Some might be surprised about there being loads of abandoned nuclear fallout shelters scattered around the city this day and age, many of which were actively being closed off from the public by city officials. Others knew they were there all along.

The thing most didn’t know was that some of those shelters had been bought and converted into something the general populate wouldn't expect.

... Once upon a time the world had gone to hell in a handbasket. Mass destruction and death, chaos supreme. Money could no longer buy your anything you wanted... instead, it was sheer power that determined your significance. Few humans had survived during that dark, terrible dream. Mass genocide on a global scale. Mutants had the power and with it a different civilization had popped up. Some directed their power towards conquering all. Some relished in blood and gore, others in amassing private armies.

Of the ones who survived long enough to be a part of that world, a few woke up from the dream with the urge to see it become reality.

It was starting to dawn on some of the citizens within the city that a disease was running rampant through it, one that affected nearly everyone. People were disappearing. Didn’t seem to matter who or what you were… fear was starting to take root.

Those unfortunate enough to find themselves as victims quickly found that there wasn’t one solitary group behind it, either. Many independent groups were jumping on the bandwagon looking for quick cash, or to bolster their name and grow the business.

People who were picked up ended up scattered in multiple directions, sold to whoever was bidding the highest. Typically, there were three main avenues people ended up being trafficked through... Pleasure, pain, and research.

Those who had visible mutations ended up being passed along to buyers who were looking for fighters, whether willing or unwilling, or as pawns of other violent sports. Human chess pieces to be used in various forms of illicit fighting rings, global and local. Sometimes they were simply purchased to be later hunted down like animals by wealthy bigots with superiority complexes.

Exotic looking, or attractive victims often ended up being sold directly to organizations across the US and world wide; secret brothels, or simply to someone with very specific tastes. Those who ended up being sent down this path typically didn’t fare any better than those of the first.

The last group who made up a significant percentage of the problem were often looking for unique powers, or interesting physical manifestations. With deeds that harkened back to the days of old when medical professionals learned about the body by grave robbing, or unwilling live subjects. Some wanted to try and find a cure for mutations themselves. Others wanted to see if mutations could be used to cure other human diseases with the right tools. Some wanted to see if powerful mutations could be used in wars, or for their own personal gain.

Andrea couldn’t say whether or not she was one of the lucky ones when she ended up being sold to a small underground medical science company.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer...

It was a strange and wonderful position to be in. Lost in the throes of what looked to be a wonderfully budding relationship. Andrea was simply the person for him in every way that matters and a multitude that most people wouldn't even consider. Some would even say every new relationship felt that way, but not to Erik. There was a special unnamed something between the two of him he was too terrified to sous out the exact source of. Instead simply content to let it be a part of the attracting force that brought them colliding together. 

That same attraction also made being seperated an exercise of will that Erik hadn't developed. Seeing as how she said she was meeting with a friend and had some errands to run he was conent to leave her be for a few hours and wait till she called or texted saying she was done. When the window was up he found himself calling on the top of the hour, frowning when she didn't answer. Fumbling with the accursed piece of technology he checked the calander to confirm she didn't have work straight after. Sanity confirmed after the long minutes,he redialed. The lack of response dserved its own sort of action and he threw on his 'work' clothes.

