Chapter Text
Mantis’ childhood memories were mostly vague, half remembered things. A dark bare room with a creaky bed frame and a stained mattress. A cardboard box filled with his clothes. A small pile of stolen books and food under the bed. His father who didn’t even give him a name- just called him either “Girl” or one of many foul curse words when he wasn’t ignoring his existence. Father’s right hand, adorned with a heavy engraved ring that always backhanded Mantis’ face for every “mistake”- regardless of whether it was actually a mistake or not. The precious few days when Father would be asleep- passed out from drinking- and Mantis could pull the books out and lovingly flip through the pages, fingers brushing against the bright pictures.
The books were by far Mantis’ favorite possessions. While he couldn’t read the words printed on the page- he could barely speak- he was always enraptured by the exotic wildlife within those books. His favorite picture was the close up of the strangest looking bug he’d ever seen in his life: long stick like body with wings and forearms covered in spikes. He would stare at that page for hours studying each microscopic detail- from the segments of the creature’s antenna to its large eyes and delicate feet.
Somedays, however, Father’s drinking didn’t lead to a few precious moments of peace but instead to the verbal and physical beating of a life time. Whenever this would happen Mantis was always consumed by a terror so visceral and primal that he would do anything to get away. One time he managed it, running into his bedroom and slamming the door shut before hiding under the bed- praying that the door would stay shut but knowing that without a lock all his escape attempt would do was make the beating worse. Tears slipped down his face as he heard a bang followed by a stream of foul curses. He prayed that the door wouldn’t open, he squeezed his eyes shut and dug his fingers into the hem of his dress and hysterically wished against the universe to please keep that man out of his room. He knew it was impossible of course- was sure any second his father would come inside and beat him- but instead there was more banging and threats but not the sound of the door swinging on it’s rusty hinges nor the grip of his father’s hands. Mantis carefully hazarded a peek out from under his bed.
His bedroom door shuttered from the force of his father’s fists but the door wouldn’t open. It was like it was glued shut. Mantis gaped and the door started to open, his father’s seething face showing through the gap.
“You little bitch, I’ll fucking show you-!”
Mantis winced and squeezed his eyes closed at the same time there was a loud bang. He cracked an eye and saw the door had slammed shut and his father was back on the other side, unable to get in. Mantis breathed heavily, confused but relieved. Somehow he was keeping that door shut with his mind- he didn’t know how just that he was.
Eventually his father gave up and staggered off to go pass out and Mantis got out from under the bed, shaking in relief that he was safe for the time being. That night when he went to flip through his books, he wondered what had happened with the door and whether he could replicate it.
Mantis was maybe 8 or 9 when he had accidentally peered into his father’s mind and was horrified by what he saw. The hatred the man felt for his child, his bitterness that Mantis’ mother died in childbirth and his petty refusal to ever properly take care of the kid. The sick hidden fantasies of the man- from killing Mantis to using the kid as a replacement for his lost wife to just abandoning him to die of exposure out in the wilderness. The shock at feeling so viscerally the hatred his father held toward him caused some kind of dam to break inside of Mantis and a wave of pure undiluted pent up energy just cracked out from him, engulfing everything in flame and knocking Mantis unconscious.
Mantis didn’t remember much after he woke up- just ash and pain. The left side of his face throbbed and burned uncomfortably when he tried to touch the skin. Taking his hand away Mantis surveyed the ruins of his home before freezing, eyes wide. A few feet away from him the charred body of an adult man lay blackened on the floor, the smell turning Mantis’ stomach and terror gripping his consciousness. He shot to his feet, gathered what was left of his meager possessions to his chest and ran, crying, through the streets as fire engulfed every building in the small town. The smoke made Mantis cough and made tears stream from his eyes. The smell of burning flesh mixed in with the everything else would forever haunt his darkest nightmares.
—:—
The weeks following the burning of Mantis’ village were very hazy. Not only was Mantis delirious with hunger and thirst but the cold made everything numb, and the pounding in his head from hearing everyone around him babbling was profoundly overwhelming. When he could manage it, Mantis avoided towns- too frightened of people and weary of the nauseating din of thoughts that would invade his mind and turn his stomach with their selfishness.
After a while, Mantis became aware that there was a man that was following him from place to place- watching him from a distance. The intent behind the man’s gaze was foreign to Mantis and that frightened him. He could feel his curiosity sure, but also a greed and a desire to study him that made the hair on the back of Mantis’ neck stand on end. Mantis did his best to avoid this man- tried to use what little control he had over his powers to shield himself- but after weeks of wandering hungry and thirsty and exhausted from place to place the man finally caught up to him while he was slumped over in an alleyway. After 3 seconds of struggling against the hands holding Mantis down the boy felt a sharp sting in his neck then everything went black.
When Mantis came to he was laying on a cot in a room with white walls and a speckled grey floor made of smooth concrete. Mantis’ head felt cloudy. The barrage of senses invading his consciousness and the shock of having his environment change in the blink of an eye made his stomach do a gymnastics routine. He could feel the scratchy white hospital gown as if it was sandpaper against his skin, hear the thoughts of those in the rooms adjacent to him- how shattered and scared and small they were- and smell the strong chemical tang of the place invading every surface. Mantis felt bile rise up in this throat and he just managed to roll out of bed and make it to the room’s toilet before throwing up whatever he had managed to eat into the bowl. Mantis rested his sweaty forehead against the seat and just shivered for the longest time as he involuntarily scanned the feelings and memories of the girl one cell to the right.
