Ewan
Later that day, Blakesley stepped back inside the cell where he had left his three newest acquisations. "Get Taylor," he told the guards with him, and they moved forward. Ewan snarled at them, and moved in front of Natalia slightly. They wouldn't take her without a fight from him, but Taylor was on his own.
Taylor
Taylor looked up, startled, having not moved since they'd left.
"What? What?" he babbled, as they pulled him up by the shoulders.
Natalia and Ewan
"Cell 12," Blakesley said as he moved back outside. "And ah, remember to have one of the manuel staff feed these two and open the bathroom facilities for this cell." He walked off down the corridor, leaving the guards to drag Taylor after him.
"Bad girl, bad bad girl, I've been so bad, soon the doors will open for me..." Natalia moaned and Ewan shushed her.
"Shh, bonny. Don't talk to them. They ain't worth the breath it takes to curse them. God will see them burn."
"If I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take..."
Taylor
"Where... where..." Taylor stuttered, finding it hard to form the words.
The guards led him out of the cell and down the white halls. He gulped, remembering them from his nightmares... or ones like them. The soldiers had no trouble in leading him into Cell 12 and toward a steel stool.
He gulped as he heard chains rattling, and was made to sit on the stool facing away from the door - towards the security camera above him.
Blakesley
"Welcome back, Taylor," Blakesley said venomously as he stalked into Taylor's range of vision. "How did you enjoy...the floor show earlier?"
The guards stood ready, silent menacing prescences as Blakesley walked over to the wall and looked at it for a moment. Before reaching out to press a code into a numberpad and it slid back to reveal a vast array of torture implements.
"I know you can't quite remember what these are all used for...I'll have to re-educate you."
Taylor
Taylor's eyes widened as they fell on the instruments, before he felt two guards behind him take his wrists and begin to wrap the harsh silver chains around them - binding them to the back legs of the stool he was on.
That done, they wrapped the chains around his ankles, holding them to the front legs, then stepped back leaving him for Blakesley.
He shook some hair out of his eyes and glanced up at the camera, his body shivering.
Blakesley
"I remember...what I did to you." Blakesley stepped up to Taylor. "There was a welt from here to here..." He traced the path it would have taken on Taylor's face with the point of a knife, before dragging it down to Taylor's neck. "Two burns on either side of your neck...from a knife I later lost. Beautiful scarrage, lovelly pattern it brought up..."
Taylor
Taylor heard the chains tinkling slightly as his hands shook.
He gulped and closed his eyes, feeling the knife at his neck, and moving down slightly.
'What...' he managed to mouth, not being able to form the word, or anything else.
Blakesley
Blakesley started to cut away Taylor's shirt. "Of course, I had whipped you. Bullwhip, flogger, and flicker whip...so many types there are that I haven't used yet." Another button hit the floor. "I did use a cane at one point...lovely stripes. Of course, you don't briuse and bleed as prettily as Natalia does. She has such delicate skin...makes any mark into artwork."
Taylor
"Why?" Taylor finally managed to choke out.
He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to see anything that Blakesley was going to do.
"Why? I don't know... If I did anything..."
Blakesley
"Ah, not yet. But before. You assisted two of the more valuable experiment...carriers to escape. That would be Jane and Natalia. But of course, you wouldn't remember what Natalia was carrying..." Blakesley circled the spot on Taylor's back where his initials would have appeared. "You even managed to rid yourself of the tattoo...remarkable."
Taylor
Taylor gulped again, and opened his eyes looking straight ahead.
"Clone?" his voice cracked, so he cleared his throat.
"Natalia was carrying... a clone, right?"
Blakesley
"Ah...Jane must have told you about what I planned. But no. Your child. Blood of your blood and flesh of your flesh...ironic, in its own way." Blakesley ran the knife down the side of Taylor's ribs.
Taylor
Taylor gasped at what he said, then flinched when he felt the knife.
He turned his head away and closed his eyes again. Nat was carrying his child? Now that made things ten times worse...
"Jane... Jane told me some... things. Not many."
