Chapter Text
She was supposed to be dead. That was the whole point of letting the chattering chomper roll out of her hand, right beside her. It was the end of her story, or it was supposed to be. Ekko wouldn't finish the job, so she had to. She watched the switch happen— the fury drained from those deep brown eyes, and his eyes softened into something akin to recognition.
Jinx wasn't Powder, though. That's who he was wanting— who he thought he had seen— and she had to prove him wrong. Powder was gone, and now, Jinx would be gone too. So why were her eyes opening, and why could she feel her body violently protesting her existence? Had he somehow saved her? Had he made it out? Where was she?
Her head raced with questions that she couldn't articulate as she gasped for air, her muscles spasming as pain wracked through her body. Gods, she knew blowing herself up would hurt, but this was agony.
Something was off, though. This was more than just the residual pain from surviving an explosion. She finally managed to pry her eyes open as the sharp prick of a needle sent searing pain flooding her veins. She whimpered and urgently scanned her surroundings, trying to make sense of where she was as she strained against the thick leather straps that held down her wrists and ankles. Her heart dropped as she vaguely recognized the dark, eerie lab, and more important, she recognized the gruesome, scarred face of the doctor as he hovered over her.
This was wrong— very, very wrong. She didn't know how she had gotten there, but she could guess. There was only one person who would think to bring her there and who would be desperate enough to try to bring her back from death's doorstep. Didn't he get that she wanted to die? He had lied to her. He lied about Vi.
For years, Silco had been the only person she thought she could trust. He told her that over and over again— all they had was each other, everyone else would betray them. What was she supposed to do now that he had betrayed her too?
"S-silco?" she hissed, her body jerking involuntarily as another needle was plunged into her thigh. Her eyes wildly darted around the dark room, trying to find any familiar faces that could comfort her. He wasn't there. Had he abandoned her, too? Was this her punishment for leaving him? She tried to swallow the tears the pooled in her eyes, but it was a futile endeavor.
There was nobody coming to save her. Ekko was either alive and probably hating her more than ever before, or he had died on the bridge, like she was supposed to. Vi was gone, too. She was alive, but she had chosen a Piltie over her. She was a traitor. They weren't sisters anymore, Vi had sealed that deal by partnering with a Piltie. Jinx hated Vi for leaving her, yet she found herself fighting the urge to call out for her big sister. There was once a time when Vi promised to protect her from all the big, bad monsters of the world, so where was she now?
She hates you.
You ruined everything.
Jinx finally broke, letting the sobs spill from her body. Somehow the words that her ghosts whispered to her hurt far more than whatever the doctor was injecting into her. She just wanted this to be over. She wanted to die.
The gods were not that kind, though. They never had been.
Her eyes drifted up as the doctor hovered above her with another thick needle and syringe full of a glowing purple liquid— shimmer. She should've known. That was what the doctor was known for after all, and Silco would have known that shimmer was the only thing capable of saving her life. For once, she understood the Firelight's hatred of the drug. She had never particularly cared about shimmer before, she had only cared about what Silco told her to do. If he told her to defend a cargo ship of shimmer, that was what she would do, she had no reason to care what the Firelights thought. Now, though, she understood their determination to burn every last barrel of it. This wasn't a fun high to take the sharp edges of the world away, this was torture.
"No…" she whimpered as the doctor clamped his bony fingers over her head, turning her neck to the side. She could anticipate what was coming neck, and she knew it would bring nothing but pain.
"I'm sure this is painful," the doctor sighed, his voice lacking any real empathy. He brushed his calloused, bandaged thumb over her cheek, gently wiping away one of her tears. The gesture made her flinch in fear and disgust. She needed to get away from him, but she couldn't move. Even with the shimmer coursing through her veins, she was too weak to break free from the restraints that were holding her down.
"Unfortunately, this is only the beginning," he added coldly as he plunged the needle into her neck.
Jinx's eyes widened in terror, and her vision faded as searing heat flooded her brain. For a moment, she couldn't feel anything at all. She was distantly away of a strained, gurgling sound that she was unfortunately certain was coming from herself, and she could feel her body convulsing, but for a blissful second there was no pain. Then, it crashed into her all at once, and she screamed.
When her vision began to clear, it was blurred and tainted with hot pink. She could feel bile and bitter saliva pooling in her throat and dribbling down her chin. This was unbearable. Surely, eventually her body would give up the fight, right? The doctor's words kept playing in her mind like a broken record, though.
This is only the beginning.
What else was he going to do to her? How much worse could this possibly get?