Now some might say having your girlfriend's phone tapped with GPS was paranoia to the extreme. Erik wouldn't know how to respond to say she wasn't his girl at the time of doing so without sounding like an insane creeper. Other's people girlfriends also hadn't been kidnapped after taking a double tap to the chest either. Cursing in Russian as he fumbled with the options on his phone to get it activated and waiting for her location to update before taking off.

~~~

Erik's heart was beating fast and he could feel his skin start to itch. The GPS had lead him to an alleyway and he parked to cover one direction from view. Mentally steeling himself to find his girlfriend or pieces of her. After a controlled breathing exercise a professional numbness has asserted itself and he was ready to face whatever he was going to find. Clambering out with nerveless limbs. The coordinates getting him within a few feet. Eyes glazed and darting quickly among st the detritus of society. Semidetached noting a lack of anywhere a body could be. A few trashcans here or there and downgraded her condition to pieces. His trained eye saved him from begging to rummage through garbage as his sharp eyes picked out her phone. Scuffed and barely still together after it's protective after market case took the deadly blow meant for the phone it slid far up against the wall. Too dirty for fingerprints now he simply pocketed the phone and surveyed the scene.

Walking to the mouth of the alley and noting the surroundings buildings and their features. It wasn't much to go on. Erik's best guess being someone chucked it out the window as they drove after grabbing her. A picture formed and no other clues forthcoming he climbed back into his van and thought out his plan.

Cops were useless. People had to be missing for a stupid amount of time in regards to trafficking people. 24 hours? Erik could be on the other side of the world with even live human cargo in that time frame. The flip side was his only option. Ignoring the future consequences he started to make some calls. "Yeah it's me. Need to meet with your boss. No tonight. It has to be tonight. Well if you can't do it I will just use your head as a invitation to the table after telling them what you did. That's what I thought. Give me a time and place you have 2 hours. I will bring cash to cover."

While the collar they had put on her had worked to keep her from using one facet of her mutation, it didn’t work to keep her snakes calm and compliant by themselves. With that in mind, after seeing first hand how much physical damage they were capable of even from a distance, sedatives had been administered in an attempt to keep her and the serpents under control for the duration of time she spent at the holding center after they had taken Zaid away.

She could hazard a guess at what they had used, based on her reaction to it. Probably... Ketamine? Yes, and a higher than normal dose at that. Though she hadn't developed any hallucinations at that point, so she hadn't necessarily been overdosed with it. Still, whatever the mixture truly was left her mentally sluggish and tired, with legs and arms that felt like rubber and snakes that hadn't moved since it had been administered. It was.. terrifying? Yes, she was sure that was the correct word. Even though feelings were harder to dredge up than normal, she was at least lucid enough to recognize that she was trapped in a nightmarish scenario if there ever was one.

She spent much too long alone, left in that dark room with blood stains drying on the floor from where she had disinfected Zaid's back, and bloodstains over by the door from where she had very nearly killed a man to try and earn the bunny mutant his freedom. She found herself drowsily thinking of him in and out of short sleeps... wondering if he had escaped, or where they had taken him next. Would they every see each other again?

... Would she ever seen anyone again?

The faces of her loved ones filtered slowly through, as she drifted off into a dreamless sleep again.

--

When next she woke it was to three people manually holding her down while someone else worked to get the collar off from around her neck. At least a few hours had to have passed as she could feel a bit more with her body. Her arms and legs tingled with life. Her snakes seemed to be a little more alive as well, and her captors seemed to know it seeing as they all had a bit of anxiety in their voices while yelling at the one to work faster.

"Hurry the hell up, it's awake already."

She might have normally fought back, but this time... this time she decided to bide her time. Maybe if she played it off like she was still mostly numb she would have a chance of escape when the dropped their guard? She hoped so. The collar popped open with a soft metal click and it was pulled none to gently from her skin. Her snakes, particularly Sloth, weren't a fan of the sudden pain that caused and hissed loudly like a next of vipers.

