Note: All major characters are the property of Marvel Comics. No money is being made off this story, and please ask before circulating or archiving this story. This is my first post so I would LOVE to hear some feedback, please e-mail me at Tarot666@aol.com. Thanks and I hope you enjoy.

    Cold, gray walls. Everyday I sit and look at the same four cold, gray walls. Every day I get up, I sit on this bed, I stare at these walls, I eat the trash these people try and pass off as food, I stare at the walls some more and I go to bed. The next day I get up and do the same thing. Days have no meaning any more, I couldn't tell you what month it is, or even what day of the week. Nothing means anything anymore. Not getting out, not surviving, nothing. I stopped caring a long time ago.

    I woke up tonight because I heard screams. They must have brought in anew girl. Sounds young, I wonder which one of those world dominating bastards got her stuck in this place. She still sounds like she's got some fight left in her. She's still yelling at the guards calling them names, threatening them. They'll teach her, they'll... break her. Just like they did to me.

    But I was easy to break. They found me unconscious, lying near a battle scene. They thought I was dead, but I wasn't. I wish I was now. My teammates must have thought I was dead, or didn't care. So they left me. I guess they figured I wasn't worth bothering with. I woke up the next day in this cell, this collar around my neck, neutralizing my powers. Not that with my powers I could out. I was never really powerful, basically I just made it easier for the others to kill. At first I hoped that the others would come save me, maybe HE would make them come save me. That was foolish, HE doesn't need me. Or at least this me, I'm sure HE has already replaced me. HE replaced me a long time ago. And no one else would care whether or not I'm alive. That's why I can be kept here, no trial, no fair justice, nothing. They just locked me away here, to keep me away from everyone else. To watch me all the time.

    They watch me while I bathe, and they have sneers on their faces. They laugh and make crude jokes about "getting a piece of that" and "showing that mutie scum what a real man is like". Sometimes they touch themselves, and sometimes they touch me. I learned a long time ago not to try and stop them. The first time one of them touched me I broke his nose, then his friends broke mine, and my arm, and then they.....Not that it's the first time someone has touched me like that. They all did. They all took turns touching me. They treated me like a little play thing. I've never had my own identity. Ever since I was changed others have used me. Used me as a plaything, as a servant, as a weapon. And I followed them, I let them treat me as an object.

    The new girl is still yelling. I hope she keeps it up for a while. I don't want to go back to sleep. When I sleep I dream. I dream of HIM, and the others, and then I hear the screams. I wish I could have been found by someone other than HIM. Like the other, the one who treats his followers with respect and love. Maybe then I could have been happy. But no when I escaped from home I was found by that Cajun, and he brought me to HIM. And then the others came, horrible, viscous, cruel killers. And I helped them. I went with them and helped them murder hundreds of people. Not only adults, but children, old men, and sick people. And every night I hear their cries in my dreams.

    I'm staring at the walls again. Tonight, hearing the new girl's screams I want out again. I want out, and I want to make the screams start. I want out. I want out. I want.......

    "OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

    The new girl has stopped screaming. A guard comes down and yells at me to be quiet. He says don't think that just because this new one is screaming that I can forget what and where I am. I laugh, who am I now, I ask him. Who do you want me to be? He stares at me for a second and walks away. I continue to laugh. I want out, I want to be myself, and I'll never figure out what that means until I get out.

    The new girl has started again, she sounds more frantic this time. Less hostile and more desperate. Silently I thank the new girl. I lay down, and listen to her, and drift off into sleep. I hear the cries again, but there not as loud this time.

* * *

    Morning comes. She stands up and walks over to the mirror, and stares at her reflection for a long time. Looking for something, but not knowing what that is. She looks at her silver-green hair and begins to run her fingers through it. For The first time she realizes that she is an attractive woman. She thinks about some of the stories the other Marauders used to tell about women who used their looks as weapons. She remembers some of the characters on TV. They way they moved, they way they talked and the way they turned men on. She thought about how she could use this, to get out. To remove this collar and free herself.

    Then once outside she could begin to rebuild, no build her life. Maybe she could contact the X-Men. Maybe they would help her. They've done things like that before she thinks. Maybe they would even let her join them, and then she could get even with Sinister.

    She was still looking into the mirror. Staring right into her own eyes. "I am Vertigo, and I will be my own person".

    With that she walked over to cell door and called for the guard.

The End.

Well thanks for wasting a few minutes of your life reading this. Please send any comments to Tarot666@aol.com, but please be kind!