Blakesley
Blakesley whistled slightly as he headed down into the labratory confinement area. He'd made excellent progress on the analyses of Taylor's DNA and was charting the alien's responses to pain. All in all, a good morning's work. His heels clicked hollowly through the mostly empty halls as he made his way to Taylor's cell. "Good morning, Taylor. How are you this morning?" He said cheerfully as he went to the still open cupboard.
Taylor
"How do you expect?" Taylor's voice croaked slightly, being the first time he'd spoken in hours.
Bruises were beginning to show all over his body, and he was shivering from the cold.
Blaklesley
"Well, I had a nice night's sleep. And then a nice breakfast. I would not be far wrong guessing that your night was uncomfortable and painful." Blakesley bent slightly and then switched on a voice recorder. "Testing, testing." He rewound it, then listened to it. His voice came through clearly, and he nodded in satisfaction. He rewound it to the start of the tape. "I would like you to say one word in as many different languages that you can. Start now please."
Taylor
Taylor squinted at him curiously.
"You wouldn't be able to hear most of my languages, and if I had to use every one I'd be here for days on end. That's without taking a breath."
He shifted his right wrist slightly.
Blakesley
"Well, shall we start with the ones that are audible?" Blakesley suggested pleasantly.
Taylor
Taylor groaned, closing his eyes as he wished for sleep.
"Like Spanish? Muérdame. Greek? με δαγκώ= στε. Russian? сдержиm= 0;е меня."
He muttered a few more.
"I could go on forever at this rate. You're not going to learn much about my race by focusing on this power. It's too rare."
Blakesley
"So, why don't you tell me about your race?" Blakesley suggested as he switched the machine off. "We are severely lacking in sociological data."
Taylor
"Then maybe you haven't been doing the right tests," Taylor held back a yawn as best he could.
"There's not that much difference between us and humans now. We've moulded too much to the environment since the elders first came here. We only... apart from the powers and obviously the blood there's no real physical difference."
Blakesley
"See, isn't this much more pleasent? If you'd been like this in the beginning, poor Natalia might never have been whipped nor Jane have had her nose broken. Actually, I think I broke her cheekbone as well. Or at least bruised it." Blakesley flicked a speck of dust from the corner of his sleeve.
Taylor
"I've always seen things logically," Taylor looked to the side, not able to turn his head.
"If you had known my power and that it was rare when I'd first come there'd have been every chance that you'd beef up security around me, and then I'd have had a hard time getting them out."
He blinked slowly.
"But now there's no reason to hold back. I only hope the rescuers who come for me aren't too squeamish to kisk your sorry ass."
Blakesley
"What rescuers? I am anticipating shortly news that the two of them have been recaptured. Now, you said that you could speak in many different languages at a time. Could you give me a sample, clearly stating at the end what languages you used?" Blakesley leant over and pressed record on the voice recorder.
Taylor
Taylor eyed the tape recorder.
"Well at the moment I'm talking in English, Dutch, Greek, cat, spider, Japanese, Chinese, Korean, wolf, whale and cow. How's that for a mix? You only hear me talk in your natural tongue, so let a whale listen to that and they'll understand it."
Blakesley
"I believe we actually have some Asian scientists on staff. I can check those three languages at least." Blakesley stood and ejected the tape into his hand. "If you can sleep between now and when I come back, you're welcome to." He left the room to go and find the scientists.
Taylor
Taylor groaned, wishing he could move his head as he closed his eyes.
Willing himself to sleep, he was annoyed to find that he was too tired to simply drop off.
His eyes darted to the nearby guard, who was simply picking the dirt out from underneath his nails.
With a yawn, Taylor closed his eyes again, and finally dropped off without even knowing it.
Blakesley
Blakesley got three of the languages confirmed and then dropped the tape off where it would be copied, then sent out for testing. He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. How interesting. He wondered how it worked. One would suppose that the layering of soundwaves onto the tape would mean one would hear all of the languages at once, but it didn't seem to work that way. He stepped back into the cell, having had about three quarters of an hour pass. He debated on how to wake Taylor up, then decided to shake his shoulder. "I'm back, so you can wake up now." Blakesley deliberately chose the shoulder the sample had been taken from. "Where were we?"
Taylor
"AH!"
Taylor jolted awake, feeling the sharp pain bolt through him.
He frowned, remembering where he was.
"Oh man..." he moaned, closing his eyes again, "I don't know."
Blakesley
"Why is it that the listener hears only one language at a time? I would have thought what would have happened is that all of the languages would have been recorded at once, and would be heard simulataneously." Blakesley tilted his head and pursed his lips slightly. "The phenomena does not make sense, logically."
Taylor
Taylor looked up at him tiredly, one eye half closed.
"Isn't that the point?" he pointed out softly, "nothing about the powers we have is logical. We're not human. There's no physical way to explore the way our powers work."
He stretched his fingers, then tried to relax them, hoping that the small sleep he'd just had would be enough for him to use his power again.
Blakesley
"You are becoming insolent again. Perhaps letting you sleep was a bad idea." Blakesley shook his head slightly. "Try to be kinda and see where it gets you. Absolutely nowhere."
