Blakesley
Blakesley parked his car in the driveway of his father's house, so that the back of the car was nearest the house.
Another touch of a button on the remote ensured Christian's continued unconsciousness.
The scientist got out of the car and went and knocked on the front door.
Blakesley Snr
Isaac Blakesley twisted the handle of his walking cane, contemplating who could be at the door.
Another one of the puzzles in life that were sometimes never completed.
After the second knock, he let the cane hit the ground and help him stand. He made way way to the door, kept the chain in place, and opened it slightly.
Blakesley
"Father? It's me. And I brought a guest," Blakesley said clearly through the gap in the door.
"Christian Thomas. However, he's slightly...unconscious at the moment."
Blakesley Snr
Blakesley's father hesitated for a moment, thinking it over.
He closed the door, undid the chain, then opened it again.
"This is a Dathrian you were telling me about, correct?"
Blakesley
"Yes."
Blakesley nodded.
"I thought you might like the chance to practice the Art again. He's quite harmless at the moment. He's wearing a control collar I designed."
Blakesley Snr
"Then what are you waiting for? Bring him in."
Isaac Blakesley stepped aside a little.
"The wheelchair is useful for such a thing... if you need it."
Blakesley
"That would be best, I think," Blakesley said.
He got the wheelchair, then loaded Christian's limp body into it.
Carefully, he wheeled the alien inside the house.
"Is the old room still...functional?"
Blakesley Snr
"With some slight adjustments..."
Blakesley's father closed the door behind his son, and bolted it several times.
"I've been doing some decorating. I just recently cleaned it from last time. Which as you know, was a long time ago..."
Blakesley
"Yes, I do remember..."
Blakesley wheeled Christian down the hallway and opened a door.
It was a relatively nondescript door on casual inspection. However, it was backed with soundproof insulation and made of a quite substantial steel. It had a series of locks on the out and inside which were unconnected to each other.
Blakesley took Christian inside and looked around at the room.
Blakesley Snr
"I got a friend to install some new lights..."
His father flicked a switch, and three rows of bright down-lights slowly faded on.
"Gives it more of the cellar feel, don't you think? I got rid of the rust in the corner cage, and replaced the wooden table with stainless steel. Easier to clean."
Blakesley
"That's true," Blakesley agreed.
"Wood...tends to hold the blood. Should I put him on the table, or the St. Andrew's Cross?"
Blakesley Snr
"The cross I think. So much more meaningful for when he awakens."
He stepped to the side of Christian, and looked down at him.
"This is the telekinetic that caused all the damage?" he raised an eyebrow.
Blakesley
"Yes," Blakesley said briefly.
He strapped Christian's arms to the outspread upper beams of the cross, then bent to strap his ankles to the lower ones.
"We underestimated him. Not something I am willing to do this time."
Blakesley Snr
"Assuredly not."
Blakesley's father took Christian's place in the wheelchair, and gazed up at him.
He squinted a little as he looked into his face.
"He could almost be an angel..." he tilted his head slightly, "his face is so... well formed. Almost perfect in a way..."
Blakesley
Blakesley lifted Christian's head by the hair slightly.
"He's a clone of one Taylor Hanson. I'm looking into acquiring him again also. Just for comparasion. Wouldn't that be interesting? To see which one broke fastest..."
He tutted slightly.
"He's dyed his hair back and had his eyebrow pierced. Barbaric custom. The drug should start to wear off soon."
Blakesley Snr
His father scratched his chin.
"What is his current mental state?" he asked, almost wistfully.
"It will have a great deal to do with the time it takes."
Blakesley
"Mostly unstable, but he seems to think that I can't make him scream," Blakesley said with a hint of scorn.
"I think we can prove him wrong."
Christian
"That we can," his father replied softly, eyeing movement in Christian's fingers.
He sat up, handling his walking cane firmly.