It might have been comical how quickly they all backed off from her in any other situation. Still, she tried to use that momentary gap of freedom to her advantage. The moment she tried to get her arms and legs under her three bodies piled back on and she was wrestled back to the floor. "Get the stuff the quacks gave us!"

A snake lashed out and found purchase on someone. There was a pained scream, and a flash of pain presumably from that snake being hit with something. The Greek struggled a little as her other snakes attempted to join in by going after the same target the first snake had bitten. Stone venom sprayed in a few directions at once. She stopped a foot speeding toward her head too slowly, and then...

Nothing.


She wasn't awake to see the four men crowded around and lift her by the arms and legs like some unruly gator, carting her off to the same van she had been brought in with. She wasn't aware of the drive they took, where they had taken her next, or what was in store for her.

When she came to next she was laying on an altogether more comfortable surface, and that was a little terrifying in its own right.

She might have thought herself rescued at first, or that the whole thing had been some horrible dream... had she not sluggishly recognized the feeling of an anesthetic in her system. She wasn't sure which one at that point, her brain was a bit too fuzzy to filter through all of the names of drugs and their uses.

Her head rolled to one side lethargically, where she spotted the telltale IV needle and line taped securely to one forearm. The Greek dutifully noted how sloppily it had been inserted, what with the bruising already showing on her skin, and the crap job they did with taping it down.

She also noticed the tightly cinched strap around her wrist, and that her glove was missing. Rolling her head to the other side showed much of the same. Her snakes and hair were free from the usual braid and laid out meticulously around her head, shoulders, and upper body. None of them were moving. Trying to move her legs a little let her know that they were also strapped. She didn’t doubt that there was also one wrapped around her middle to keep her from jerking around.

In such a disoriented state, she barely noticed the clear oxygen mask settled over her mouth and nose. She couldn't feel it on her skin, so it had escaped her immediate attention.

... Fat lot the oxygen would do though. If they were worried about the sedation affecting her lungs at all they’d have to intubate her to make sure the air was actually reaching her lungs.

She didn’t know how to feel about all of this new information through the haziness of the drugs in her system. They made it all but impossible to process thoughts and feelings normally. It felt like she was looking through a fish tank at everything... Warped and blurry thoughts that didn’t quite look or act like they were supposed to.

Glancing around as much as she was able, she spotted some very basic surgical equipment nearby, as well as a dirty looking cart and prep tray. Around that time she finally noticed the familiar beeping of cardiac monitoring equipment from off to one side and let her eyes flutter closed.

She chose to try and focus on breathing instead of worrying. Whoever had her here, for whatever reason, they wanted her alive at least for the moment or they wouldn’t have bothered with even minimal precautionary measures.

Idly, Erik wondered what it was like to get the post adrenaline jitters. The adrenaline he certainly felt and rather enjoyed most times. There were few enough things to prompt such a reaction from him given his particular powers. Fighting was certainly one of them. The most primal of responses that often determined who died or survived blended with hours of training. Now the effect was waning and in its place a steel resolve locked itself in.

A brief moment was spent throwing open the doors to the unmarked black van he had commandeered for his little task. Duffle Bags thrown hastily tossed into the back. Gunfire that sailed wide barked from behind him and he turned, raising his own pistol with a silenced rapport taking the gun wielding assailant just above the knee. Hacking and moaning as he was Erik lowered the man's threat level. Eyes and weapon tracking to the double doors smoke was pouring out from, but no further gang bangers looking to get back at him quite yet. Stepping backwards into the van without looking, his pistol tracking on the community center door as long as he could before he slammed the back doors of the van shut. Rolling over the backs hastily to take the driver's seat and made his hasty escape.

A few blocks away he had finally shed the gas mask and goggles that had allowed him to see and infiltrate the stash house tossed into the passenger seat. Only half paying attention to where he was going as he checked over his ensemble for holes. Aside from a colorful palette of blood and drywall his trenchcoat didn't seem any worse for wear. Finally he checked the time and swore. If he wanted to make his meeting in time he would have to break a few more laws. The engine revved up louder and he was a black streak in the night.