Her head lolled to the side as the pain slowly began to subside. She wasn't foolish enough to believe that she would be granted any relief, though. Instead, she braced herself for whatever torment was coming next. She could hear the doctor off to the side fidgeting with what was undeniably some sort of torturous medical equipment.
There was the sound of mechanical whirring, something almost like a saw. She gulped, choking on the acrid taste of the bitter, and prayed to whatever god would listen that the sound wasn't what she thought it was. Gods weren't real, though. She learned that lesson long ago, so she wasn't sure why she was wasting her breath now.
Hot, purple tears stung her skin as she sobbed and desperately thrashed, trying to loosen the restraints that were keeping her trapped. Her eyes widened in horror as the doctor approached once more, this time with a razor-sharp saw in his hand. It's mechanical whirring was practically deafening as he brought it closer and closer to her.
It didn't make sense. What was the point of bringing her back to life just to kill her again? There was no way she would survive whatever he was about to do to her, right? A cruel hand held her arm down, preventing her from trying to move it, and her stomach churned as she realized what was about to happen.
She wondered if Sevika had played a part in this. An arm for an arm, right? It was just another mistake from that terrible night all those years ago that she had no way of fixing. Sevika had always hated her for it, and she had learned to hate Sevika in return. She never thought that Sevika would go this far, though. Sure, Sevika despised her, but she never seemed sadistic. Jinx supposed she deserved it, though. The arm, years of mockery, tying her up in Silco's office, yeah, Sevika had every right to want her to suffer.
"Don't do this," she begged breathlessly, her wide eyes locked on the saw that was inching closer and closer to her arm. She could only imagine how painful it was going to be, not to mention the fact she would lose the one thing that made her useful. How was she supposed to build stuff with one arm? It wasn't like Silco was coming to save her, but now, if she managed to find a way out of this, he would have no need for her, anyway. Who would want her after this?
If the doctor heard her pleas, he showed no sign of sympathy. There was no hesitation from him as he brought the saw down on her arm, slicing through her flesh, muscles, and nerves. Jinx screamed until her voice was raw and she could taste blood in her throat. Her vision spotted with black amidst the violent pink, and her breath was ragged. She could feel her lungs heaving and trying to suck in air, but her body was not cooperating. No matter how many frantic breaths she took, she couldn't seem to get any oxygen into her body.
She could feel her warm, sticky blood pouring out of her arm— or rather where her arm should've been— staining her porcelain skin and the cold, metal table beneath her. Please, please just let her bleed out. She needed this to be over.
Her hazy vision followed the doctor's movements, and she felt the sharp prick of the metal saw against her upper thigh. A ragged sob spilled from her lips as her eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay open. This was all wrong. He wasn't saving her. This wasn't even just torture. His movements were too precise and purposeful to be meaningless. He was doing something to her— turning her into one of his fucked up mutants. Would she live the rest of her miserable life chained in the darkness, subject to whatever torment he decided to make her endure?
The fight had been sucked out of her. She couldn't even try to struggle. There was no point anyway, she was never getting away. Tears streamed down her face as she braced herself for the agony of the saw slicing through her leg. She stared blankly at the ceiling, as she felt her leg be torn apart from her body. She didn't even bother screaming. The pain was less intense this time, like it was a distant memory instead of what was actively happening to her. Maybe her mind had finally found a way to shut itself off from everything else.
For once, she found herself missing the ghosts that always seemed to taunt her. At least then she'd be a little less alone. The ghosts were never nice to her, but there would be some comfort in seeing their familiar faces.
She supposed they were probably content to watch her suffering, though. This was what she deserved, after all. Finally, she was getting to pay for all her sins. All the lives she had taken— accidental and on purpose— had to be paid for in someway, and this was it. She got to feel every last sensation of pain as her body was ripped apart to be used for gods only knew what.
Cold hands wandered along her body, and she flinched, squeezing her eyes shut as if that would be enough to block out the sensations. She felt him drag a pen along her chest, marking the exact spot where her heart lay beneath. If she had more energy, she would've laughed. He could have her heart, she didn't want it. If ripping her heart out was what it took to free her from this prison, then she would do it herself. Once she was dead, she didn't care what he did with her corpse, but she needed to die.
She heard the doctor's footsteps wander away from her, and she turned her head to make sense of what he was doing. There was a notebook on his desk, no doubt documenting every little reaction she had to what he was doing to her. If she could get to the notebook, maybe she could figure out what he was doing to her. Then again, did she want to know?
Jinx closed her eyes, letting the thick fog cloud her thoughts, allowing her a brief moment of peace despite the persistent pain. When would this be over? How long had it even been? It had felt like days to her, but she knew it likely hadn't even been an hour. How much longer would she have to endure this torment?