Taylor
"I was not being insolent... Simply stating a fact that by now you should have come to realize," Taylor's voice croaked on the last word.
"And kind? Please. I'll give you enough credit to say you were partly kind when I first arrived. But I assure you that yesterday's actions completely cancel out that thought."
Blakesley
"You did try to escape, and you cost me two of my most important subjects." Blakesley leaned on the arms of Taylor's chair and stared into his eyes. "I have become most vexed of late because of you. I would suggest not trying my patience further."
Taylor
"Think of the reasons," Taylor squinted slightly, his voice quiet.
"I love Jane, and I'd do anything for her. The way you treated Natalia was completely disgraceful, she could have had such a future by now. And think of why I want out."
His fingers clutched the arms of the chair, then let go again.
"I'm not just some child you can simply boss around, and I'll never believe otherwise."
Blakesley
Blakesley grin was cold and somewhat reminiscent of a shark. "No. You're not a child. You're a scientific subject, I believe the common term is lab rat?"
Taylor
"I'm not that either," Taylor glared, his voice deepening.
"I am no one's lab rat. And I will never be anyone's lab rat."
His eyes fell slightly, before he closed them and his mouth. As he opened his eyes again, the collar around his neck faded into dust.
Blakesley
Blakesley blinked. "I knew letting you sleep was a bad idea." He turned and got a blindfold from the cupboard, tying it swiftly around Taylor's eyes.
Taylor
"NO!" Taylor cried, trying to duck unsuccessfully.
The pain in his side where the needles still were stopped him from moving very far. As the blindfold was tightened, he gulped and drew in a shaky breath.
"You can't keep this on me forever," he insisted, his voice losing it's usual bite for a moment.
Blakesley
Blakesley snorted. "Do you really think that? If I keep you awake and unable to replenish your power to manipulate atoms, I should be fine." He went to the cupboard and retrieved another collar, this one an about five cms wide strip of black leather with four hoops set into it. Blakesley buckled it closed.
Taylor
Taylor gulped feeling the second collar going on, but felt glad that it wasn't another posture collar.
Perhaps they only had the one.
"So... what happened with the tape?" he asked nervously.
He didn't realize his voice was shaking.
Blakesley
"It's been sent to be analysed. You know, it even held true to copies. Quite fascinating." Blakesley was pleased to note the signs of impending mental breakdown in Taylor. It was amazing what depriving someone of sight could do. He went to the cupboard and pulled out a knife. He started to sharpen it, the steel rasping unpleasantly. He watched taylor shake with cold and fear...and smiled. "Now. There still remains to be addressed the question of whether you have paid adequately for helping two of my most vaulable specimens to escape." The knife dragged along the whetting stone.
Taylor
Taylor shivered violently for a split second, before his body calmed somewhat.
He gulped again. Threats, accompanied by the sound of metal.
"What... what are you gonna do?" he stammered.
Blakesley
"I haven't quite decided yet," Blakesley said thoughtfully as he continued to hone the knife to a glimmering razor's edge. "I'm quite sure knives well be involved in it though. So, I'm juts making sure this one is sharp. Preperation is an important component to any successful operation." Rasp, rasp, raaaaassssppp.
Taylor
Taylor gasped, then took a deep breath.
'If you survived yesterday, you can survive today,' he thought to himself, but cringing at the thought of how he'd almost lost it the day before.
"How, how long is this... this gonna go on for?"
Blakesley
"As long as I wish," Blakesley said cryptically. Rasp, rasp, rasp. "As long as I think your behaviour merits. As long as *I* think you can stand it without passing out." Blakesley stood silently and went to the cupboard. He got out a flicker whip and sent the metaltipped end flashing noiselessly to Taylor's shoulder.
Taylor
"AH!" Taylor cried out, more from shock than anything else.
Then he cringed again, as the neddles stung again from the movement.
"What the heck was that?!" he breathed, his shoulders bent in a I'veo Ewan rummaged in his jacket p little afraid of being hit again.
Blakesley
"It's called a flicker whip. It's marvelously precise as compared to the flogger whip," Blakesley told him. And then sent the tail of the ship cracking at a bloody wound on Taylor's back.
Taylor
Taylor cried out again as he leant forward, his head hung.
The needles stung again, but he it'd soon return to numb. Then he felt the warm blood running down his back, and held his breath.
Blakesley
"How untidy." Blakesley went to the cuboard and got out a flat piece of metal on a hard rubber handle. He started to heat it. "You know, Natalia would lick her own blood off the floor if you told her to, and apologise for bleeding." He took the metal rectangle and laid it directly over one of the large wounds to cauterise it. HISSSSSSS!
Taylor
Taylor yelled from the pain, arching his back a little, ignoring the other pain he felt. His side, his feet, his chest... hell, everywhere.
"Oh my God," he managed to gasp out.
"And, and I'll never do that," he stated defiantly, though his voice was soft, "no way in hell."