Blakesley
"Of course she wouldn't of. She *loves* you, and wants to protect you." Blakesley's sneering tone made clear what he thought of that human foible. "So, what else did she tell you? Horrible things about me, I'm sure."
Taylor
"She told me that..." Taylor stuttered, "and... I don't know. I don't know."
He shook his head, opening his eyes to look at the ground.
Blakesley
"It's true. I am a sadist. A perfectly abnormal human being...but that's why the government pays me so much. It takes so much to train into men what they already have in me." The knife dragged along Taylor's skin, leaving a thin line of red behind. "Imagine what your child could have looked like...blond hair, almost certainly. Probably blue eyes...it was designed to be a son."
Taylor
Taylor flinched at the cut, tears welling in his eyes at Blakesley's last few words.
"He wouldn't have..." he began, but cut himself off.
"It wasn't natural, he wouldn't... wouldn't be truly..."
Blakesley
"Oh no, truly yours. I didn't do *that* much tweaking. Just enough to ensure it was a boy, rather then a girl," Blakesley said cruelly. "We're getting quite good at ensuring what powers emerge too." Another thin slice across his ribs.
Taylor
Taylor flinched again.
"Why me?" he began again, his voice shaking.
"Why did you take me? Why was I taken in the first place, and not somebody else?"
Blakesley
Blakesley shrugged. "Because we wanted Jane back, and Miss Terry thought she could ensure your capture as well. We were quite enthused at gaining a full Dathrian. Hybrids are so much more common."
Taylor
Taylor looked to the roof and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.
He took comfort in knowing that Mouse wasn't involved again, but knew that if anything happened to him she could very well be feeling it. He had no idea how far the connection spread, and he had no idea of where he was.
Blakesley
"Jane's genetic code however...ah, it is something to behold. You know, it can hold almost any DNA we graft onto it? Simply lovely." Blakesley smiled slightly. "We will of course, at some point in the future, return to collect our property. Both Jane and her children."
Taylor
Taylor looked to the side wall, seeing a gaurd out the corner of his eye, and just shook his head.
"No," was all he said, pulling on the chains a little.
Blakesley
"No?" Blakesley's eyebrow went up slightly. "Rest assured, we will obtain her with as little problem as we have before." The knife darted out and cut another stripe into Taylor's side. "And the children? We already know how to counter the powers we have gifted them with."
Taylor
Taylor cringed from the cut, clenching his teeth together.
"I imagine you do, seeing how you made them in the first place."
He glanced at Blakesley, but his eyes quickly darted away.
Blakesley
"Yes. They're quite the works of art. Jane should feel privledged to carry them," Blakesley said, then moved over to the open cabinet. He ran his hand along the many instruments. "Where to begin, when there is so much choice, and a new canvas before me..."
Taylor
Taylor's eyes darted towards the cupboard, as his body continued shivering.
"What are..." he shook his head.
"I don't know, what you're... you're punishing me for something that I don't know I've done."
He gulped as he pulled on his wrists again.
"I mean... I mean for all that I, I know... you could be punishing me for something that I... haven't done."
Blakelsey
"You *did* help Natalia and Jane escape," Blakesley said reasonably as he picked up a different knife. "And no, I'm not showing you the surveillance tapes. It might give you ideas." He started to heat the blade.
Taylor
Taylor's eyes stung a little as he watched the blade heat, and gulped again.
He looked up at the camera again, not for the first time wishing he hadn't lost his memories.
"What... are you gonna do?" he stammered, watching the blade again.
Blakesley
"Um, hurt you. A lot. I would've thought that would have been perfectly obvious," Blakesley said as he played the lighter flame over the blade, watching it shade into white. "Right, that should be hot enough." He walked over. "Hold his head still," he ordered the guard, and one of them moved forward to hold Taylor by the hair. Blakesley eyed Taylor's neck, then carefully laid the hot blade against his skin.
Taylor
Taylor yelled out as his eyes began to water.
"NO! Don't! Don't... please, please," he almost whimpered.
