"What are they feedin' you kids these days? Air?" The gray haired man spoke casually to the girl, even as he noted just how light she was, though it hardly made draggin' her any easier with the kickin' and the screamin' - or attempt at screamin' goin' on behind the gag, and all. She was 16, maybe 17 - be about his daughter's age, were she with them anymore.

"Now settle down." He growled low, tossing her into a steel chair even as he pulled out a set of cuffs to lock her wrists to the seat's arms with. Beside her sat another youth, this'n a boy, in his mid 20s, his eyes open and vacant as he stared up at the ceiling. A fly landed on his pupil, which had gone gray and empty some days prior, to no reaction, dark stains pooled around his legs. She screamed again.

"I know, darlin' I know. It ain't fair, it ain't right. But that's life, sweetheart. Life isn't fair or right. Its cruel, and mean and the people who don't deserve it get the worst of it." He hunkered down a bit in front of her, eyes fixin' with hers. "Now if I remove this gag, you gonna be nice and quiet? Screamin' really won't do you no good here, other than make'n me mad." She nodded furiously, and he reached forward, pulling away duct tape and a rolled up washrag that had worked to keep her silent.

"I'll do anything, just... just don't hurt me." He heard her whimper softly, and frowned as he saw her spread her legs a bit wider, "ANYTHING." He stood sharply, shaking his head as he turned his back to her, dragging a cart full of tools towards the char. "Don't be gross, girl." he scolded, picking up a saw and examining it in the dim light of the warehouse he'd dragged her into. "I'm a father, for Christ's sake." Her eyes grew wide, angry at first, then hopeful. "Then... then how would you feel if this was happening to your kid?!" He spun on her then, steely blue eyes locking with her own Amber, ones, face turning down in a growing scowl.

"Sweetheart, this is happening because of my daughter." He could see the blossom of recognition in her eyes at the comment. "I didn't do anything to her!" He shook his head, "No you didn't." He took a step toward her, saw still clutched in one hand. "But your kind sure did." He watched her expression turn sour, angry. "You're just a bigot." She spat, and he couldn't help but smile at the resolve even in the face of what she had to realize was her death. "Maybe, but here's what I know, girl. If it weren't for mutants, like yourself." He motioned at her, looking over her dark gray skin, "My family would still be here." He bent down to look her in the face, "Now, I took your gag out to give you an opportunity for a last word, if'n you want it."

She glared at him, then sneered. "You can't do this." He just sighed, shaking his head and standing back up, pressing the saw to the edge of her neck, "Sweetheart - that's what everyone of you says." She growled, and spoke louder, "NO! I mean you CAN'T. My skin is like iron, you won't even be able t" She was cut off mid word by her own scream as he gave one pull of the saw, sharp blades digging into flesh and slicing, tearing meat as the first splashes of blood stained her shoulder, her expression fading to one of horror and shock.

"That's what you all say." He repeated grimly, "You shouldn't be able to see me, I'm invisible." He mocked a boy's voice, "Why can't I shrink and get out of this chair?" an older man's voice, "Why won't you do what I tell you to? Why can't I read your mind?" A young girl's voice. He looked down at her, pulling the saw away from her neck and letting drops of crimson hit the concrete floor as he looked down at her, fear frozen on her face, the light playing off his own, and casting it in shadow - silhouetting him against the overhead lamps. "W...what are y...you?" she rasped out brokenly.

"I'm a father." he repeated, "And if it makes you feel any better, darlin'. I'm just sendin' you and the rest of these... " He motioned at the 3 or 4 additional bodies handcuffed to chairs that had come before her "on ahead of me. When you get to Hell, you tell 'em I'm comin'. Make sure they save a spot with the rest of the muties for me. Now..." He brought the gag he had removed back up, forcing it into her mouth and reapplying the duct tape even as her struggles began anew. "Lets get started on that message, sweetheart." She screamed.