August 15, 2002the gathering pt 2 [runs-with-spirits][northwest national labs, atlantic city, nj]
**torture scene, potentially offensive**
how long has it been (hours, days, weeks) where the bane infested darkness has been her only companion (the steady leech of her strength) SickBoy's drugs still latent sedation thickening (blood, mind, tongue) awareness to a snail's pace
there's a temptation to stay the tap knocking air from reversal's syringe (he's seen air in a junkie's vein) to indulge in the agony he could bring
but it's forsaken
properly (safely) introducing this new (saving grace) poison and retreating to the shadows by the wall to wait her wake
It's been forever, and never, and moments and years that she's remained broken upon the table, tears long since dried, in drug and pain induced sleep that ticks the moments off one by ever slow one. the prick of the needle unnoticed in the (..oppressive..) dark haze of agony where she resides, though it pulls her relentlessly toward consciousness agian.there's a rumble in the darkness (that moan of a woman as she wakes) a creature purring its (gluttonous) content
that voice
creeping from nowhere and everyhwere at once (do you hear it or is it only in your mind) the nightmare that never lets go"It still hurts..... doesn't it...."
whispered (crooning, infecting..... addicting)
Eyes remain close - tightly now as the voice (invades) comes again - nightmare that slams through waking throbbing ache as tears seep through lashes, spilling down her face where she is bound (...broken...)
"g'way, lemme alone"it chuckles (seeths) footsteps beginning to circle (a shark closing in on drowning prey)
"Answer a few questions and I'll let you go back to sleep, unharmed, untouched.....I think that sounds a fair trade, don't you?"
aa choked cry (she will not allow hope to flair. there is no hope.) as lips press tight togther, before whimpering softly
"you'll never let me go... will you."the darkness births his form, leaning a hip against the table, arms folded over chest
"That's not for me to decide. But even we don't keep someone strapped to a table forever. However, I am the only one that keeps SickBoy's hands off of you while you lay, helpless, here......
the voice drifts away (malicious gleam hiding behind those eyes) how finicky can he be - just what would he let happen if she does not cooperate
"Where is your Caern?"
She can't hide the quake his threat runs through her, the thought of being violated by that...that... thing... in that way... eyes remain closed, knowing he is so close is not helping at all - knowing there is no hope. She will be killed - and it will be unbarably painful throughout. She will die making Gaia proud.
"I have no Caern.""Liar"
he shifts towards the table (there's a gurgling giggle - excited - from somewhere in the shadows) and the toys held on display, one picked up to glint in the light hanging above the table, musing
"Do you have any idea how long I can keep you alive? No matter the trauma? Where is your Caern......"
The giggle pulls a wounded cry from deep within, and she aches to turn her head away, and eyes are still closed tight and teeth grind.
...this is one she will. not. answer...
"I have no Caern."demin falls apart beneath sharp blade tracing a leg's length of seam (the giggling increases - hungry for the flesh it tasted.... for what it will taste)
"I don't like liars..... Runs-with-Spirits...... you've one more chance."
fingers slide up her inner thigh
"Where" talons tickling sensitive flesh "is" tender piece chosen "your" bladetip caressing skin "Caern" and held at ready
(all this time, the giggling melting into pleading whine)
"pleasepleasedon't.."
The whimper falls past her lips before she can stop it, teeth grinding as talons slide up now bared flesh, eyes squeezed tightly shit, searing pain in still broken (yet mending) wrists as she strains against bonds before pressing back in hopes table will swallow her and save her from this agony
..but still. does. not. answer.the laughter mocks her struggle away
"Think you can sidestep when the banes have drained you? You've much to learn little girl......"
blade slices clean, another piece plucked and tossed into the darkness (caught, crunched, the wet moaning sounds of her flesh consumed by the monster laying in wait)
"I'll stop if you tell me where your Caern is."
her cry rises again as blade slices, agonized wail as warm blood flows and the sounds (consumption) from the darkness tearing at tender fabric of her mind... teeth grinding as she struggles to hold her (..rage..) terror in check, skin ripping in wait for her control to fade..
"fuck. you. I have no Caern!"denim along her other leg falls prey, shreds of jeans pulled away (leaving only that soft cotton in defense) he reaches to tap the noose around her neck in gentle reminder, sneering
"It's not me you'll be fucking......"
talontips trail across her belly, spiraling glyphs in blood
"Sickboy?" (shuffles move towards the table) his head tips "Where is your Caern."
She quakes (..terror..) but the brief glimpse of blue in wide eyed fear shows she'd rather the noose then sickboy - she won't survive this anyway. Her belly sucks in under trailing knife, eyes slamming closed again - unable to watch, her voice a trembling wail.
"nooooooooooooo!"
fists clenching in bonegrinding clutch"Wouldn't you rather answer my questions than wake to the question of what's that feeling lingering" crawling, wriggling "between your thighs?"
he knows she'll use the noose to her advantage (he planned on it) another pair of hands slides up her legs (wet, rough) but disappear into the shadows again as her eyes fly open (is it a dream or reality)
"I can tell him to stop..... you just need to tell me where your Caern is."
Tears stream from her eyes as another pair of hands join, eyes opening finally to plead with Asher, her skin rippling - raging out of control as she shakes her head the best she can... her body quaking as she looses what little control she had - the thought of that....thing... between her thighs, everything that it would leave eating at her...
"i'd rather die"again, mockery colors his laugh
"That's the thing little one...... "
leaning down to croon next to her ear (those crusty hands returning to her thighs, it's only minutes until fetid tongue joins again) that (beautiful) voice enchanting
"If you don't tell me...... I'll let him have you for months..... and I'll make sure you never die...... or you can tell me now and we both go away. Maybe you'll die.... maybe you'll be let go..... maybe you'll find out this is all a dream......"
she flinches away from him as he leans over her and finally opts for the noose rather then the horror of his words become reality, shift that trembles in wait racing through her system - aiming for stranglation rather then tell him anything...
softly, a deadly whisper
"I hope you enjoy his touch being the last you remember as you pass out....... I hope the dreams of what he does to you infect your mind forever, just as his baby will infect your womb."
that gaze holds hers as the noose tightens around her neck (did you realize how long it would take for you to pass out?) weight of the (hideous, dripping) creature climbing onto the table, it's cruddy fingers ripping find fabric from her flesh even as fur overtakes it, mad giggles filling her ears
and the Galliard walks away.
"NNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
Terrorfied wail turned desparate growling cry as she strains agaisnt the noose, hoping for faster death then what happens above her fabric shredded as fur spills from skin and giggles fill her mind and ear, struggling increasing as she pulls against her bindings in ragefilled glaze of pain - the animal backed into a corner fights the hardestthere's an (uneven) glance over his shoulder - knowing as soon as she slips from consciousness her body will revert and the noose will loosen - and she'll wake to the terror of knowing she let herself be violated when all she had to do was speak....... everything she could have avoided, all the pain she could have saved
even if the creature that tears at her skin (and buries itself deep inside) is only a terrible dream
Mind snaps with the horror that assaults her her screams rising to fever pitch of wounded animal before mercifully (perhaps) struggles overload agonized body and she slips from consciousness
[as she slips from consciousness, the fabric of the mind creature will, also, disappear] Posted by asher at August 15, 2002 12:00 AM
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