The Return of Twelve (A Lorien Legacies Fanfic)

25. Lt. Rolin-Ev

(Greyson's POV)

Being captured again sucks.
Alright, it's all my fault of why I had to suffer from this, but I never planned to be stuck in this stinking cell.
The Mogs strangled me an hour ago after I barged in their dark lair near New York's George Washington Bridge. They shoot me before they took me inside until I lost my consciousness from something that they injected at my neck.

Now, I woke up in a large cell. My hands and ankles are chained at a human-size laboratory table. There are other lab equipments in this cell, that's why I'm sure, this might be my end. I have no wab to run.

My Legacies are not working anymore. Whatever liquid they out inside me, it's making me sick and lose my power.

But the Mogs are not here. I am left alone in this cell-lab, the poor light bulb blinking as if it's a thousand year old. I try to pull my hands from the chains but it looks too tight to be removed. I scream, yelling at the entire room but there seems to be no effect at all.

Tears flow down from my eyes. I can't end up like this.

But maybe this will be the last place I will be before the Mogs kill me. Or torture me.

They know about us already. The five escaped Garde. We failed again. I failed everyone. I failed Lorien. I failed my last remaining family. Dad and Fourteen. Dad died for nothing, because I end up here and I don't think I can still escape from here.

This is my end.

I sigh in frustration. Screaming is no use.

I can feel my sweat dripping from my forehead down to my neck and to my chest. I'm bare chested. Wounds and gushes are seen from my skin. Why am I not healing?

On the far table beside this slanted table I'm lying at, I can see my orb sword, my pendant and some of the items from my Chest. The Mogadorians have touched them while I was asleep.

Where is Night? Because I need to get out of here.

Suddenly, I hear a ding sound from the metal door of the cell. A red light flashes from the door's frame before somebody came in.

I recognize his face. He's the Mogadorian who pointed me his blaster. His facial features are humanish and far more different from other Mogadorians. Like Rex's. I knew what they are... the trueborns. And judging from this Mog's posture, he looks like someone who leads an army of soldier. His uniform with different badges shows his great rank.

The Mog sees me awake. He smirk with devilish eyes and pace towards me.

"You're awake, Thirteen," he says.

"How do you know who I am?" I hiss.

The Mog laugh. "You are in a laboratory. My doctor took a look at you and studied your pendant. We have our own of determining your numbers now, after a revolutionary invention by one of our prestigious scientists. Luckily, our Beloved Leader acknowledges it and we have been using that before we kill each one of you."

He circle around me while he talks. "I have nothing for you to take."

"Oh, but you have," he says, his deep voice resonating in the cell. "You see, it was only a matter of time before we discovered your existence. Now that the Beloved Leader's ship is ready to take over the world, we thought our hunting is done. But then the five of you show up..."

The Mog stop right in front of me.

"And you, Number Thirteen, will be our medium to find the three others."
I wrinkle my nose to show him how I feel like I wanted to stab him repeatedly. But, did he say, three others?

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"I mean, we are not going to kill you..."

"But you will torture me."

"We will torture you until you speak of where the others are hiding," he stares at me. The laughter in his voice is gone. It was replaced by a sinister face. Mogs are Mogs. They are vicious no matter what. They will kill me, and they can, but I will never say anything that can reveal my friends' identity.

The Mog walk away from me. His hands are behind his back, showing how professional he is as a commander or something even as a Mog. He goes towards the table of blades.

"You took my Legacies," I say.

"That's what we do. And I have so much to tell you about your friends. It is a miracle for us to have you drawn by our trap. And not from John's group."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Where am I?"

"Still in the place where you went in. But like I said, we cannot kill you even if we wanted to."

He snorts, then took a dagger from the table. He approaches me and point the dagger's tip at my throat. "You will tell me where the others are in exchange for you life."

I spit. "You don't value life. I will not get anything from me!"

I shake in my chains but the Mog's blades goes deeper into my skin. I can my blood gushing out. Suddenly, he removed it immediately.

"No matter. Your Legacies are extracted from you. And probably your telepathy can help us locate your friends."

"No!" I scream. I shake on my table again. "No!"

The Mog turns around not looking at me.

"If you still don't know, Numbers One, Two and Three are dead already. Eight as well." He laughs, then turns back on me. "And soon you will be as well."
That can't be. Does that mean there are only seven of them left? This is a lot for me to take. I can't help but let out a whimper.

That's when the Mog throws a dagger at me. It hit the board I'm laying right beside my rib. He missed. He does it as if he's playing a dart.

"Lorics will become a race of dead rats," he says. "We will hunt each one of you until there's nothing left." He throws another dagger and hit next to my ears. "The time is near before Beloved Leader reveals himself to the world. He will know about everything I did for his name..."

"You will die too!" I scream.

A dagger hit my right arm. I writhe in pain, my blood starting to flow out from my skin. It feels like my muscles are grasped away from my body.

"Dr. Cazrof!" The Mog yells.

A clumsy thin Mogadorian came in quickly inside the cell and salute at the Mog.

"Lt. Rolin-Ev!" Dr. Cazrof, the clumsy Mog says.

"How are the results?" Lt. Rolin-Ev gives me a death-stare.

"I-I'm working on it. His vitals are fine, but useless." I narrow my eyes. How dare him. "Though w-we have to keep him alive to have the Legacies work."

"Excellent."

Dr. Cazrof goes to the table from where the other equipment is placed.

"What are you doing with my Legacies?" I tell Lt. Rolin-Ev. He stares at me.

"Oh. Like I said, we will use it to locate your friends. But don't worry, we're just gonna have the telepathy. You'll get them back before we kill you."

My blood rises up.

The doctor type something in his computer and does some expert moves in his machines before he finally looks satisfied. "Legacies extracted."

"You what!" I yell, the table shakes. Dr. Cazrof stumbles from my sudden anger. My legacies are extracted! How could that happen?! They can't use me. They can't! I don't want to be the cause of everything and fail my friends. I don't want them captured. If I have to die, I'll do it. But I don't want to include my friends from these.

"Well done, doctor," the lieutenant says and stare at me. "Now lock him up. We have nothing to do with him anymore. We'll wait for Young One and let him decides... if not, I'll kill him."

I grunt in anger. I scream again. The Mog goes out of the cell and left me with the doctor. I curse and blurt out foul words at them but I don't think they're affected. That's when Dr. Cazrof remove the dagger at my arm, then stab me with an injection at my neck. I faint.