Blakesley
Blakesley arched an eyebrow in amusement. "I believe Natalia would have said much the same. But you've seen her. Talked with her. She would do anything for her Masters. She'll probably give Mouse the slip and wind up back here, shivering and pleading to be let back in." He looked over at the guard. "Help him stand." Blakesley moved back so the guard could make Taylor stand on his skinned feet.
Taylor
Taylor's eyebrows rose in worry as he heard the guard's footsteps come toward him.
"You'll never be my Master," he hissed slightly, feeling his right cuff being undone.
The guard took hold of his wrist so he couldn't struggle, before retrieving his left wrist as well. Pulling them behind him, he locked hand cuffs onto his wrists, before grabbing his shoulder to pull him up.
"No! AH!" Taylor cried out, falling forward onto his knees.
He cried out again at the pain in his leg from the maced dots of the day before.
Blakesley
"I said make him stand," Blakesley reprimanded softly. The guard hauled Taylor to his feet. Blakesley turned his head sharply as the door opened.
"Dr. Blakesley, I ran the tests..." Allan came in and stopped short at the sight of Taylor. His eyes narrowed. "Ah. I see now why you didn't want me to come down."
"Please leave, Dr." Blakesley's eye twitched.
"I can not condone this."
"You don't have to."
"You can't do this to someone!"
Blakesley lifted an eyebrow. "You can stay and observe if you wish..."
"You, sir, are not worthy of the title you call yourself by."
"That's amusing coming from you. Now, leave." Allan's nostrils pinched together in anger.
"I'll see the director about this."
"My dear boy, the director already knows. Indeed, he gave me permission to go ahead."
Allan turned on his heel and stormed out. Blakesley turned back to Taylor.
"Now, where were we? Oh yes." He retrieved a coiled whip and unrolled it, the lash pooling on the ground in a gleam of black leather. He cracked it once to get the feel of it, the sound echoing sharply.
Taylor
a I'veo Ewan rummaged in his jacket p Taylor almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of the crack. His eyes welled with tears of pain from his feet as he shifted from the balls to his heels, trying to find somewhere it didn't hurt so much.
He stood with his shoulders hunched, his body shaking from the pain alone, and his legs threatening to collapse at any second.
"I can't hold this..." his voice shook.
Blakesley
"I suggest that you do." Blakesley looked at the guard. "Hold him up. If he falls, chain him to the wall." He raised the whip and sent it cracking at Taylor's stomach. A slash of red appeared, and Blakesley neatly crossed it with a flick of his hand. A blood oozing cross covered Taylor's stomach and chest, running from about the middle of his ribcage to the line of his pants, and about two thirds of the way up, a shorter perpendicular line had been cut.
Taylor
Taylor choked for a moment, the whip having knocked the breath out of him.
Coughing, the guard caught him by the arm before he could fall forward.
"The wall, come on."
"N-no," Taylor shook his head desperately, as the guard half led/half dragged him to the wall.
He unlocked the hand cuffs and replaced them with the same cuffs as before, before locking them to the bolts in the wall.
The guard turned to Blakesley as Taylor slid down the wall and hung from his wrists - anything to get his feet from the ground.
Blakesley
"Well, we really can't have that," Blakesley said reprovingly. He went to the cupboard and retrieved two daggers that were appoximately ten cms long. "Hold him up." The guard lifted Taylor up again. Carefully, Blakesley tapped the daggers into the wall under Taylor's armpits, blade edge up. "If you fall you'll cut yoursef quite severely. I'd suggest you don't fall." He went back to rummage in the torture instrument recess.
Taylor
Taylor cried out again when his feet came into contact with the ground, and quickly resumed what he'd been doing before.
"Oh, oh..." he gasped, his mouth opening and closing, "I can't, I can't..."
He shook his head, glad that Blakesley couldn't see the pain in his eyes.
Blakesley
"Hmm." Blakesley spared him a glance. "Hold him up off the blades if you can," he told the gaurd. "Actually, shift them down a little, and angle them inwards." The guard started to do as Blakesley told him. "I would suggest you start to learn how, Taylor." He looked inside the cupboard thoughtfully, then went back over to Taylor. He put his fingers on one of the needles stuck in Taylor's side and slowly started to pull it out.
Taylor
"Oh man, oh man," he almost whimpered, before Blakesley touched the needle.
"OH my God... No, no..." he shook his head, "that, that was fine in there, I swear."
Blakesley
Blakesley chuckled dryly, then took hold of the next needle and drew it out. It clinked into the small pan he was holding next to the first one. They were streaked with almost black blood...He started to take them all out, drawing out the sensation as long as he could. He had been right...some of them had shattered. He probed for the fragments of stainless steel with a small scalpel and a pair of tweezers.
Taylor
"You, you don't..."
Taylor stopped and gulped, still swayino Ewan rummaged in his jacket pg his body backwards and forwards on his feet.
"We can always, always do that part tomorrow. I... AH! I swear, I mean, we can stop for today."
The blindfold was drying most of his tears up.