Christian held back a groan as he cringed slightly, then tried to open his eyes. He blinked rapidly for a moment, before looking up without moving his head.
He could see Blakesley nearby out the corner of his eye, and someone in a wheelchair.
He closed his eyes again tiredly.
Blakesley
"Welcome back, Christian. I would like you to meet my father. He taught me all I know..."
Blakesley tightened his grip in Christian's hair slightly.
"I think I did tell you, Father, that Christian is the one who killed Rebekah."
Christian
Christian clenched his teeth a little at the pull on his hair, and lifted his head slightly so it lessened.
"I do remember you saying..." Blakesley's father began softly.
"I didn't $#!+ing kill her. Chris is the one who delivered the final blow."
He looked sideways at Kaleb.
"I just had some fun with her before she did."
Blakesley
"She was going to die before that. The amount of blood made it just a matter of time..."
Blakesley shook his head slightly.
"Your methods, so crude."
Christian
Christian gave a tug on the straps around his wrists.
"Did you see any photos from the autopsy?" he almost sneered, keeping his head up, "thought you might like my little drawing."
Blakesley Snr. watched on silently.
Blakesley
"That possibly showed some promise," Blakesley said thoughtfully.
"Pity you're not going to get to develop it."
Christian
"And you're betting your $#!+ing life on it whether you like it or not."
"Boys, boys..." Blakesley's father tutted, "there'll be plenty of time to squabble later on."
He tilted his head again, noticing that Christian's eyes never left his son's face.
"Since we are still at the stage of introductions, I believe we can introduce young Christian to the uses of this room."
Blakesley
"Which should be clearly evident. Simply put, this room and the objects contained therein are there to practice the Art of Pain."
Blakesley let go of Christian's hair and wiped his hand off on his pants.
"Bit of a family tradition..."
Christian
"I can handle pain, and I am not afraid to die" Christian shook the hair out of his eyes, "so do your $#!+ing worst and see if I care."
Blakesley's father raised his eyebrows, and looked up at his son.
"I'll let you start," he offered in a low voice, "you have a lot of tension to rid yourself of."
"Is that sexual?" Christian raised his eyebrows.
Blakesley
"No...it's work related."
Blakesley bared his teeth in an almost smile and went over to one of the racks of instruments against a wall.
He studied them for a moment then picked out a slender knife.
"Let us begin."
He walked back over to Christian and removed ihs shirt with several quick flicks of the knife. He then started to draw a line down the center of Christian's chest, almost perfectly straight.
Christian
Christian watched him, with an almost bored expression on his face. Truthfully, he was just tired.
"Ouch?" he raised an eyebrow in mock pain, "let me guess... Taylor would be screaming like a girl? If you're going to cut me open you might as well take a lung out."
Blakesley
"We can work up to that," Blakesley said.
He drew another line parallel to the first.
Then he slowly started to peel the skin away.
Christian
"Cool, then you can kill me."
His left fist clenched as Kaleb pulled the skin away, and his right hand shook involuntarily.
"Accidentally, of course."
Blakesley's father just sighed.
Blakesley
"I don't think you'll get away that easily."
Blakesley finished peeling the inch wide strip of skin away and dropped it in a bucket.
He sprayed Christian's chest with antiseptic.
Christian
"Oh really?" Christian said between his teeth as he held back a hiss.
The muscles in his arms were starting to show as he slowly pulled on the straps around his wrists.
"The hard part for you will be if I become suicidal. I know a lot of ways to make amateur injuries fatal."
Blakesley
Blakesley smiled slightly.
"If you wish to think so..."
He started to heat up a blade.
Christian
Christian tilted his head back so it hit the cross, feeling the added pain of his body trying to scab over the wound already.
He took a deep breath, feeling only the top part starting to go numb.
Blakesley's father watched his son, somewhat amused.
Blakesley
Blakesley took the white hot blade and laid the tip against the bottom of Christian's chin.
