let's go," she said.