𝘋𝘠𝘕𝘈𝘔𝘌𝘛𝘐𝘒𝘈//𝘒.𝘉𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰𝘶 𝘹 𝘯𝘳.1 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

30. 𝘈𝘉𝘐𝘓𝘐𝘛𝘠 𝘈𝘊𝘘𝘜𝘐𝘙𝘌𝘋 : 𝘌𝘟𝘐𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘐𝘈𝘓 𝘊𝘙𝘐𝘚𝘐𝘚

(*Aerial Contortion: is a type of performance in which one or more artists perform aerial acrobatics while hanging from a fabric. U/n: Uncle's name. )

THE VILLAINS

It's been four days since the ball, and Y/n has examined every inch of the ceiling above her. Her little cell had received an update from the lonely chair in the furnichure-less room. She now has a small bed that she spends most of her day laying on (Whenever Maneater isn't pestering her of course) and stares up at the ceiling above her. When she's not studying the chipped paint of the walls in her 'room', she examined the cuffs that held her wrists together and disabled her quirk. She was desperate to take them off so she could escape this hell hole.

But after hours of trying many methods, including banging the metal on the wall, bed and ground, she came to the conclusion that she probably wouldn't be able to punch herself out of this situation. The chains holding her door jingled, and Maneater entered the room for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the past four days. "Fuck.." Y/n uttered, shutting her (colour) eyes. She embraced herself to the next walk down memory lane. That's all he's been doing lately, showing her how tough her childhood was, or how sharp she was in highschool, basically any memory where heroes failed her and she had to protect herself.

Just as expected, upon reopening her eyes she found herself in the same old void she saw every day. "What now?" She groaned. "No memories today?" She asked Maneater, who stood behind her with his gloved hands clasped behind his back. He didn't answer and she rolled her eyes. Y/n was fed up with Maneater and his attitudes. His personality was fluid, one minute he's an obsessive maniac and the next he's a cold calculating asshole. God he drove her up the wall.

Y/n shrugged his attitude off and focused on trying to see if her quirk worked or not. It was something she did every time she entered the headspace-realm place that she knew nothing about. Precautions, even though every attempt failed. This time though, she was surprised to see the (colour) energy rush into her veins for the first time in days. She looked up at Maneater with a surprised yet also questioning look, but he was nowhere to be found. 'What kind of sick game is he playing now..' She thought, glancing around worriedly.

When she blinked again, her breathing became laboured and vibrance drained from her face. In front of her stood the first person she put in jail. "Long time no see." Her father's twin spat. Y/n shared a close resemblance to her father, which also meant that she'd resemble her uncle as well. He ran his hand through his (colour) hair and glared at her. "Maneater stop this shit. Whatever the fuck it is you're doing its not gonna work." She spoke up into thin air, her words weren't heard.

"I'm here for a rematch." U/n spoke, snapping her out of her useless attempt to grab Maneater's attention. No matter how hard she focused on it, she couldn't make him disappear from her mind, unlike the objects she was able to conjure in previous... whatever this shit is. "I don't want a rematch. You're in jail. You're not real. Leave me the fuck alone." She responded, turning away from him and kneeling to examine the ground she stood on. She desperately wanted to get out of this shit hole.

Sense– as well as pain– was knocked into her when U/n unmercilessly sent a bolt of lightning towards her hunched over figure. "Get up Y/n." He ordered. Y/n stared ahead. She ripped off the burned remains of the shirt that the HRS supplied her with to replace her tattered dress. The only thing that covered her now was a bandage wrapped securely around her chest and the pants she got with the shirt. "Get the fuck up already! You and your weak mother share a lot in common huh? Both are equally as slow.."

She swayed slightly when she got up, the sight of her eyes glowing with power shut her uncle up, and he prepared for a fight. Glowing embers of (colour) energy ran through the lightning-like scar on her back, tracing through her veins and gleaming under her (tone) skin. "Speak about her again. I dare you." Y/n croaked. U/n smiled. "If you're really not as weak as her then why don't you fight me?-" Blood splattered onto the ground when Y/n's fist collided with his jaw, stopping him mid sentence. But he didn't waste time fighting back.