A Synlet Fanfiction
Chapter Six: Startling
Apparently Syndrome's base was on the coast. When the jet descended, instead of sturdy ground it hit crushing waves, nearly jostling Violet and Jak Jak to the point of sickness.
While Violet tried to stop her dinner from coming up, Jak Jak rushed to the window to look out at the never ending blue of the ocean. He oohed and aahed and pointed and screamed for her to come and look at all the fish, but Violet was in no mood. They were getting deeper and deeper into Syndrome's base and even though they were in the safe, spacious room of the manta jet, claustrophobia set in as her once beloved world caved in around her, cracking and revealing the cold prison steel behind it.
No no no no no this is all wrong!
"I don't want to be his prisoner!" sobbed Violet, dropping her head into her hands. "I want to go home!"
Jak Jak looked over at his sister, baffled. Cautiously, he went up to her. "But sis," he said, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder, "nothin' bad's happened so far. Buddy's nice." He smiled.
Violet looked up at him through tear-stained fingers, sniffing sloppily. Oh, how she wished she had his naivety. He truly thought Syndrome was a good man. It was a shame he was too young to understand the danger.
Or, maybe it's a blessing.
Fearless in the face of fear itself- even if he had no clue.
She nodded at him, her smile softening. "Yes," she said, "you're right. There's nothing to fear."
He gave her a big grin. "Right!"
I have to be strong for him. I must not show him how much I'm afraid right now. I can't tell him how evil Syndrome is. He must not know. Then, maybe…
"Violet, I think we're landing!"
Maybe we can make it through this thing.
Indeed, they were landing. The engines hummed and began to whir as they slowed to a stop. There was a small jolt- nothing big, and the jet hissed as everything prepared to shut down. Violet tensed; she didn't know what was going to happen next.
"Alright," said one of the guards as he entered, two other men following behind him with equally intimidating guns, "no funny business."
"Okay!" Jak Jak rushed forward, pushing past the two men as he skipped next to Syndrome who was standing behind them, smirking back at Violet with that irritating aura around him.
"I shall see you later, sweetheart," he said with casual coolness. Her simple response was flat out fury.
"Don't you dare hurt him!" she screamed, leaping up to her feet, the soldiers cocking their guns. She pointed at him with doom in her eyes. "If you hurt a single hair on his head, I swear to God I will come after you and smash that giant melon head of yours into tiny little bloody pieces!"
"Of course." He bowed at her, still giving him that horrible, horrible smirk that curdled her blood and made her brow hurt from scowling so deeply. Then, he turned, leading Jak Jak away.
"Bye!" Her little brother waved at her happily.
"Bye…" She waved back, plastering a smile on her face… But when he disappeared around the corner, her face fell, her hand coming down to her side, clenching. She slammed her eyes shut, not allowing herself to cry the tears of worry that were building in the back of her throat.
"C'mon, girlie!" The guard prodded her with the end of his gun. "Let's get going."
She glared at him, but she did as she was told. She walked forward and immediately she was surrounded- a man behind her and two men on either side of her. She frowned; she wasn't going anywhere.
I guess I'm not getting back home anytime soon…
She hoped that everybody wouldn't worry too much. Mostly, she was afraid her father would do something drastic, something that most fathers whose only daughters were taken captive by evil men would do. She wasn't even sure if her mother's hot temper could stop the wrath of Mr. Incredible, especially when it came to Syndrome.
And then there was Tony. He had gone through so much his young life. Only a year older than her, and he had to take care of a daughter that wasn't really even his. Now, she was making him worry over her disappearance, she knew. And he would worry and worry and worry because he loved her very much, and Heather would cry and cry and cry because her very special husband/partner in crime was gone, too.
I'm sorry, everyone. Her thoughts echoed with sorrow. I didn't want this to happen. I tried my best, but I failed.
She frowned. She only failed because Syndrome was nasty, stupid, and she absolutely hated him because he wanted to taint her little brother. What sort of horrible revenge was that? It was wrong on so many levels, and if she didn't think that her actions could put Jak Jak into danger, she would have beaten that man up long ago.
But she couldn't do that. There were two giant- albeit stupid- looking men flanking her on all sides, and Jak Jak was out of reach. She was trapped, had lost the upper hand, and she had no choice but to bow to that stupid man's demands.
I hate you, she seethed, barely noticing they had stopped in front of a large door. I hate you and I will never like you, you horrible, horrible man.