Blakesley
"I don't think you're quite sure about what is happening here. I don't particularily want you to die, especially not from septic blood poisoning. Therefore, I am removing the fragments of steel." The fact that it must feel extremely painful is just an added extra, Blakesley thought to himself. "And I decide when we stop. This needs to be done, however." He retrieved what he thought was the last piece, then sprayed the area liberally with antibacterial liquid.
Taylor
Taylor cringed, pulling down on his wrists, but jolting up again when he felt the blades cut into him slightly.
Cussing silently to himself, his knees buckled but he quickly stood again.
"Dammit," he hissed, feeling the sharp blades again.
Blakesley
Blakesley smiled slightly at Taylor's obvious discomfort. He went to get something from the cupboard, and then paused as the intercom unit in the room buzzed. He went over to it and lifted the handset. While he was listening to a totally normal conversation, Blakesley decided to start acting. "What the hell do you mean you killed her, you idiotd?! I told you both of the girls were to be brought back here unharmed! She was carrying three embyros! Do you know how much work went into designing them?!"
Taylor
Taylor froze, hearing this side of the conversation.
His eyes darted from side to side, searching the darkness. What was he talking about? It couldn't be Mouse. It was yesterday that she'd escaped, she'd probably be back in Tulsa by now - or at least well on her. There was no way they could...
Blakesley
"You imbecilic idiots. You have lost me *years* of work. She was perfect. Her DNA...perfect. You have no idea of what you have killed. Jane was more or less irreplaceable. The children more so. Is it the least to hope for that you caught Natalia?" Blakesley hissed down the mouthpiece.
Taylor
Taylor's mouth began to open and close in shock as his eyes searched the inside of the blindfold.
"Oh..." he almost coughed, a heavy feeling in his chest.
He tried to slide down again, but jumped when he felt the blades again.
"Oh, oh... no," he shook his head, "no."
Blakesley
"I'm surrounded by fools. Did you get a picture of the woman with them? Truly, you are pathetic. Is it too much to ask that you bring them back, alive, with their live cargo? I wouldn't have thought so, but you've proved me wrong." Blakesley glanced over at Taylor and smiled slightly. "Expect to be reprimanded severely. I will not tolerate this type of incompetence. You shot her. And you managed to lose her, *again*, and she bled to death. Did you at least retrieve the body? No? Idiots." He hung up the phone and turned to Taylor. "She would still be alive if you hadn't of helped her escape."
Taylor
"Oh, oh man..." Taylor's hands opened as he tried to grasp anything he could.
Tears began to fall from behind the blindfold.
"No, she can't, can't be," he gulped, "I would have felt something. You LIE!"
Blakesley
"Foolish child. She's dead. And that makes me monumentally angry." Blakesley stalked over to the cupboard and got a whip out. He cracked it once. "Quite, quite upset." Really, he recieve an award for this command performance.
Taylor
"NO! No," Taylor shook his head, not able to reach it with his hand, the daggers stopping him.
His cheeks were going red again, even though the rest of his face had lost colour. The tears began to soak the blindfold, and run down his face with ease.
"No, she can't... she can't."
Blakesley
"Trust me, she is. She died a lonely painful death, all alone. Bleeding to death in a sewer. She led the men away from Natalia, and she died for it." Blakesley leant forward and removed the blindfold from Taylor's eyes. "Tears. How sweet. At least somebody cried for her."
Taylor
"You bastard," Taylor shook his head, looking away.
He licked his lips, the salty tears welcome after a day or so without water.
"She, she..."
Then the tears started coming harder.
Blakesley
"Let him down," Blakesley ordered the guard silkily. The man stepped forward and removed the daggers, before unclipping Taylor's shackles. He slumped to the floor. "I told you you would be at my feet one day. I didn't think it would be this soon though."
Taylor
Taylor ignored what Blakesley said, suddenly going quiet.
He put his hands to the ground, slowly shifting himself along the wall until the chains on his ankles wouldn't let him go any further. Then he moved back to the wall so he was sideways against it, leant his head against it, closed his eyes, then started to actually cry.
Blakesley
Blakesley smiled in pleasure at the sight of Taylor's tears. "Love. It weakens you. Brings you down. There is nothing you can do. Nothing left to live for, to keep yourself strong for. Is there, really?"
Taylor
"She's not the only one that I love," Taylor kept his eyes to the ground, not willing to aggrivate him at the moment.
"I still... I still have my family to live for."
He rubbed his face, then drew his right hand back to look at it. The palm was covered in scabs from where his nails had made it bleed. He cringed and closed his eyes again, not willing to look at anything else they'd done.
Blakesley
"I am supremely frustrated. Do you know how much work went into those embryos? Jane's ova were the only ones I've found so far that were capable of holding the strands true, without lethal abnormalities." Blakesley walked over to where Taylor was lying and lifted his chin with the toe of his shoe. "Years of work. Gone in a tme it takes a bullet to leave a gun. And why? Because of you. Well, you;re not the only cause but you're one I'm able to address now."
Taylor
"Why couldn't you just leave us the hell ALONE?!" Taylor's voice quickly changed from soft to a yell.
