Nathans Gift

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Misfits related fan fiction, with a character of my own design given an organ of Nathans.

Submitted: July 20, 2012

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Submitted: July 20, 2012

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Lucy hears a pounding, thumping, a horrible loud, painful noise, and it seems to be coming from inside her own head. She opens her eyes and slowly wakes up, observing her surroundings. She’s in a dark room, as single light bulb dangling from the ceiling, no windows, and a single metal door. There’s a wooden table in front of her, dirty and scratched, and the matching chair is the one she’s tied to, hands behind her back and lying sideways on the floor. A roach scrambles by, and she watches it as it disappears into a crack in the wall. She tries to turn her head, but she finds the effort hurts too much, so she stays still. She thinks to herself, ‘How am I going to get out of he--…how the hell did I get here?’ Lucy goes back, racking her brain for what happened. She has little memories, of a man with large eyes and a sleazy smile following her, how he looked familiar, and how he bashed her over the head with something, she couldn’t see what. Then being dragged into this room, and…falling over? No…being punched. She grimaces, now realizing the pain in her left cheek and eye. Lucy moves her wrists together, squirming against the rope, and feels it already rubbing them raw.  
“Fuck.” Lucy whispers, unintentionally. It was a lot harder to speak than she thought. But she was distracted from her sore throat as heavy slow footsteps neared the door. As it creaked open, she was greeted by the face of the man who had knocked her out, and a much more professional looking one, a nice suit, a plain face, a innocent enough looking man. The sleazy man grinned at her, and winking, lets the plain man pass by him and retreats to the hallway, shutting the door. The noise echoes through the room, and the man stares at her, expressionless until silence falls.
“What do you know, and what did you share?”
Lucy opens her eyes wider, pain surging through the left and she flinches. “I don’t know anything. And usually, when you ask people what they know, you clarify so they can give you specifics.”
The man removes his nice jacket, placing it on the table, and walks over to her, squatting down to look at her. He grabs her face like a child who refuses to listen, and speaks again while she glares at him, hating his grasp.
“What the fuck to you know about the Maris company, and who the FUCK did you tell?”
Lucy struggles from his grasp, and he lets her go, but grabs her shoulders and sits her back up in the chair. The pain from finally moving causes her to gasp, and the man smiles a little before returning to his perfectly expressionless look.
“This can be a lot simpler if you make it. You tell me what you told others, and I’ll just shoot you mercifully. Maybe, just maybe, I let you go if you tell me exactly what I want to know and it seems like you didn’t do much damage. You refuse, and I torture you till I find out what leaked to the public, maybe let my friend-” He points towards the door. “-get a few more swings at you, seems he did a number on your face already, and then after days, maybe weeks, you will bleed or starve to death.”
“So most likely, I’m dying here?”
“About an eighty-five percent chance.”
“Well, I don’t know a damn thing, and never told anyone about my job. It was boring as all hell to me. I’m a secretary, and you’re shit out of luck.”
The plain man pulls back his hand, slapping Lucy across the face, her head whipping to the side, painfully straining her stiff neck, adding to the stinging pain of her face, and spreading soreness of her cheek.
“I really don’t like being talked back to.” He shoves her chair backwards, and her head hits the floor, causing a short and sudden bit of darkness and bright little lights across her line of vision. He swings his leg back, "And you seem to have a bad habit of doing just that." kicking Lucy in the stomach.
"UGH!" She grunts as his boot makes contact, and the pain makes her clench up, tense and terrified, she waits for the next blow. He smiles at her, a ridiculously sweet smile for the man who had hurt her so badly, and he turns around, and leaves the room. He returns seconds afterwards with the sleazy man.
"What do you think?" He asks sleazy man. "Should I just kill her? Maybe she doesn’t know anything."
Sleazy man’s voice is as bad as he looks, what can only be described as vermin-like. "I think I should have my time with her first. You can go upstairs, boss. I’ll get you when I’m done."