She begrudgingly opened her eyes as she heard the sound of footsteps approaching once more alongside what she figured out to be something on wheels being pushed toward her. She looked over, her eyes dull and defeated as the horrifying contraption hovered over her. A long, metallic arm menacingly hovered over her. At its end was a talon-like tip attached to what looked like an oversized spoon, or scoop.
It didn't take much imagination to figure out what it was for. She knew there had been a reason he marked up her torso, and it seemed like this was it. This would be the end for her— it had to be. Only, instead of switching the machine on, the doctor pushed it aside, and picked up a drill. She furrowed her brows in concern and confusion. This time, she didn't know what was coming next. She just hoped it would mean her death.
"This will only sting for a moment," the doctor stated with an eerie calmness as he pushed her head down, holding it still. She could hear the high-pitching whirring of the drill, and finally, she understood what he was about to do. Tears dripped down her cheeks, but part of her was relieved. Even if this wasn't what killed her, she probably wouldn't be aware enough to know what he did to her next. She swallowed heavily, nearly choking on her thick, shimmer-laced saliva, and she closed her eyes. She didn't want to see anymore. All she could do was hope that his words were the truth and that it would only hurt for a second.
Jinx gasped in pain, and her body jerked as the drill was pressed against her temple. She screeched in pain, the sound hoarse and panicked. There was a sharp, stinging pain as the sharp tip of the drill dug into her skull. Her eyes rolled back from the pain, and her hand curled into a claw, digging desperately at the restraints that held her down. It was over as quickly as it began, just like the doctor had said. One second, there was nothing but excruciating pain, and then the next she felt nothing at all. Her body went limp, and her eyes closed as she was dragged into the empty darkness, the sound of whirring and clicking metal still distantly echoing in her ears.
Jinx. That was her name.
That seemed to be one of the few things she could recall as her eyes fluttered open, and she stared up at the blinding light above her. She quickly flinched away from the light, instinctually wanting to retreat to the darkness. Sitting up was more difficult than she remembered it being, then again, she couldn't seem to remember much. Her body felt like it was full of lead, and she supposed that made much more sense when she finally looked down at her mangled body.
Her legs and one of her arms had been replaced with metal prosethetics, their wiring was still exposed and she carefully ran her finger along the sharp metal edges. There was a faint tugging in her chest as if her body was telling her she should be concerned, but she felt nothing but slight judgment for the poorly thrown together prosthetics. She could do far better than whoever had crafted up these pieces of garbage.
She lifted her mechanical arm, cocking her head at the sound of metallic clicking and whirring with every movement she made. Her hand had been replaced with sharp claws, and she wriggled them, testing her mobility. At least it seemed like she had control over her limbs. That was far better than being rendered immobile.
Slowly, she slid off the cold surgical table, her new legs creaking and groaning under the full weight of her body. She took a cautious step forward with her right leg, and her left one dragged behind her, making her stumble slightly. Relearning how to walk wouldn't take long, but it was still an annoyance. Her metal limbs creaked and groaned as she staggered toward the mirror across the room.
The clearest memory she had from before was the sound of metallic whirring, not unlike the sound her body was currently making with each step. Everything else seemed to be hidden behind a thick cloud of fog, and every time she tried to reach in, sharp claws tore into her brain, making her pause and twitch. It was easy to decide to leave the memories alone, perhaps she was better off without them.
It didn't stop her natural curiosity, though. She wanted to see what had been done to her. She was a human, at least she had been, but now, she was… different.
When she finally made it to the mirror, she stared blankly at her reflection. She was a mangled patchwork of flesh, metal, and wires. Her right arm had been left untouched, and winding blue smoke tattoos still covered her arm and torso. Her left side, though, was almost entirely metallic. She moved her sharp, talon-like fingers, and inspected the metal plate that had been seared to her chest over the spot where her heart should've been.
She froze, and listened for the sound of her heartbeat. Instead of a steady thumping, she heard what sounded almost like a clock ticking. Beneath her thin, pale skin were the dark outlines of her shimmer-filled veins. They left spiderweb-like patterns across her skin, and the reached all the way up to her face.
Just like everything else, her face had been changed too. One of her eyes remained their natural shade of blue, but her pupil was permanently dilated, making her vision blurry, and her eye was red and bloodshot from burst blood vessels. Her other eye was a fiery shade of pink that glowed in the darkness, just like Silco's mangled, orange eye did.
Silco.
