http://thirdtonever.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] thirdtonever.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] damned_institute 2007-02-23 06:49 pm (UTC)

Martin Landel. Martin Landel. Martin Landel.

Along with the name, Chase refused to let that ever-smirking face fade from his mind. He kept repeating it over and over, even mumbling it out loud on occasion (damn those drugs they'd shot into his system, he could hardly control himself now). He would not forget that man. He would not. Because one day, Chase assured himself, he was going to escape from this hellish place, regain his powers, and come back to kill that man. And he was not about to forget which one he was.

Not that he would ever forget that voice.

The smell of food brought him out of his stupor a bit. Still guided by an orderly (who had a firm grip on his shoulder, a bit too firm, he thought), Chase gathered up a ridiculous amount of food and took it to an unoccupied table. Oddly enough, he was one of the first ones in there - not that he minded, it gave him more of a chance to avoid talking to someone who might irritate him. He began devouring his food as soon as the orderly had left him to go take care of another patient. Damn, but he was hungry - he couldn't remember ever being this hungry before ...

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