"Have fun. Take good care of her." Plain man comes back over, picks Lucy back up again, and she nearly passes out from the sudden change and the pain in her head. He grabs her face again, and she despises him. Absolute hatred at the man for a grab, not for the kick or the slap, it was the grab, being treated her like a misbehaving child. She couldn’t have that. She swung her head forward with what remained of her strength, head butting the plain man, and he fell backwards, hitting the back of his head on the table and falling to the floor. The sleazy man stares for a moment before moving, rushing towards her, pulling a knife from his pocket. Lucy stands, and swings herself around in an attempt to hit him with the chair, but her grabs the legs and throws her at the table. The chair breaks from the collision, not all the way through, but she can feel the cracks, and the loosening of the rope. She’s pressing against the table, and hops up backwards so she’s sitting on it, just as he runs at her again. She kicks with both legs, trying to shove forward with her body and her not quite free hands. Both feet get him, left to the face, right to the throat, and they both slam into the floor, chair finally shattering. Lucy rolls on the floor for a few moments, the fall and all of her previous injuries causing her to writhe from the pain.
“DAMMIT!” She shouts, and pushes herself off the ground, shoulders aching. She runs from the room, stomach, head, shoulders, and face aching. The door is just as heavy as it looked, and she has trouble with it, deciding to give up and make a gap just wide enough for herself. She keeps running, down a hallway with the only door at the end of it. Lucy slams into the door, opening it as she pushes into it and trips but catches herself as she goes into the next room. A huge room, filled with boxes, and windows lining the top half of the extremely high ceiling. ‘Warehouse...’ the thought crosses her mind and she walks carefully but quickly through the stacks. A voice is heard, and another, but they seem calm enough and Lucy just avoids them, veering to the right and looking for a door. After two minutes of wandering, she hears other people running, and distressed voices, and gives up trying to be quiet. She runs around the next corner of boxes, and THERE, there’s a door. She makes a break out into the open space, but just as her hand touches the knob, one arm wraps around her, raising her and slamming her to the ground.
“How many fucking secretaries did we deal with? And you can’t handle this one just the same?” The newest man yells, voice echoing through the warehouse.  A vein is pulsating in his forehead and as Lucy blinks and stares up at him, he lowers his face to hers.
“Now, how did you manage this?”
She spits and him, and grimaces, knowing what’s next.
“What the hell?” He wipes the spit off his face, and pulls a gun out from where it was presumably tucked into the back of his pants. He yanks Lucy up by her hair, and puts the gun to her forehead.
“They may have kept you around, and played with you a little,” He pokes her bruise, and she makes a small noise of pain. “-but I don’t play around.” He pulls the trigger, and Lucy goes limp.
“That wasn’t nearly as hard as you made it!” He shouts again.  He releases her hair, dropping her to the ground, and walks away from her body. “And someone clean this mess up!”
As the man walks away, Lucy begins to stir. The hole in her head begins to close, and her wounds begin to disappear.
“Finally, someone shot me!” She lets out a quiet laugh, rubbing the blood off her forehead. “I was getting really sick of those injuries.” She stands, grabs the door again, and exits the warehouse. She rubbed her stomach, feeling the scar from her new kidney. It always ached when this happened, and she thanked the man who donated it. His name was Nathan, and he lived in Vegas. She walks down the street and thinks of the phone call with him.
“I’m immortal. And I guess you are too now. This was kind of a test, I was curious as to what would happen. This sort of thing happened a while back with a teleporting guy, his organs were handed out after he died, and this chick got his powers…I thought something similar to that could work, but since I couldn’t die, I thought I’d donate.”
“Well…what do I do now?”
“Live? Maybe forever. Good luck.
She was amazed, and had a habit of putting herself in dangerous situations since she figured it out. She was the one who brought the Maris company to the ground, and knew they would come after her. She continued down the street, reaching down to pick up a newspaper off the ground. Now, who's next?


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