~~~

Nightclubs were a cliched underworld hotspot for a variety of reasons. Economically gray, could be used as a cash sink to offset taxes. The amounts of money they made were variable and still cash based enough you could launder funds through them. They were also generally loud enough where if one had to conduct 'business' in an office. Legitimately excused soundproofing made sure no one could hear the screams or gunshots... whichever the case may be. 

It probably said a lot about Erik's taste in music and freetime when a distasteful look crossed his face as he threw a duffel bag over his shoulder from the parking lot upon hearing the pervasive rhythm of the thumping base. His appearance after bypassing the line earned a suitably unimpressed look from the bouncer. 

"The goth club is down the street kid." Erik just barely managed to refrain from rolling his eyes before responding. "I have an appointment with Mr. French. Mr. Brown is here to see him." It was a stupid line, but most passphrases were like that in a way. The bouncer turned to consult his earbud for a few moments before regarding Erik with a more scrutinizing gaze. 

"I will need to check the bag." With a shrug Erik dropped the bag into the awaiting hand waiting for the inevitable outcome as the people in the front of line gasped seeing so much cash in one place. Unsurprisingly it snapped back up in short order and Erik was lead into the eardrum loosening sound with a wince. Someone in a suit was waiting for him.

Once through a side door and up some stairs the deep sound was felt more then heard for which Erik was eternally grateful. Hopefully Andrea wasn't into such a loathsome racket.. assuming she was alive. The dark thought set his features into a stone neutrality that had at one time been the only face he wore in public. Devoid of any tell or feeling, jaw set and ready to do what must be done.

Eyeballs threatened to roll back into his head again at the scene before him. It was so cliche'd it almost hurt his soul. A large man smoking a cigar in a tracksuit sat at the end of a conference table. Everyone else was in suits, but the man to his side had the nicest one. Erik would bet all the money in his bag that he was second in command of the room and everything outside of it. After an intense moment off staring between himself and El Hefe he finally spoke in Russian.

"Mr. Volkov I do not appreciate my time being wasted or meetings being demanded of me. So what is it that you want?" Posture and demeanor all clearly indicative of the man comfortable with his authority and looking down on an inferior. Erik's eyes holding only razors for the man across from him. A true businessman would lull an opponent into a comfortable manner to talk shop. Familial connections obviously let this one in charge and away from the prying eyes of the motherland where he couldn't screw up too badly.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am indeed Mr. Volkov, but you my given name is Erik Yahontov. You may be far more familiar with my uncle Dimitri Yahontov and his boss Vasili Turgenev. There is a matter I would like your assistance on and am willing to pay graciously for." The slow steps he took towards the table were more to allow for his far more competent Lieutenant to fact check his claims then any dramatic attempt on his part. Slowly laying the bag down on the table and unzipping it before tilting it towards the man to reveal the green ocean of its contents. 

Long moments passed as the man pretended to mull it over, waiting for his lieutenant to give him the information he needed to do his job. The man to his right leaning to whisper in his ears with a brief raises of his eyebrows before a shark like grin spread across his face. A carnivorous child that found it had finally one some game beyond its true comprehension. "Everything you said does appear to be true Mr. Whoever-you-are. Dimitri did have a nephew, but it seems he has been dead for some time. I see no reason not to take your money and make sure he does not come back to life." Erik hoped the clench of Fancy Suit's jaw meant he had at least one ally in the room. Tracksuit boss snapped his fingers and the two men behind Erik that were flanking the door came forward unsheathing their pistols.

Erik froze in a manner that was quickly mistaken for fear. Instead fury flared from deep within his core. Thin patience snapping in the face of being all but laughed at and dismissed as impotent. He only became consciously aware of breaking bones and screaming. Detachedly remarking at least a knee, nose and several fingers had been broken. The red faded and he was holding to pistols and aiming them at Tracksuit. Many more were pointed at him, most glancing towards Fancy Suit for what to do. "Here is my counteroffer." Erik's voice sliced through the tension. "I help your boss retire and Fancy Suit who runs everything anyway takes over for your incompetent carcass. Either that or I work my way from the top down until I find someone who will. Any objections?" Fancy suit hesitated for all of a second before he waved everyone down. Erik fired.

The next time she opened her eyes it felt like hours had passed, and she was greeted by the sight of four forms looming over her. She wasn’t even able to register fear in the moment, though her heart did make the machine she was connected to beep a few times with a little jump in the blip.

“Patient 024 is awake, but still sedated. Should we proceed?”

24?? Proceed? With what?

"Yes, it shouldn't change much so long as it can't move around. Check fluid levels one more time before we start."

Well this was surely ominous, wasn't it? Her eyes trailed after one figure that branched off to fiddle with the fluid bag connected to her IV. She wished her eyes didn't feel so fuzzy so she would spy what the label on the bag said.

"We shouldn't have any problems." The figure re-joined the others.

“Great. Let's see...the first buyer has an interest in the snakes. There have been reports of them being able to produce a toxin similar to the one secreted from the hands. Wants a sample large enough to experiment with possible weaponization of it.”
There was a quiet shuffle as those gathered around her hopped into motion, gathering supplies in a practiced hurry. The motioned was too much for the moment and forced her to close her yes before dizziness could make her feel nauseous. If she threw up in such a state it was likely she would choke on it, and she had no reason to believe any of the group of four would jump to her rescue. Eventually they all gathered back around her and she had to force herself to refocus on them.