His eyes shot to where Blakesley was using his hand to lean against the wall, and made the wall practically swallow it. Then he glared at the chains on his ankles and dusted them, before scrambling backwards into a corner and glaring at the guard should he approach him.
Blakesley
Tap. Tap. Tap. Blakesley tapped his foot slowly, eyes suddenly gleaming with rage. The corner of his eye twitched and the guards cringed. They knew that look. That look meant that Blakesley was about to let go of his control. The results were never pretty. "Kindly find something to extricate my hand from the wall," he told them in a deceptively mild tone. They rushed to do his bidding. One of the guards started chipping away the concrete around Blakesley's hand. "That was...unwise."
Taylor
"Don't you tell me what's wise and what's unwise," Taylor looked up at him.
It wasn't a glare, but you could tell he was seething inside.
"If it were up to you this collar would be permanent," he dusted it, "and I'd become a complete mental freak... like some kind of dog that would come at your beck and call. Something like Natalia, though not female."
He left the cuffs on his wrists, afraid of seeing underneath them, keeping an eye on the guards.
Blakesley
"Believe me, your being male is not a problem to you being put to the same use Natalia was," Blakesley said coldly. He swung his snakelike glare on the guard carefully chipping away. "Hurry it up." He slowly turned his head back to Taylor. "You're going to be screaming again before the end of the day," he informed Taylor. "There are still other instruments I haven't used."
Taylor
Taylor's facial expression didn't change, as he looked to the torture instruments. Spotting the small generator, he was glad to dust it.
"And if you don't figure out a way to stop me, you're not going to have them to use."
Frowning a little, he dusted the line of chemicals, followed by the liquid nitrogen.
Still, he kept his eye on the guards.
Blakesley
Blakesley laughed chillingly. The guard shivered and stepped up the pace of his chipping slightly. "Little fool. Do you think this is the only collection here? I have whole cupbaords dedicated to different species. Alien. Human. Demon. Mutant. Crosses and holy water for the vampires, blessed blades and diffrent amulets for different demons. This is only *one* room." He grinned slightly. "In my Father's house, there are many rooms...each one prepared for you."
Taylor
Taylor frowned slightly and dusted all the knives within sight, as well as anything else on the shelves. Then he looked to the roof and dusted the bolt that had held him up, then dusted the bolts that once held both Natalia and he spread-eagled against the wall.
He stopped for a moment and closed his eyes, the second use of his power wearing him out already.
Opening his eyes, he looked up at Blakesley again.
"Just how long do you think this can go on?" he squinted a little.
The floor beneath Blakesley's feet sank a little.
Blakelsey
"As long as I wish." Blakesley carefully removed his hand from the wall and flexed it, scrapes showing all over the pale skin. "I have time. You do not. I also am not alone here. You are. You have only your own resources to depend on and when they fail..." He shrugged eloqoently. "Release gas mix 23," he spoke into the air clearly. "Now, this is gonna give me a hell of a headache," Blakesley said as the airjets hissed, "but you're going to star becoming dizzy, weak and naeseus. It was designed for Dathrian Human hybrids, but I'm willing to bet it will have at least some effect on you."
Taylor
Taylor's left hand shakily felt for the wall behind him as he pushed himself up onto his knees.
"If you don't call this off, I can bury you alive right now," he frowned determindly, "and don't think I wouldn't."
He saw a faint mist shooting into the room the vents.
Blakesley
"Up to 28." Blakesley put a hand against a wall as the stronger gas mix rushed into the room. The guards moved restlessly. "Do you wish to die also? I thought you said you didn't have a deathwish." One of the guards reached surreptiously into his holster for his trank gun. "Perhaps we should end this. Now." All of the guards pulled their guns out and shot the trank darts at Taylor, aiming for his body.
Taylor
Because he'd been watching, Taylor managed to duck the majority of darts, and dust others. But it would have been easier to miss the last one if he'd been standing.
He coughed, his eyes wide as the dart hit his hip, and quickly pulled it out before all the tranquilizer could work. But still, it was too late.
He cringed, before he turned away from Blakesley, and fainted.
Blakesley
Blakesley shook his head slightly, then looked at the guards. "Get him up and take him next door. And get someone in here to clean up this mess." He followed the guard who had Taylor hanging limply over his shoulder into the next cell. This time, Blakesley was in no mood for games. Heavy iron manacles and shackles. A thick steel collar which padlocked. He debated whether or not to gag him, but decided he wanted to hear Taylor scream. Taylor dangled in the middle of the room, arms strung up above his head and feet trailing the floor. His head hung down against his chest and Blakesley nodded in satisfaction. Show time. He went to the wall and dialled a number into a small keypad. The back of the cell swung open and Blakesley looked in approvingly. He selected a rattan cane and flexed it between his hands, before sending it cracking down on Taylor's ass.
Taylor
Taylor awoke with a start, his vision still blurry. Then he felt something pulling on the raw of his wrists, and looked up.
"NO!" he cried, hating the fact he was at their mercy again.
He couldn't see the restraints above his head to dust them. He twisted his body, trying to find something his feet could touch, but he simply couldn't reach the ground.