Her name was Marta, but they called her Vtoroy Rebenok- second child. She was young- older than him certainly but still a child- and she was currently crying. She was scared and in pain and angry. She wasn’t captured but was lured here after months on the road trying to leave her abusive caretakers- not her parents, they had died when she was little, but some other relative. Maybe a aunt or uncle? Recent memories showed some of the “tests” she had been subjected to- electrocution, being held under water, being subjected to extreme stress. The men who ran the place kept trying to “trigger” something but she didn’t know what.
Concentrating Mantis tried to expand his radius, shoving down the nausea that was threatening to send him gagging again. The person next to Marta was a boy named Naum but called Pervyy Rebenok. He was pacing his cell anxiously, ranting aloud to himself. He was older than the girl- a teenager probably- but the second Mantis tried to read him further the boy mentally pushed Mantis out with the parting words of “leave me the fuck alone.” Mantis shivered. He didn’t think he liked this boy.
Expanding more Mantis felt several people with the same intent as that man who followed him around, a lady who was supremely bored and totally ignorant to what her employers were doing, and- several stories beneath Mantis- there was someone else. Someone powerful. Someone angry. Someone sleeping. Mantis’ mind barely brushed against the sleeping giant before it was too much- the man’s rage and pain and sadness sent Mantis reeling back into his own body where he dry heaved into the toilet before passing out on the cool tiles of his cell.
When Mantis came to there was someone in the room with him. The same man who had captured him and taken him here. Mantis sat up and glared at the man who was sitting in a folding chair in the direct center of the room with a look of polite indifference on his face.
“Good morning Tretij Rebenok.” Mantis glared harder. “Did you sleep well?”
The man received no reply from Mantis but he didn’t look bothered by it in the slightest as he curiously studied Mantis with his cold black eyes. After a few minutes he stood up and took several measured steps over towards the child, backing him into a corner before squatting down. They eyed each other- Mantis wearily and the man with cold calculating curiosity.
“Such a pretty little girl...” the man reached out and Mantis flinched away as the man swept his hair out of his face. “Such a shame that your previous owner didn’t take good care of you.”
Mantis clenched his fists and jaw to try to hide his trembling as the man’s fingers brushed the left side of his face that had been burned in the fire causing a searing pain to lick at his skin. Mantis hissed and slapped the hand away making the man chuckle darkly.
“Alright girlie. I’ll leave you be for now.” The man stood up and collected his folding chair. “See you tomorrow Tretij.”
Mantis just glared.
—:—
The men at the facility quickly learned that Mantis was not going to be easily broken. As they even came to collect him the next day for the first round of “tests” Mantis had puzzled out what they would try to do and so he kicked and scratched and spat and bit at every man who dared to touch him. Eventually they wrestled him into a straight jacket and muzzled him before carrying him to another bare room with only a table, chair, and machine. They strapped him into the chair and hooked him up to the electrodes.
The shocks started small then gradually increased in intensity as they tried to goad Mantis into reacting. It was only after about five minutes that Mantis blew up the machine in retaliation. He was then frog marched back to his cell and given a tray containing some kind of disgusting boiled vegetable and stale bread which Mantis promptly ignored.
Every day was vaguely the same- the men would come in at the same time each morning and, if Mantis had actually managed to sleep, they would wake him up. Then there would be the struggle of Mantis fighting against them as they tried to restrain him long enough to get him out the door. After wrestling the struggling child into his straightjacket they would take him to whatever “test” they had prepared for him that day and Mantis would be subjected to some form of torture in an attempt to get him to use his psychic powers. Mantis hated it. He hated being touched and handled and restrained. He hated the damn water tub they would push him under and the fucking tiny closet they would shove him into or the electrodes they would shock him with or the men they would have advance upon him menacingly until Mantis lashed out. He hated them all.
After the test of the day they would throw him back into the cell with his daily disgusting meal (which he refused to touch) and he was left alone most nights.
Most.
About once a week the man that had abducted him in the first place- the director of the facility- would bring his stupid folding chair into the cell and sit down and attempt to have a chat with Mantis.
“My my Tretij, is the food not to your liking?” the man teased as he looked at the row of untouched trays- 16 in total. Mantis just glared at him and the director sighed.
“You’re going to have to eat something eventually my dear Tretij, we wouldn’t want you to starve to death now would we?” The director smiled, his teeth gleaming in the fluorescent lights and the shadows making them seem menacingly sharp. Mantis refused to be unnerved- refused to lower his gaze. The man stood up from his chair and with measured steps approached Mantis’ bed where the boy was sitting. Just as he was close enough to touch the sheets the director stopped because he could simply step no closer. Amusement danced in his black eyes.
“So you’ve put up a little wall now have you? It looks like you’re getting the hang of these powers Tretij...a pity you’re so uncooperative. Just imagine what we could do together.”
Mantis glared harder, his ice blue eyes hardening to steel. The director stared him down for another 30 seconds before exhaling a tiny chuckle and turning his back to Mantis. “I can see when I’m not welcome so I’ll see myself out, however-“ he looked over his shoulder, his dark eyes deep with a threat. “I suggest you eat something tonight or you’ll regret it.”
The director turned his back to Mantis and took several measured steps towards the door. As the door shut behind him, Mantis swiped his hand and all 16 trays flew towards the door at once, painting the white with their bland greens and oranges and yellows.
—:—