One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

Posted on Sat Jul 2nd, 2011 @ 12:44pm by Lieutenant Xylia Lischka

Mission: Too Close for Comfort...
Location: Containment Facility, Archadia III
Timeline: Following 'Whispers In the Dark

Lieutenant Xylia Lischka sat in the corner of the cell watching those around her. Her face said it all. She was pissed. Far beyond actually. Murderous rage coursed through her veins, the color of red long since seeped into her vision, and the only thing that was stopping her from acting upon it at this present moment was the fact that there were five innocent people who could be taken out in the midst of the chaos.

If she started now, there was no way she would stop, and she knew it. Those innocent lives could very well be taken by her own two hands. The Lieutenant was no stranger to blood and gore, and she was more than willing to rip someone from limb to limb, beating them to death with their own appendages. It was that fact that scared the hell out of her. Never before had she wanted to hurt something... someone... so bad in her life. The thought of blood on her hands, warm and bright, sent a shiver down her spine. Of course, when dealing with other speicies, who knew what color she was going to get, but that didn't matter. The warmth would be there, and that's all that mattered to her.

The guards came into her line of vision. Was it wrong to picture them laying on the ground, bits and pieces of their body matted against the walls... floor... ceiling? Was it wrong to want to rip them apart... claw out their insides... make them beg to whatever God they believed in for mercy? At present, the scenario was a most pleasant one, and in her murderous enraged mind, she couldn't find anything wrong with the mental images her subconscious was conjuring up.

Pushing herself to her feet, Xylia began to pace the floor, raking her hands through her blood matted hair. Her palms itched and her mind whirled, begging her to do something. Anything. But, yet, she fought it with everything she had. What she wouldn't give to wrap her hands around the throat of one of those guards and squeeze... squeeze so hard and watch the life seep from her body. Squeeze even harder until her eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets. Her hands flexed at the thought, another shiver traveling down her spine. She could feel the windpipe beneath her hands, then the crunching feeling it made as it began to be crushed...

What the hell was wrong with this picture? The guards were outnumbered, and yet, the crew was sitting around with their thumbs up their asses like they were having a fucking tea party. She wanted to yell... scream... tell them to move their asses and do something instead of sitting around wasting precious air like bumps on a log. She wanted them to take action instead of sitting around like victims. They were officers of Starfleet. This was not proper behavior. Maybe it was the fact she was Security. Maybe it was the fact that one of their party was already down and in need of medical attention. Maybe it was the fact she was so pissed off she could shit fire and piss lightning. Whatever it was... it was driving her to a dark place.

Turning on her heel, she stopped and looked toward the ceiling. Her head throbbed... a more than welcome distraction at the present moment. What she needed was a drink. Something that would burn going down and put the proverbial hair on her chest. But, if she were having that drink, she wouldn't be in her current situation, and that started the wheels in her mind to start turning all over again.

The Lieutenant was not in a happy place.