Then he heard Blakesley shift behind him.
Blakesley
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Mr. Hanson." Blakesley moved around Taylor slowly, admiring the way his feet dangled above the the ground. He flexed the cane between his hands before bringing it back down right on the first stripe. "Perhaps this time I will advance onto your hands. I am very, very annoyed with your behaviour. How do you feel about having each joint of your fingers crushed?"
Taylor
Taylor cringed, feeling a lump in throat as he took in the blow.
He lifted his feet a little, but had to let them hang again.
"You touch my hands and I'll make sure you never walk again," he fumed, trying to look over his shoulder unsuccessfully.
Blakesley
Blakesley laughed. "Perhaps later. Now then..." He went over to the cupboard and removed a heavier whip. He cracked it to get the feel of the leather moving through the air, then sent it slashing at the calves of Taylor's legs.
Taylor
Taylor flinched as he cracked the whip, then yelled out when it struck.
"DAMMIT!" he cursed, throwing his head back, then forward again.
"You're gonna... Wait, no," he stopped himself.
He was going to say he'd break his legs, but Blakesley probably would have liked that idea.
Blakelsey
Perhaps...Blakesley swung the whip at Taylor's legs again, layering onto the previous strike while he thought. Yes. He went over to the cuboard and removed a small knife. Reaching up, he could just touch Taylor's hands. With a quick efficent flick of his wrist, he cut through the webbing between one thumb and the rest of the hand.
Taylor
"Yah! Dammit," Taylor hissed, trying to look up.
Then he glared at Blakesley.
"I said not the hands."
His eyes falling to the floor, he concentrated, and the floor began to sink beneath his feet like quicksand.
"Back off or I'll keep it going."
Blakesley
Blakesley retreated hastily, cursing. "That...was rude." He flicked out the whip, aiming for Taylor's hands. He missed and laid a bloody welt across Taylor's cheek and ear. "Damn. I was aiming for your hands...Different weight to the one I'm used to."
Taylor
Taylor cried out, feeling the blood running down his neck, and tasting it in the corner of his mouth already.
He spat it out, gulped, and excersized his jaw before glaring at Blakesley again.
"I can do it faster if you want. I'll have you down so far your lungs will be full of the $#!+."
Blakesley
"Temper, temper," Blakesley tutted. "Didn't your mother ever teach you it was not polite to swear? Terrible language in a boy your age." He sent the whip towards Taylor's legs again. The black leather curled around them, making Taylor sway from the force of the blow.
Taylor
Taylor cursed as he grit his teeth.
"I'm twenty years old, I'm not a child. She doesn't exactly have a say in my split-second reactions anymore," he glared.
He twisted his legs until the whip moved a little.
"If you don't get rid of that you're gonna lose it soon."
Blakesley
Blakesley jerked the whip back and coiled it up in his hand. "One can still strive for refinement. Now..." He walked over to the recess and put the whip back, before removing a thin scalpel. He stalked over to behind Taylor and studied his back for a clear space. He started to carve his initials into Taylor's flesh, cutting deep.
Taylor
Taylor held his breath for a moment, but cried out.
"Dammit! What the hell are you...?! God, man..."
He grit his teeth, to stop himself going any further. That was when he realized he was wearing another collar.
He groaned to himself, flinching every now and then from the cutting.
Blakesley
"An artist always signs his work," Blakesley said reflectively. "My art is one...underappreciated by the world at large, but it is an art nonetheless." He stepped back and looked at his work and found it good. He went to get an ink to rub into the wound and make it permanant.
Taylor
Taylor fell a few drops of blood tickle his back as they ran down, his eyes following the doctor as he looked over some smal dark bottles.
He flinched a little as he lifted his body again, the weight pulling on his raw wrists once more.
"What is that?" he asked nervously, eyeing off the bottles.
If it was poison, he was dusting it. No matter what.
Blakesley
"Tattoo ink. If you look at Natalia's feet, they have my initials on them," Blakesley said absently as he picked out one of the bottles. "Black, I think." He walked back over to Taylor.
Taylor
Taylor's eyes widened, accompanied by another gulp.
He squinted, trying to focus on the bottle, but Blakesley covered it with his hand before he was behind him and out of sight.
"Don't you put that $#!+ on me, I swear..." he shook his head, looking to the side, "I swear you'll get yours. I am NOT yours Blakesley, dammit!"
Blakesley
"Your body is my canvas. Your blood my paint. Your pain is my creative muse." Blakesley spilled the ink down Taylor's back. "It is only fitting that you carry my signature. Like any work of art carries the signature of the artist that created it."
Taylor
Taylor's eyebrows rose in worry, as he felt the ink run down his back.
"You're a freaking psycho," he breathed, "I'm not art. I'm not just a piece of artwork. I am NOT just to look at, taunt, torture, whatever the hell your demented mind thinks of me as. Let me the hell go!"
Blakesley
"This may sting...a lot." Blakesley leant forward and rubbed the ink into the symbols of his signature with his fingers. He was ready for the jerk away and followed Taylor, pressing the ink into the wound, black ink and blood flowing over his slender digits.