Letting her head loll to the side she was able to get a fairly clear picture of what exaclty they were proceeding with. One of the black snakes… she couldn’t recall exactly which one at the moment, was in the process of being carefully removed from her. She watched impassively, unable to really muster a whole lot of feelings over what she was seeing. She absently wondered how long they had kept her IV in... Too much would start to interfere with her body's ability to breath on it’s own, and the blood flow to various organs.

... They knew they, didn’t they?

They were busy cutting around a major artery so that they could clamp it, she assumed, when she started trying to move her lips and get a few words out. They weren’t intended to be nice ones, even through the mental haze in her head.

...

Nope. Nothing. Too many drugs. Her words were firmly lodged in her throat, which was really starting to feel pretty dry. Some small whispering, croaking sounds did manage to come out, but she was ignored.

She was aware on some level that she should have been in an enormous amount of pain. The snakes were rooted to her head after all, and the last time any of them had been removed it had been the worst physical pain of her life. It was surreal and terrifying watching it happen again in front of her, but not feeling even a niggling of discomfort.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, they had quelled the bleeding and were settling the length of stolen snake on that nasty surgical tray she was starting to hate. She wasn’t sure which snake they had taken and she didn’t have the mental capacity to really mourn yet. She just turned her head the other direction away from it all.

Around her, the four were whipping themselves into another flurry of movement she had a hard time following. Her eyes itched and her lips felt dry when she moved them.

One of them had changed gloves and was messing around with one of her hands now; Andrea focused on that one over the others. Snakes were one thing, they would grow back after all. Her fingers wouldn’t grow back and she was rather attached to them emotionally and physically. ...Like, a lot.

“Might as well get a sample of the hand too. Might be able to use it if the snake ends up being a dead end.”

“Good idea, John. I’ll get another container.”

As she watched, mute and limp, they chatted among themselves about how best to get a sample of what they needed. How the week was going. Whose kids were in what special classes or sports. She realized, as the one hovering over her was handed a very well used looking scalpel, that this was a nightmare, wasn’t it? Wasn’t this whole scenario a legitimate phobia? She briefly considered the idea that the sedatives had caused her to lapse into some kind of terrible waking dream.

She didn’t like this. Not one bit.

There is something quintessentially wrong with being awake and desensitized, and watching someone remove a decent sized chunk of you from yourself. She could vaguely recall some of the other nurses chatting about something like this being in a movie, only it had been a brain and the bad guy had eaten that chunk at the end. She didn’t like horror movies, but she was sure that this was exactly the same thing.

John made the first cut. Her hand was now bleeding profusely, and because these four goons were apparently idiots no one was bothering to staunch the blood anytime soon as they continued merrily on their way.

All these precautions and she was going to bleed to death from a gash in her palm.

One of them ran off with her skin, which was a weird thought to have to think, and another turned around with an empty vial to get samples of the pooling blood.

Was a blood draw so hard?

Probably, if their IV placement skills were anything to go by.

She'd never wished to be unconscious so hard in all her life.

The subdued thumb of the bass fueling the organized chaos on the dance floor still made its presence known even in the bathroom. An entirely different tempo playing out in one of the stalls behind him. All of which were noted and flagged as currently relevant in his conscious and subconscious alike as he stared at himself in the mirror. In a detached way he noted he certainly didn't look any different then the usual Erik he portrayed. Were they different people at all or just carefully compartmentalized facets of himself learned in the hardest of ways? No, he knew he was the same Erik as yesterday. In fact he knew it was probably a truer oversion of himself then he usually showed people save maybe Ranger. 

It hadn't been his first or even second kill, but it was certainly one of the only ones he had done for personal gain, jobs aside. Or that it would be the last until he found Andrea.. whatever state she was in. For a brief moment the he felt the fire of righteous anger return, driving away the otherwise cold and bitter numbness that was all to pervasive suppressing even his usual all consuming hunger writhing in the pit of his stomach that would go untended for a slong as he could drive it away. 

No as Erik stared into his own chocolate brown eyes he knew the surety of his cause. One way or another he was find the woman he loved. He gave the image in the mirror a terse nod of recognition before it splinter into a million pieces and fell away. Along with it his doubts and fears as he shook the glass free from his knuckles. No doubts, no remorse, only anger.