She hated him because he had taken her brother. She hated him because he had taken her. She hated him because he had put a hole through her apartment, made her family's lives miserable, and had isolated her from the people she loved.
But mostly, she hated him for how he kept her here.
He didn't even have to do a damn thing, because no matter how much she hated him, no matter how many holes he created, and no matter how many hearts were breaking so many miles away, she wouldn't leave him.
She couldn't leave him.
She was his.
"Damn it," she whispered, her voice wavering. "Damn it all to hell."
The metal hallway they walked through didn't cheer her up. The rude jokes the guards cracked around her didn't cheer her up. The view of a massive satellite being built didn't cheer her up. The approaching hallway filled with soft, white carpet didn't cheer her up. The large mahogany door they led her towards didn't cheer her up. The contents behind said door might have cheered her up if it wasn't for what the guard on her right said.
"Welcome home," he said with a sarcastic smirk, opening the door by swiping a card on a panel on the right. Violet wondered why Syndrome had even bothered with putting a doorknob on the door in the first place, and then decided that he was so rich, he could have put a teleporter outside and it wouldn't have mattered one bit.
The guard pushed her inside, and she stumbled, catching herself and wheeling back around to lash out her unbridled fury against him, but instead of kicking him in the groin, she found her foot slamming against solid wood.
She howled, hopping up and down, clutching onto her throbbing toes. "Come back here!" she called out to him, looking extremely odd; a tottering twig of a thing threatening a mass of muscle and metal. "Come back here and face me like a man!"
Unfortunately for her, the man didn't return, leaving her screaming and hollering at nothing. Her face flamed with fury and embarrassment and she hobbled around, leaning against the wall, looking angrily out in front of her.
Anger turned into shock, and she stared. All that she had ever learned and experienced told her that any prison cell a super was thrown into was dark, cold, depressing, and altogether gloomy. This, however, was none of those things.
In fact, each and every single thing that she saw was hers.
It was her apartment, untouched and undestroyed by minions. It was simple, not very fashionable, and very small, but it was hers, down to each and every scratch mark and stain. The smell was different- crisper, and perhaps a little metallic- but not a single detail was lost to the visible eye.
She ran her hand across the wall, over the pictures of her family, across her diplomas and awards for being the best she could be, and around the corner into her living room where, right in the middle of her tired couch, was a rather bored Kitty.
"Kitty!" She ran forward, her heart filling with love and relief. She had been so worried about her fat, haughty, wonderful friend, and she was here in her home, and everything was perfect. There were no worries, no cares, and everything was just as it once was- safe.
"Jak Jak, time to get up!" She was reaching for Kitty, his giant green eyes turning towards her. "Your apples are out waiting-"
Her hand touched him. Kitty shifted- but in a way like snow does in wind, swirling and in small, little pieces. In mid meow, the sound distorted, and electronic buzzing scratched along the tone. Violet pulled back with a snap, holding her hand to her chest as she watched the hologram return back to it's natural shape.
The Kitty blinked at her. "That wasn't very smart of you," it said in a proud, irritating, sarcastic tone that made her blood boil, snapping her back into reality, her whole body buzzing from the impact.
It had been a short time, too short, but for a little bit… just for a little bit…
I was home.
"Syndrome!" she yelled at the hologram, feeling more than a little bit awkward, a little voice repeating in her head, you are yelling at Kitty.
But it wasn't Kitty. It was Syndrome, in all his big-headed, big-eared glory.
"Why are you yelling at me?" asked Syndrome, his furry feline eyebrows arching, accenting the already deep wrinkles on the hologram's face. "I gave you your home back!" He turned around, flicking his tail at her. "Ungrateful witch…"
Violet frowned. This wasn't her home. It had been- only for a little while- but now she saw it for what it was: a load of crock.
Still… she had to admire the detail. Looking around at all of the furniture, she asked, "Are these things holograms, too? Or am I going to go right through them?"
"They're solid." Syndrome turned back to her, his feline back straightening as he gave a snide look. "I'm not dumb enough to give you intangible furniture."
"Everything is very detailed." Violet looked around again, and then she slid her eyes over to him, arching a thin eyebrow. "Have you been spying on me?"
He jerked back slightly, caught off guard. Then, much to her disgust, he gave her a feral grin.
"The places where you can put a camera…"
A/N: Short, disappointing filler chapter. My apologies! Things will speed up soon, promise. :)