Christian
Christian's body jolted slightly, but he clenched his teeth so he couldn't cry out.
Subconsciously, he tried to use his atom maniuplation on the cross. Zap.
Kaleb's father chuckled slightly as Christian tried to move his feet.
Blakesley
Blakesley watched as a shock raced through Christian from the collar.
"The collar suppresses his power and punishes him for trying to use it by means of a short electric shock," he explained to his father.
He removed the knife and started to heat it again.
Christian
Isaac Blakesley nodded.
"A nifty little device you have there..." he began.
Christian hung his head again, keeping his breathing even.
"How many do you have?"
Blakesley
"This one is specifically targeted to Christian," Blakesley said.
"But I have prototypes for three more."
He laid the blade against the wound on Christian's chest.
"They just need suitable subjects to fit them to. Probably taylor Hanson, and this hybrid Christina Terry."
Christian
His father nodded.
"You can't use one of these collars on Taylor," Christian flinched slightly, hearing the hiss of his skin burning and turning his head so he didn't have to smell it.
"For one he can't help but use his power. He can't turn it off like others can."
Blakesley
"It would be interesting to see how far the power goes."
Blakesley lifted the knife and laid it against a new patch of skin.
"Would he understand anything, or would it all be meaningless jumble?"
Christian
"I don't recall the power of Tongue ever being disabled before."
Christian flinched again.
"There's been absolutely no reason to after all. They're just as helpless as someone with x-ray vision or something."
Blakesley
"Exactly."
Blakesley looked up.
"Which makes it a wortwhile experiment."
He reheated the blade.
Christian
"You can keep your $#!+ing hands off him," Christian glared, though his eyes were half shut.
"He has enough going on at the moment without you interfering as well. And besides..."
He couldn't help but smirk.
"You don't seem to like his brother too much. And they're pretty damn close."
Blakesley's father's eyes darted to his son.
Blakesley
"I have my own issues to sort out with Taylor," Blakesley said calmly.
"And if I put one of those collars on Isaac, he won't be a problem."
Blakesley put the knife down and picked up a whip.
Christian
"So you're gonna just collar the entire family?" Christian raised his eyebrows, "I would absolutely love to see you try. Especially with Zac. He's three times your size, almost as fast as me, and can freeze your ass in 0.1 seconds."
He hesitated.
"Or melt you. Then of course, there's Jane's wolves... I'd love to see you collar them..."
Blakesley
"Most wolves find it hard to run from a bullet," Blakesley said.
"And you've proved easy enough to capture."
Christian
Isaac Blakesley nodded to himself.
"As I said so often to Chris," Christian began, eyeing the whip, "I wasn't trained that well in defence."
He pulled on his wrists again.
Blakesley
"You're not going to get free that way," Blakesley said chidingly.
He ran the length of the whip between his fingers, then raised it and sent it cracking at Christian. It landed a welt running almost exactly parallel to the strip of peeled skin. The tip flicked down Christian's cheek as well.
Christian
Christian flinched as it hit and closed his eyes, sucking in a sharp breath.
"You got a better idea?" he scorned, "and you know, you can kill someone by doing that. Stuff up their insides pretty well... maybe a heart attack or suffocation. So many variations."
He sighed.
Kaleb's father tapped his cane on the ground for a moment thoughtfully.
Blakesley
Blakesley lifted an eyebrow slightly.
"I have done this before, you know. I doubt you could handle a whip as skillfully. Everything...is an art."
He put the whip down and picked up a canister. He twisted the lid, opening it and fumes boiled from the container of liquid nitrogen.
"The...layering of sensation onto sensation."
He blinked placidly, then poured the nitrogen into Christian's shoe.
Christian
"$#!+," Christian cursed, slamming his head and shoulders back onto the cross.
He tried to lift his feet again as he felt the liquid welling in his boot.
"Now that hurts like a bitch..."
