(A/N: ONLY PLAY THE SONG AT THE END IF YOU DARE!! This is really, REALLY sad and really, REALLY dark. I got the inspiration from my Roleplay book. Read if you so desire!)

(The song is not owned by me. It's from the indie game, to the moon. Go check it out, it is a very beautiful game!)

(P.S.: Prepare for feels)

He floated in the center of the giant test tube, his bony limbs hanging weakly at his sides in the clear liquid. His blonde, shaggy hair falling in his face as his head hung limply.

He had been caught. He had been taken. They took his clothes, all but his boxers. He didn't even have the chance to fight.

Those kids did it. Those darn twins. The two he had been trying to keep from discovering the mysteries and illusions of this stupid county! Why didn't they see that he was just trying to protect them?

He had banged at the glass numerous times but, each time, they would adjust the liquid, making him more fatigued. He was unable to use his powers. The liquid prevented that. He couldn't fight anymore. The liquid and test "samples" taken from him had taken a toll on his body. All he could do now was float limply in the transparent liquid, waiting for the day that he'd be released from the torture.

Suddenly, there was a knock. He looked up to see them. The people that he had loathed for putting him in this tube for so long were standing there, in the observation deck, watching as his body hung limp in the tube. He looked at them, begging for release with his eye alone, the other one being an empty socket. "Help me.....Please," he begged, silently.

There was a click as the door to his room opened, revealing two agents. They had been there every time. Every time the "samples" were taken. One man had raven-black hair and a mustache. The other had light brown hair in an army haircut. It was that time of day. The time when the "samples" were taken.

It hurt at first. No, it still hurt. The pain just wouldn't ever be different. It was unbearable pain. Pain like no other. Pain that would drive one mad. But, he had to endure it. What's worse was, they were here to watch him.

The two took their places. The mustached man watching the vial on the side of the tube and the other getting ready to pull the lever. The raven-haired man looked up at him, said something, then laughed. He couldn't hear what they were saying anymore. Whatever it was, it was probably not important.

They would always make fun of him before pulling the switch. It was some sort of sick tradition now. They'd say something about him, his appearance for example, and then pull the switch.

Whatever it was, the twins and their summer caretakers didn't seem to laugh. They stood silently, watching him.

They had put heart monitors on him to make sure that, when they took the "samples", his heart rate wasn't too fast. He had taught himself to lower his heart rate so that it would be over quicker.

The agents looked over their shoulders at the observation deck, making sure their guests could all see before mustache told his colleague to pull the switch. They had forgotten to check the heart monitor.

The liquid sparked as he clenched his fists. He bit his lip to keep from yelling but to no avail. Tears streamed down his face as his closed eyes released a waterfall of pained tears.

There was a slamming of a door and a smash of glass before he felt himself face plant onto a cold surface. He heard the heart monitor as the beeps came at unsteady, quick intervals.

He opened his eyes, weakly and looked up at his savior. It was the female twin. She had saved him. After all she thought he'd done, she'd saved him.

She knelt down beside him, looking distraught, one hand holding her signature grappling hook. She said something to him. He couldn't pick it up. He was in too much pain.

Her brother ran up to her side, trying to hold her back. He said something to her but she pushed him away. She came back to his side and yelled something, tears coming to her eyes.

The monitor kept up its quick pace. It showed no signs of slowing down. His heart rate was too high. It was beating too fast. He knew that it was too late. He took one last deep breath and said his last words, "Thank you shooting star.."

Beeeeeeep...