Blakesley
Smoke curled upwards from under the knife. "Much different to the way you behaved last time..." Blakesley murmured into his ear. "Nothing to fight for, this time? No woman to impress with your bravery and masculinity at your ability to bear pain?" He kept pressing down with the knife, the stink of burnt skin filling the room.
Taylor
"Dammit..." Taylor cringed, the veins in his arms showing.
"I don't KNOW! I don't know, I don't know..."
He tried to hold his breath, but it didn't last for long.
Blakesley
Blakesley removed the knife, and went back over to the cupboard, dropping the knife in the appropriate receptable to send it off for cleaning. "Of course you don't. You had your memory erased." He picked up another knife. "Someone died for you, and you don't even know their name..."
Taylor
Taylor watched him through pain-stricken eyes, panting.
"What... what are you talking about?" his voice croaked, a lump in his throat.
Blakesley
"Some. One. Died. For. You," Blakesley enunciated clearly. "And you don't even remember their name."
Taylor
Taylor frowned, his neck still burning as he continued to pant.
"Who?" he asked softly, eventually.
He hated that he couldn't remember.
Blakesley
"Some piece of Mexican trash," Blakesley said, shrugging elegantly. "Ricardo something or other. I found the final scene where he died in your arms after an agent shot him by mistake almost...moving. In an almost comedic way. But that's the YIRAAAS for you. Shoot the human innocents as long as the aliens can get out..."
Taylor
Taylor almost coughed, but froze.
A Mexican? He must have spoken to him in another language, or helped him somehow...
He cursed almost silently, keeping his eyes down.
Blakesley
"Actually, let's watch it, shall we?" Blakesley said, moving to a keypad. A few buttons pressed, and a screen flickered onto the wall opposite Taylor. The numbers along the button showed the date. "This actually helped us figure out what your power was. You just used too many languages, too fluently."
"Te besa y te desnudo con tu
baile demencial
Tu cierras los ojitos y te
dejas arrastrar
Tu te dejas arrastrar..." The slim, slightly built Mexican man
dressed in a janitor's uniform sang quietly to himself as he moved
along the corridor, then opened a door. The camera angle changed to
show Taylor tied to a chair.
"Usted es gran cantante. ¿Usted canta en español a menudo?" Taylor said.
"Sí. Oh, me no suponen hablar con usted." Ricardo looked around fearfully. "Tienen cámaras fotográficas por todas partes. Esa muchacha pobre consiguió en bastante apuro. Conseguí casi encendido." He noticed the pool of blood and hesitated, gnawing his bottom lip.
Taylor
Taylor squinted at the screen, understanding perfectly what he and the Mexican were saying.
He started shaking his head slightly, honestly confused.
Blakesley
"This was the first time you met," Blakesley said casually. "Let's skip ahead, shall we?" He pressed a button, and the images flickered forwards.
"Hola otra vez, amigo. ¿Fue llamado los ' puentes de la piedra ', nunca estaba en un álbum o lanzado público," Taylor sighed, shivering from the cold, "cómo es usted?"
"Estoy muy bien. Los doctores no dijeron cualquier cosa sobre mí que hablaba con usted la otra noche, que es buena." Ricardo bent to the ground and carefully wiped up the droplets under the chair Taylor was sitting in. "No soy normalmente un hombre vengeful, sino que espero a estos hombres me quemo en el infierno para lo que él ha hecho. Deseo solamente que habría podido ayudar en una cierta manera pequeña. ¿Pero qué puedo hacer? Si deseo a mi familia para vivir, debo trabajar. No puedo encontrar ningún otro trabajo." He shrugged helplessly. "Es un ciclo que no puedo romperme." He moved slightly, then started to scrub at the bolt set into the floor.
"Podría estar roto, si usted lo deseaba," Taylor began softly, "Usted es un hombre muy fuerte, cuidadoso y que cuida. Hay muchos lugares en el mundo que amaría hacer que usted trabaje para ellos." He hesitated. "No deseo verle sufrir, usted soy un buen hombre. Soy seguro que saben de nosotros que hablan, él ahora saben de mi energía de la lengüeta."