Taylor
Taylor cussed to himself, then shook the hair out of his eyes.
"Not as bad as... Ah! Some other... $#!+ you've done," he cringed, feeling his fingers press against the wound.
"I'm not sticking around Blakesley! I'll never be yours. You'll never be my freaking Master. There's no way I'm gonna end up like Natalia. Now way," he shook his head, more to himself than Blakesley.
Blakesley
"If that comforts you, keep telling yourself that. But everyone has their breaking point. Natalia's was when her boyfriend died in her arms, coughing and hacking the lining of his lungs up." Blakesley stepped back and then went and washed his hands throughly. The ink still stained his fingers a light grey. He threw water over Taylor's back, cleaning off the worst of the blood.
Taylor
"Maybe he was all she had to cling onto," Taylor tried to breathe evenly, relaxing a little as the water splashed his back.
His body was still shaking, but he couldn't control it. He tried to look up again to see he wrists restraints, but he still couldn't.
He grit his teeth again, looking around for anything that could help him as he spat out some more blood.
Blakesley
"But you're all alone now. Jane is dead. Natalia...well, she's more then slightly insane so her story won't be believed." Blakesley picked up a needle and the bottle of ink before bending down and startng to delineate his intitials more clearly. They were a little blurred.
Taylor
Taylor cringed and arched his back as the needle played, but didn't yell out. Rather hissed through his teeth.
"I'm not alone," he said quietly, more to himself.
He closed his eyes, thinking of his family. How much he wanted to see them again. They were probably worried as hell... The tour.
His eyes shot open again, and he looked up again.
"A few million people are waiting for me."
Blakesley
"Oh yes, I forgot. You're a celebrity," Blakesley said in a tone of voice that made it clear how much he didn't care. "You might as well forget about it because you won't be leaving this place except as ashes on the wind. Not much use to anyone, except to the plants." He got up and got a slim scalpel before starting to carve designs into Taylor's back. Curving, swooping red lines that almost resembled henna. Except for the blood slowly trickling down his back. Blakesley got a pair of tweezers and ripped off a small flap of skin.
Taylor
Taylor cussed to himself as he felt the skin peel away, before realizing that was his first audible death threat.
"Bastard," he cursed, pulling on his wrists again, lifting himself slightly.
"I'd walk out of here right now if I thought I could get far enough. There's no use in constantly freeing myself and being caught again, bit I will not be staying here."
Blakesley
"Ah, a sign of intelligence at last. I was beginning to despair. What do they teach children these days? No manners, no refinement, no...style. A deplorable lack of style, and an even more deplorab;e apprciation of subtlety." Blakesley inserted the knife between two verterbrae. "I would really suggest that you don't move, or I may cut your spinal cord...accidentally of course." He let go of the handle and the knife quivered, trapped between the ridges of bone.
Taylor
Taylor froze, his eyes wide.
"I, I was homeschooled with my brothers and sisters. Two different parts of schooling too - human and alien."
He took a shaky breath, trying not to move his back.
"We had to learn our history and stuff some way."
Blakesley
"Very good point. Is that normal for your kind?" Blakesley asked pleasantly, his furious rage tamped down for the moment. He looked through the instruments that were laid out for his inspection, fingers hovering over a series of knives, then moved on. Candles. Black through to the core candles. He picked one of the long jet couloured tapers up and flicked the flywheel of a lighter.
Taylor
Taylor's eye twitched as he watched what he was doing. He could feel the knife still in his back, and gulped again.
"As far as I know. It was normal for us anyway," he replied, his voice cracking a little.
Blakesley
Blakesley lit the candle. The wick spluttered for a moment, then took on a steady glow. "The darker the wax, the hotter it is when it melts. This is a beeswax candle, which makes it hotter still." He stepped up to Taylor and carefully tipped the candle which was already starting to produce gleaming black globules of boiling hot black wax. With a quick flick of his wrist, he sent a great clump of liquid wax onto the nipple which he had pierced with needles.
Taylor
Taylor flinched as the wax stung, quickly changing the wax into plastic, then cotton. He wasn't a temperature manipulator, however.
Managing to focus on the candle, he quickly dusted it, leaving the flame to burn out. Then he tilted his head back, and forward again.
"You want me to cut my freaking spinal cord? Somehow I don't think it would be as much fun for you if I was paralyzed," he squinted.
Blakesley
"It would make it harder for you to run though," Blakesley said. He strode around the back and yanked the knife out none too carefully. Blakesley went and got another candle, humming the melody of the Moonlight Sonata to himself as he lit it. He let it burn a bit longer before dripping a line of thick black wax down Taylor's back.
Taylor
"AH! OH my GOD!" Taylor yelled, arching his back and trying to bring his knees in to his chest.
"$#!+ that burns! Oh man, oh man..."
He tried to slow his breathing down, taking deep breaths and letting them go slowly. There was another lump in his throat, but he refused to cry this time.
Blakesley had already had the satisfaction once.