There was the beginning of a memory. Her body tightened with discomfort and… anger? She wasn't sure. Aside from the name and a fleeting image of his face, she couldn't piece together anything else. Why was he important to her? Why did his memory make her feel that way?
Maybe it didn't matter. If she wasn't with him, it must mean he wasn't that important, right?
Aside from her eyes, her face was covered by two thick, purple stripes that began at her eyes and reached down to her cheeks. They were like tear marks, but when she reached up to rub them away, they didn't even fade. It seemed her skin had been permanently stained from her toxic tears.
Truthfully, she was more fascinated than distrubed by her new appearance. She couldn't really remember what she had looked like before, anyway. Everything from before felt irrelevant and meaningless. She had been rebuilt with some purpose in mind, and it felt like she was impatiently awaiting her assignment.
In the meantime, curiosity got the better of her, and she wandered back toward the surgical table. She had always loved science, though she was more of an engineer than a biologist. Whatever had been done to her perfectly combined both, though. Someone knew exactly how to rewire her brain and body while still keeping her alive, and they knew how to build crude, though useful mechanical prosthetics.
She poked through the box of surgical tools on the desk across from the table she had woken up on, and finally, her eyes landed on a thick leather notebook. She tilted her head in curiosity as she opened the book, flipping through the pages until she found one with her name on it.
Subject: Jinx
Subject's heart had stopped due to trauma sustained prior to the procedure. Prepping subject for refined shimmer injection.
Subject took well to the refined shimmer. Limited side effects— possible blindness? No significant physical mutations.
Subject is incredibly resilient— maintained consciousness throughout amputations with no anesthetic or nerve severance. Prepping subject for prefrontal leukotomy.
Subject lost consciousness during the procedure.
Subject is undergoing organ extraction prior to rewiring of the nervous system.
Subject's nervous system was successfully rewired. Prosthetics were attached and connected with minimal difficulty.
Damage control switch was successfully implanted on the back of the subject's neck and attached to the spinal cord. Minor complications— subject began seizing.
Jinx blinked. Even that simple, instinctual movement felt foreign and mechnical as she tried to adjust to her altered body and process everything she had just read. She could feel the memories flashing like a lightning strike in her mind, and now, alongside the constant sound of mechanical whirring, she could remember the sounds of her shrieking cries and pitiful begging. She remembered sobbing and writhing in a desperate attempt to escape from the pain.
This is only the beginning.
She growled at the memory of those words echoing in her mind, the sound low and guttural. She hadn't wanted this.
Her eyes drifted back to the first line written on her log.
Subject's heart had stopped…
She had died. Sharp pain sliced through her head, and she hissed as she pushed her thumb into her temple in an attempt to soothe the pain. Her body didn't want her to remember how she had died, but she needed to remember. She paced and fought against the pain as she reached for the memory of what had happened. Images flashed in her head— a boy with kind eyes, a bomb, searing heat and pressure from the explosion, and nothing. She had wanted to die. Everything else felt like a distant fantasy, like they were memories that didn't belong to her, but she was certain of the fact she had wanted to die.
She had died. She was supposed to be dead. Instead, she had been cruelly brought back to life. Was she really alive, though? Was she even a person anymore?
It wasn't fair.
Even now, her mind and body ached as if they were desperately trying to make her feel something, but she felt completely numb. She was supposed to be upset about what had been done to her, but the feeling was muted, and she was sure she would forget about it the moment something else caught her attention. She felt like a stranger to herself. She was trapped in a body she didn't recognize, and her memories and personality— everything that was supposed to make her her had been wiped clean.
The logs had said they had reprogrammed her nervous system, had they finished the job? She felt like she was waiting for someone to come tell her what to do and who to be.
Behind her, the door creaked open, and she cocked her head as she heard the sound of footsteps. She kept her eyes glued on the notebook, trying to urge herself to remember more— to feel more. There was nothing, though. It felt like slamming headfirst into a brick wall. All she could do was slowly turn aorund to face whoever had done this to her.
The doctor.
The words weren't particulalry helpful. They weren't accompanied with any flashes of vague memories like Silco's name had been, they just left an uneasy feeling in her chest. She might not have her memories or feelings, but she did have her instincts, and every fiber in her body was burning with the feeling that this old man was a predator and she was his prey.
"Ah, you're awake," the doctor's voice was like an electric shock through her mind. She jerked and nearly collapsed from the weight of the memories as they crashed into her, clearer than before. She remembered needles piercing her skin, fire in her veins, a saw tearing through her flesh and bone, dismembering her one limb at a time.