Blakesley
"It's meant to. You'll probably lose that foot," Blakesley said dispassionately.
Condensation formed on the outside of Christian's shoe as the below freezing liquid reacted with the room temperature air.
Christian
"Then you'll have fun carrying me around, won't you?" Christian glared at him.
Christian felt it bubbling up as he tried to force his leg to stop shaking, but it was uncontrollable.
He slammed his head back against the cross again, then groaned slightly.
Blakesley
"Scream. Let the pain out," Blakelsey suggested softly.
He trailed his fingers along a rack of the torture instruments, trying to decide which one to use next.
"Any preferences, father?"
Christian & Blakesley Snr
"I'd rather... die... than scream for you," Christian said softly between breaths.
He cringed again, then slammed his head gaianst the cross again.
"If he keeps doing that he's going to knock himself out," Blakesley's father said thoughtfully, sitting his cane on the ground as if he was about to stand up.
He leant on it for a moment, looking up into Christian's face.
Christian glanced at him, but turned away.
Blakesley.
"Should I pad the wood?" Blakesley said thoughtfully. "Or should I just...put a posture collar over the over one so he can't move his head?"
Christian & Blakesley Snr
Christian groaned again and closed his eyes, the shaking in his leg getting worse by thte second.
"No..." Blakesley's father said softly, "you'd have to pad it. He could still move with the collar."
He looked to the side for a moment.
"Look in that cupboard," he indicated one set into the opposite wall, "there should be some padding in there."
Blakesley.
Blakesley nodded and walked over to the cupboard his father had indicated. He opened it and removed some padding, getting a roll of silver electrical tape as well. He walked back over and moved Christian's head forehead by his hair, placing the padding bhind it, before commencing to tape the padding to the wood.
"Terribly crude, but it will do," Blakesley sighed.
He walked over to the racks and got out two silver alligator clips. He clamped them onto Christian's nipples.
Christian & Blakesley Snr
Christian closed his eyes and grunted a little, still trying to move his feet. Most of chest area had already gone numb - not that he didn't feel what Blakesley had done.
"You just know you're gonna rot in hell for this," he said almost tiredly, squinting up at the doctor, then hanging his head again.
He coughed a little, not letting the pain get past his throat.
"You almost sound like your clone. He threatened me with the same thing. But hell is just a figment of men's imagenations," Blakesley said.
He got a small generator and attached electric leads to the clamps.
"Perhaps you're in hell now."
He flicked the switch.
"If you confess your sins, will you be forgiven?"
"I can make your hell a reality," Christian insisted, "and I seriously doubt that Taylor would have the guts. And he's not my clone, I'm his. If you're going to bad mouth me then get your $#!+ing facts straight."
He winced slightly, giving in to the pain in his foot and tugging at the straps on his arms and wrists instead.
Blakesley's father raised his eyebrows.
Blakesley.
Blakesley smiled slightly, and upped the voltage.
"Yet you're the one who keeps ending up in the restraints..."
Christian stopped himself from crying out as the electricity pulsed through his body.
"And the only reason I am..." he began between jolts, "is because you know for a fact that you could never face me like the man you're supposed to be. And that scares you."
"But you'd only face me like the alien you are. I don't find the thought of having my lungs being crushed particularily attractive," Blakesley said dryly.
"You use the resources at your disposal."
He picked up a slim leather case and unzipped it. Inside needles of varying lengths and thicknesses glinted. He took one out and slowly inserted through the webbing between two of Christian's fingers.
"No," Christian corrected, laying his head back again as he closed his eyes, "even with this collar on I could kick your $#!+ing ass."
He grunted a little as his fingers tried to curl.
"I doubt that."
Blakesley slid another needle into Christian's hand.
"Well you're obviously too afraid to find out," Christian raised his eyebrows.
Now both his foot and hand were shaking uncontrollably, and he cursed himself for it.
"You, young Christian, are in no condition for a physical battle," Blakesley's father leant forward slightly, "leave the wear of your body to the professionals."