Blakesley
Blakesley arched a delicate eyebrow. "That, my dear boy, is kind of the point." He put the candle and lighter down, then took hold of the wax and ripped it off Taylor's back in one long strip.
Taylor
Taylor hissed between his teeth again, before once again feeling blood run down his back.
"At this rate I'm gonna bleed to death," he muttered with another cringe.
He shifted from wrist to wrist, the area of the scabs having gone numb a long time ago.
Blakesley
"Yes, there is that." Blakesley thought for a moment, picking up the lighter and flicking the flame on and off idly. "Tell me about something you mentioned once, and I might become interested enough that I let you down and stop for today. You said your father was fifth in the council? What council? Tell me about this, and I might stop. Find a way to divert me."
Taylor
Taylor hesitated, his body swaying slightly.
"You'll never find them," he insisted, "they... they organize alien society in general. Organize stuff like tournaments and keep criminals under wraps."
He shifted his wrists again uneasily.
"The Elder is the leader. We call him the Elder because he's immortal... about 350 years old and counting. I don't think he even remembers his own name. He was on the ship that crashed in Roswell itself."
His eyes darted from side to side, hoping that gave some leverage.
Blakesley
Blakesley decided he was definetly interested. They hadn't enough infomation on this sort of thing. He settled into a chair, still playing with the lighter, watching the flame appear and vanish. "Tell me more. This sounds...interesting."
Taylor
"Like what? What do you wanna know?" Taylor frowned slightly, hoping for some direction.
"There's twelve council members. Under them are the agents, sort of like, special operatives. Like the people who'll come for me."
He closed his eyes.
"And there are telepath Masters. Two of them. And you'd better hope you'd never come in contact with either."
Blakesley
"Ah, telepaths. We've managed to restrain telepathic demons, but on the whole they seem to be weaker then the alien or mutant varities. Tell me the names and powers of the Council members. Oh, and about the elder." Blakesley got up and prowled restlessly to the cabinet.
Taylor
"You're not going to find them," Taylor insisted, "and I refuse to help you find them. Powers are another thing."
He shivered. Then hesitated thoughtfully.
"No, there's more than twelve. I won't remember them all."
He felt his stomach begin to itch, and tried to ignore it.
"There's... um... Advanced stuff, like sight and hearing. X-ray vision again, telekinesis, one of them has tongue like me. Technokinetic, hydrokinetic, pyrokinetic, empath, telepath, something else..."
He frowned, trying to remember.
Blakesley
"Tell me your version of events that led to the Roswell crash. Why Earth? Why there? Why did you come here at all?" Blakesley decided he could come back to a discussion of the powers at another time.
Taylor
Taylor pursed his lips, trying to think.
"As far as I know they weren't even supposed to land here. It was something like an emergency stop and they crashed."
He looked up.
"You think I ever paid much attention in school? Music was the only thing that meant something to me. And art."
Blakesley
Blakesley's head went up as the intercom by the door buzzed. He went over to it and picked up the handle. "Yes? Hmm. Varian must have sensed something. What? Feed it, you idiot. What form is it in? Human female? A bottle then, imbecile. Clearly stated on the task sheets. You shouldn't be calling me with this. What? Varian is an exacting and unpredictable subject. I would of course suggest you wear gloves. Its teeth are...sharp." He grimaced. "If it goes into T'ien Lung form, I would suggest you wear rubber soled shoes. Of course, it still manages to summon lightning on occasion when it isn't in dragon form. Yes, that increasing sense of terror is normal. It's the dragon fear. Honest to God, I would think you'd have looked up the DNA sheets on it before trying to...idiot. Naga, western dragon, T'ien Lung and mutant. Who? Natalia. Yes, of course I am well aware...I'm not the one shaking in fear because of an infant. Yes. No. Goodbye." Blakesley hung up the phone with a growl of frustration. "I'm surrounded by fools. Why is it so hard for them to..." He shook his head in disgust. "One would think that in an institution like this they would at least be able to *read*! Well." He shook out his lab coat and ran a hand through his hair, visibly calming himself down. "Who is the elder?"
Taylor
"He's the oldest immortal alien I've ever met. I don't know what else to tell you," Taylor shook his head slightly, "his fair leadership skills made the council elect him. I only see him at the tournaments and other main events, and I only get to talk to him sometimes because I'm normally working there."
Blakesley
"As a translater, of course. That must come in handy for them." The intercom buzzed again, and Blakesley stromed over to. "Hello? Blakesley here." He listened for a few moments. "What the hell do you mean? I'll be right down. You complete incompetent. I'll see you demoted for this. What? Don't even try to threaten me. I have a lot of work invested in Varian." He slammed the mouthpiece back down onto its holder and started towards the door. "Let him down and wash him. Water him and a little bit of food. I don't want him dying on me just yet. Make sure he stays awake." Muttering under his breath, Blakesley hurried out the door.
Taylor
Taylor hissed as his cuffs were unlocked from the bolt, and his arms were forced behind him as he fell to his knees.
Allan was contacted to come and feed him, before he was quickly washed over and put into another chair to be ready for him.