"¿Me dice, cuánto mexicano usted ve el trabajo en América que no es trabajadores manuales? Somos limpiadores de América, sus criadas, sus jardineros. Era profesor en México, con todo uniforme éste paga mejor." Ricardo bit down on his bottom lip hard for a moment and scrubbed harder. "Estoy tomando clases inglesas, pero va lentamente, lentamente. E iguáleme entonces no podrá probablemente conseguir un trabajo mejor. Y un hombre de la conciencia se siente siempre para los dolores de otros. Para pues Jesús sufrió nosotros todos, así que necesidad yo intente caminar en su trayectoria."
"This was the night after you assisted Jane to escape."
Taylor
Taylor gulped, seeing the state of himself.
His stretched back, taking in a shaky breath. Were those needles? And heck, he bleeding like hell...
He turned away, not wanting to see any more.
Blakesley
"All my work, gone," Blakesley mused almost sadly. "Still, it means I get to begin again." He smiled slightly. "Let's progress, shall we?" He fast forwarded.
Lauren fired before he could bring it out. The young Mexican spun around and fell in a crumpled heap. Blood started to creep from his still body. Mouse cried out as she felt the bolt of pain run through him, and then the terrible struggle to breathe begin.
"NO!" Taylor cried, his eyes widening before throwing Mouse off him and rushing to Ricardo. He collapsed at his side. He took the man's hand, as tears sprang to his eyes. "They're here to help, they're here to help," he cried in both English and Spanish, "please, please... Talk to me..."
"Dios, ese daños..." Ricardo struggled for breath, then hacked, blood bubbling to his lips from the wound through his lung. "¿Madre... lastima, le hace la parada, por favor?" He was sinking fast, eyes black with pain and impending death. His breath rasped with a sickening wet sound to it as his lungs filled with blood.
Mouse went quickly to Taylor's side. Lauren stood there in shock.
"Who is it? Tay?" She knelt beside them. Lauren looked at the scene in front of her with horror.
Taylor started crying again, the tears running down his face. "No se preocupe, no se preocupe. encima pronto. Y el señor le dará la bienvenida con los brazos abiertos, porque usted es un hombre honesto. Le agradezco con todo mi corazón," he said desperately. He squeezed the hand he held, and held Ricardo's head.
"Taylor?" Mouse whispered, feeling the waves of grief radiating off him as this man he held struggled to breathe.
"¿No puede usted verla? La madre Maria... tan hermosa," Ricardo said, before coughing and blood spilling down his lips. "Escuche mí. La muerte no es el extremo. Voy. Usted debe vivir. Funcionamiento ahora. Ella me está llamando. Lo veo amperio hora, él lastimo. Pero están estando parados allí brillantes con la luz..." His breath rattled through his lungs and he stiffened for a moment, sitting up and reaching out for something, or someone. He fell back into Taylor.
Mouse reached out and closed his eyes. "He is gone." Lauren let out a small cry of horror.
"Mexicans. Idiots, truly."
Taylor
Taylor wished with everything that he could cover his ears. EVen though he wasn't watching he could still hear every word... and the words generated pictures of what could have happened.
"Dammit," he almost cried, looking up at the wall instead of down.
A tear ran down his left cheek.
Blakesley
Blakesley noted the signs of emotional distress in Taylor with satisfaction, setting the tape up so a continous loop of Ricardo's shooting played. "Doesn't he look so surprised? He was coming to help you. Apparently you made quite an impression on him...and you had to be reminded that he even existed....and he died in your arms."
Taylor
"Stop it, stop it, stop it..." he pleaded softly, shaking his head as he refused to look.
"Please, stop it. I don't remember. I can't remember. I would if I could, but I can't."
More tears followed.
Blakesley
"I wonder what he would think," Blakesley mused. "Would he forgive you for being weak? Or would he be angry that someone he died for, forgot him? Asked to forget him?"