For the first time since waking up, Jinx truly felt something. She felt the burning of rage as it pulsed through her veins and jumpstarted her brain. Her vision seemed to clear as her gaze locked onto the doctor, and roles reversed. She was no longer the prey. This time, there was no pain or restraints to hold her back. She was free, and she wanted him to pay for what he had done to her.
Before she could even clearly think about her decision, Jinx lunged, her body unfamiliar and uncoordinated but driven by pure primal instinct. It was jarring to go from completely numb and void of anything resembling life to having a raging fire of fury lit inside her, but she was little more than a prisoner in her new body and whatever feelings that accompanied it.
There was no chance for either of them to speak as she tackled the doctor, tilting her head in morbid curiousity as she plunged her metal claws into his chest without hesitation. If he had turned her into his cruel experiment, then she would do the same to him. She had to learn how to make use of this new body, after all.
She couldn't feel the warmth of his blood spilling over her fingers or his flesh tearing as she slowly dragged her claws down his torso. In a way, it disappointed her. She shifted her eyes to the wires that were attached to her arm. Perhaps she could find a way to rewire it to allow her to feel more sensations.
Her eyes snapped back toward the doctor's hand as he shakily reached for the back of her neck. She narrowed her eyes, and then she remembered the words written in the notebook. A damage control switch on the back of her neck. She didn't entirely know what that meant, but she knew it couldn't mean anything good for her.
She snarled and ripped her claws out of his torso to grab his wrist, pulling on it until his joints popped and dislocated, and even then, she didn't stop. Why would she stop when the memories of a saw ripping through her arm had resurfaced in her mind? He hadn't stopped when she cried and begged, so she had no plans of stopping now. Even as he thrashed and screamed, Jinx pulled on his arm, her lips twisting into a sinister grin as his skin began to tear. When the arm finally separated from his withered, wrinkled body, she dropped it and looked down at him with something akin to disgust.
Underestimating him was a mistake. He was spluttering and choking on his own blood, so she was certain he was dying. Unfortunately, that didn't stop him from reaching for her leg— for the wires that now powered her leg. His fingers curled around a bundle of wires before she could move away, tearing them out and sending painful sparks of electricity shooting through her body.
She yelped and crawled away from him, her vision going white as she trembled and convulsed. Finally, the painful spasms stopped, and she took a set of deep, ragged breaths. She guessed that was why he left all those wires exposed. It wasn't about shoddy workmanship, it was a method of control. If she didn't behave, he had easy access to immobilize her. Too bad he wasn't quick enough to stop her from killing him.
When she looked back toward him, his body was still and covered in blood that had pooled from his chest and abdomen and dripped from his severed arm. Good riddance.
She couldn't remember enought about who he was to know everything that he had done, but there was an entire notebook documenting all his crimes against humanity in morbid detail. She tried to move her leg and hissed in pain as more sparks shot out from the severed wires. That was definitely a setback. Walking out of there would've been hard enough, but now she would literally have to drag herself out. She didn't even know where to go anymore. Her memories were too fuzzy to remember where her home was, or if she even had a home.
Her stomach lurched in a way that made her confident that she did not have a home. If she did, why would she have ended up there? Surely, if she had people that cared about her, she wouldn't have ended up in this hellish place, right?
Things weren't adding up, though. There was that name… Silco. And now, she had the memory of two different faces. One with a orange eye glowing like an ember, and another with doe-like brown eyes, peering down at her with regret and concern, but she couldn't remember why or who he was.
She grumbled as she dragged herself back toward the desk. She grabbed the book, and locked her metal claws around it like a cage. She needed to know more about what had been done to her, and this seemed to be her only chance at getting any answers.
Jinx's eyes locked on the exit and she winced as she began the grueling process of dragging herself away. She had two leads to remembering her past, but only one of them had a name. Clearly, her best option was to find Silco. Maybe finding one person would be enough to unlock the rest of her buried memories, or maybe Silco was just as bad as the doctor had been. His name hadn't exactly sparked positive emotions, after all. She didn't have much of a choice, though. She needed to find someone who knew her and could help her. She needed to rewire her leg and build a shell to protect it, she was far too vulnerable with her wires exposed.
With a huff, she crawled toward the exit, and climbed out of the cave. She wasn't afraid, exactly, at least not like she used to be, but there was a sharp tugging at her mind telling her to move— to get away while she still could. So, she did. She didn't bother looking back as she crawled away from the dark cave of monstrosities.
This is only the beginning.
The doctor's voice echoed in her mind, and she supposed he was right about that. He may be dead, but this was far from over. This was only the beginning, indeed.