Welcome to Gaia! ::

Sweat beaded on Alex's skin as he struck the mattress with what felt like his millionth punch. He had been using the mattress from his bed, which he had moved to now be leaning against the wall, as a punching bag for over half an hour now. Such physical activity had three purposes. For starters, it let him forget about the gray linoleum walls, steel doors, and constant misery that surrounded him at all hours of the day. It also kept him fit, helped him work on controlling his power, and improve his fighting skills. Lastly, it kept him from simply repeatedly going over what he'd do to everyone in this godforsaken place if he ever actually got out. Those thoughts had helped keep him from going insane at first, but there wasn't much help they could give him now.

Alex took a step back from the thoroughly beaten inanimate object so he could catch his breath for a moment. As he stood there panting, his mind wandered to the events of two years ago, the night he'd been 'invited' to this lovely place. He'd been living on the streets, fighting whenever he had to get food or shelter, and he'd finally found a place to stay the night during a thunderstorm. At first the four guys that were already under the overhang to get out of the rain didn't want to share it with him, but its easy to persuade someone to your way of thinking when you can grow brass knuckles and armor on a whim. The four of them had left and he had the place all to himself, at least until the black van came. It was like a scene from an action movie. A group of people in what looked like S.W.A.T. gear had poured out of the back and all trained their guns on Alex, who could do nothing but put up his hands as he was told to. Suddenly there was a p***k to his neck like a shot at the hospital, and the whole world began to spin before falling into oblivion. When he'd woken up, he was here and had been greeted with the rules before being left alone.

Shaking the memories from his head, Alex held up his hands in front of him and concentrated. Almost immediately a white substance he knew to be bone covered the backs of his hands and his fingers up to the first joint. With his bone brass knuckles in place, he continued to beat on the mattress as if doing so could erase everything that had happened since that night.