Taylor
"I HAD to, I had to..." Taylor hung his head, blinking the tears away.
"I couldn't keep them. My sister's telepathic. I couldn't let her... she's only twelve! She can't see that..."
He shook his head.
Blaksley
"Ah, but what will it be like when she is here?" Blakesley said as he moved to the cupboard again, the gunshot and Ricardo's cry of pain and shock ringing out over and over again. "Hmm...what next? Blade, burn or freeze?"
Taylor
"She won't be here," Taylor looked up.
"She can't be. She has Master potential, and eventually nothing will surpass her. Nothing will contain her. And if you even..."
He cut himself off and closed his eyes. He couldn't let anything happen to Avie after what happened with the Spider. He wouldn't be able to live with himself.
Blakesley
"Who said I needed her alive and functioning?" Blakesley said in surprise. "Her body, if we got it chilled fast enough would be in good enough condition that we could use her ovaries and learn a great deal from an autopsy."
Taylor
Taylor jumped and squeezed his eyes shut, the vision of Avery frozen plagueing his mind already.
"No, no," he shook his head, tears continuing to fall.
"So many people already look up to her. You wouldn't have a hope in hell."
He swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat.
Blaksley
"You think? May I remind you that we have taken you twice, and Jane as well?" Blakesley snorted in derision. "Rest assured, now that we knw who you are, after you took such pains to convince us you were who you said you were, we have our eye on your family. The astral projectionist should be easy to control...as should the one with flight. Children can be frightened into submission so easily, espically if other older family members die in front of them."
Taylor
Taylor's head shot up, his eyes fixed on the doctor.
"You wouldn't have a hope in hell of containing Ike, Zac or my telepathic sister," he shook his head, "Ike and Zac have already said they'd kill you on sight. And they could... and would."
Blakesley
"I don't usually appear on the actual missions. I made an exception for you and Jane," Blakesley said calmly. "And for telekinesis and temperature manipulation, we've already learnt as much as we need to do. As I've already said, we don't need your sister alive. I very much doubt whether we'd need the two elder of your brothers alive either."
Taylor
"You obviously don't realise how hard it would be to kill either of them," Taylor shook his hair out of his eyes again.
"If you did you wouldn't even be contemplating it. Not to mention the people around them helping out. You may kow our powers, but you don't know about the people we socialise with."
Despite Taylor being more open, his body was still shaking slightly.
Blakesley
"Perhaps, perhaps," Blakesley mocked as he picked up a series of needles. "Let us begin again." He moved to stand in front of Taylor, bending slightly to drive a needle through his nipple.
Taylor
Taylor clenched his fists and pulled on the chains, making his hands turn bright red.
"NO! No..."
He shook his head, trying to curl in on his body.
"Don't, don't, don't..."
Blakelsey
"And that always works so well." Blakesley laughed slightly. "Telling me not to...never worked for Natalia. And she's been here a lot longer then you have ever been. I tortured her for you. You won't remember that either." He inserted another needle through Taylor's other nipple.
Taylor
"Please, don't..." Taylor cried, shaking his head.
"What do you want? What can..."
He cried out again.
Blakesley
"There is nothing I want that you can offer me...yet." Blakesley's smile was chilling. "And this is to make you break. No more. No less." Another needle slid in beside the first one.
Taylor
Taylor's body shook from the pain as tears slid down his face.
"Dammit, why?! Why do I have to break?!" he cried, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Why can't you just trust that I will... I'l do whatever the hell you tell me to?!"
Blakesley
"I don't trust anyone. That lesson has been well and truly drummed into me by my father." Blakesley slid a needle into the soft skin of Taylor's arm. "You know who my first human I practiced my art on was, and when? My mother, and I was fifteen. Never trust anybody. Never love."
Taylor
Taylor's head snapped into the opposite direction as he cried out at the pain in his arm.
He'd already come to the conclusion that Blakesley was a psycho in need of medical help. Desperately.
"You should try it sometime," he managed to choke out.