"What, like you? You're $#!+ing amateurs."
Blakesley.
Blakesley sneered slightly.
"Which once again just demonstrates the seemingly limitless depths of your ignorance."
He kept sliding needles through the soft folds of skin on Christian's hand into the wood behind, pinning his hand like an outspread butterfly.
Christian & Blakesley Snr
"Not ignorance," Christian shook his head, fighting to rid himself of the lump in his throat, "sanity. Something of which you know nothing about."
He glanced at Blakesley's father, who'd fallen silent again.
Blakesley.
"Sanity. Something highly over rated, I've always thought..."
Blakesley took a thicker needle out of the case and drove it straight through the middle of Christian's hand.
Christian & Blakesley Snr
"$#!+!" Christian almost yelled.
He tried to hit his head again, but the padding was too thick. He turned to face the other way as he felt the blood covering his hand.
"There is no way you would have done this to Taylor," he panted, "he would have been broken already."
"I did threaten to crucify him at one point. I had the nail held against his palm. And then he called me Master. So I didn't drive the nail through."
Blakesley smiled chillingly.
"And next..."
He detached the clamps from Christian's nipples, putting the generator down.
"I did this to Taylor as well..."
He slid a fine needle through both of Christian's nipples, already bleeding from the teeth of the alligator clamps.
Christian felt a shiver go through his body at the added pain in his chest, but was still occupied with the pain in his hand.
"That's because he's so $#!+ing weak," Christian said between breaths, "anyone can see that. He needs to learn how to $#!+ing defend himself."
"He just crumples...
Blakesley shook his head slightly.
"Even the human put up more of a fight then he did...what do you think, Father? Should we leave our guest to reflect?"
Christian squeezed his eyes shut.
"Certainly..." Blakesley's father said softly, then stood.
He made his way over to Christian, put a finger under his chin and lifted his head. Christian's blue eyes met Isaac Blakesley's cold grey ones.
"You have a hardened outside, but there is turmoil within," the old man almost whispered, "it should not be much longer."
"You willing to bet your ass on that?"
Isaac Blakesley smiled, then turned to his son.
"His eyes remind me of yours when you were young..."
Blakesley tilted his head slightly.
"In which way? Besides the colour, of course."
He started to pack up the instruments he had used, leaving the needles embedded in Christian's flesh.
"You used to be afraid..." Blakesley's father bagen again, looking back at Christian and tilting his head a little.
"I am not afraid," Christian almost choked out, defiantly.
Blakesley's father smiled.
"You only believe that because that's the way you were made. You're supposed to be powerful, Christian, and you're letting people down by not exploiting that power. And that alone can worry you."
Christian just sneered, before Blakesley's father ran his fingers gently through his hair and backed away a little.
"Ready, Kaleb?"
Blakesley nodded as he walked to the door.
"Emotions make you weak. Vulnerable."
"Maybe that's why Tay is so $#!+ing vulnerable," Christian muttered.
Blakesley's father silently opened the door, then led the way through.
"Sleep if you can, Christian. You'll need your strength. We've got a long couple of months ahead of us..."
Blakesley walked through the door and closed it behind him, leaving Christian in total darkness.
Now that Christian was alone, he groaned to himself and rolled his head. He tried to move his hand, but cried out as the pain hit again.
Now that he was behind sound-proofing, he didn't have to hold back.
Blakesley's father put his hand on his son's shoulder.
"He's a nice one..." was all he said, before making his way to the livingroom.
"Yes, he is rather," Blakesley agreed as he followed his father.
"Do you want me to stay here while Christian is here? Or should I go rent a hotel room?"
"You can stay here if you wish," Blakesley's father offered, "the second bedroom is more often than not, free. And closest to the room itself."
"That sounds fine. Good night, Father."
Blakesley inclined his head gracefully and went to get set up in the spare room.