Blakesley
"To love, some form of trust must be evident. I've observed the phonemon." Blakesley moved away. "Never experienced it."
Taylor
"Well get out into the real world and find it."
Taylor looked up for a moment. But as soon as the doctor's eyes caught his he hurriedly looked away.
Blakesley
"It's too late for that," Blakesley said almost regretfully. "I'm too set in what I've become." He shook himself briskly. "While I always enjoy a round of philosophy with my art, I think it's time I got back to it." He picked up a small electric genrator. With a few movements, alligator clips were attached to one of the needles, and the switch was flipped.
Taylor
Taylor cried out - almost screamed - as he felt his body jolt uncontrollably.
He could feel his ankles becoming raw as they fought against the chains, and a single drop of blood falling from his right wrist.
Blakesley
After a few moments, Blakesley cut the power. He removed the clips and moved back to the cupboard. With a thoughtful look on his face, he got out a scalpel. He then walked back over and knelt slightly by Taylor, before drawing the point of the scalpel up the inside of Taylor's arm. He quickly drew another parallel line, then a series of horizontal ones. This looked somewhat like a ladder. Then slowly, slowly, he started to peel back the first square of skin.
Taylor
Taylor flinched, holding back an exclamation. But the lump in his throat became too much, and he had to let out a cry of pain.
"Please, please, please... stop it! Dammit..."
Blakesley
Blakesley ignored him, and kept peeling. Soon, there was a bloody rectangle down the length of Taylor's forearm. Blakesley went to the cupboard and removed some disinfectant and bandages. He sprayed the area with disinfectant, before efficently bandaging it. He also sprayed the other areas with the disinfectant. He left the needles in, however. He went back over to the cupboard, and removed a shining ring of metal. This was clipped around Taylor's neck. The fit was quite close.
Taylor
Taylor gulped again, panting a little, as his eyes watered from the sting as well as fear.
"Please... leave me alone," he murmured, shaking his head as he kept his eyes to the floor.
Blakesley
"For today...I'm done. I'll be back tomorrow to see you, however." Blakesley stepped back and nodded at the two guards. "Take him back to the first cell he was in."
They stepped forward.
"Soon, I think...I shall start on the human."
Taylor
Taylor coughed a little as the guards began to unchain his wrists. Handcuffs were locked on instead, before they began to unchain his ankles.
"But what does Ewan have to do with anything?" Taylor asked, confused, "he's human. He doens't... there's no reason for him to be here."
Blakesley
"I have my own reasons. As you will see. For the moment, his pitiful attempts to protect Natalia amuse me," Blakesley said coldly as the guards went about their tasks. "Besides, my father will want a chance to come in and observe my work. For that, Ewan is immeninetly suited because it doesn't matter so much if he lives or dies."
Taylor
Ok, Blakesley obviously thought he was God or something. Satan may have been better suited.
Taylor gulped again as he was pulled to his feet and the guards began to lead him from the room.
Ewan and Natalia
Blakesley closed up the room, and put in an order for cleaning, before leaving.
The guards led Taylor back down to the original cell, and opened the door. Ewan looked up, startled, drawing Natalia into him closer as he was interrupted in the middle of his crooning Scottish lullaby. They shoved Taylor in, then left.
"So, ye back."
"Hurt so pretty, blood flowers and electric butterflies," Natalia halfsang. "Shining like cat's eyes in the dark and biting like rats deep, deep, oh so deep. I'm lost again." Her hand fluttered like a dying bird.
"Shhhh..." Ewan rocked her slightly in his lap.
Taylor
Taylor stared at them through pain-stricken eyes for a moment, before going to the side wall and leaning against it. There, he slid to the ground and closed his eyes.
He whispered a prayer for Mouse, hoping that she wasn't close enough to feel his pain.
Ewan and Natalia
Natalia whimpered slightly as Ewan leant his head back against the wall. "Sleep, bonny, sleep."
She closed her eyes obiedently, and soon Ewan followed her into sleep. Traces of the drugs still floated through their systems, affecting them.