"Fuck 'em"
The man with the gun made no other words as he sat in his rusty chair next to the cell. The place was musty and old. Grime and mold were hanging from the ceiling with the stench of gunpowder and sweat.
The gun clanked against the cell as he reached for it and pulled it on his lap. He examined it for a moment, and then cocked it, eying the wall in front of him.
With one quick pull the bullet rang out in the echoing warehouse causing the captives to flinch in their cells. The man simply put the gun down and laughed looking at the deep bullet wound in the wall.
The warehouse grew silent again.
Michael Vaughn sat in his cell, the sweat dripping from his brow. His hands were bruised and scarred with his hair now almost a black color from the dirt. He only wore a t-shirt and khaki pants, which now were soiled and smelly. His face showed 4 more years of age and his eyes now a gray color. His body was limp and tired with his skin a pasty white and dry.
With nothing more than a toothpick and a piece of string, he was able to stop himself from going insane. He spoke little and when he was ordered to do something, he did it on automatic, thinking nothing, feeling nothing.
One guard brought him a dinner of peas and dried chicken every day at 6. That was his measurement of the time. It felt like darkness 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. The only time he ever saw sun was when it rose in the morning, filtering through the cell windows and landing itself on the concrete floor.
His eyes moved up to the cell bars and he looked out. The guard was looking right at him, smiling like he hit the lottery. He didn't have the strength to fight him, so he looked back down and played with his string.
Suddenly he heard footsteps of urgency. Moving towards the sound, he noticed a fight breaking out. They were common and usually broken up by a gunshot to the stomach, didn't matter who started it.
Putting his head back down in defeat he slowly shifted his feet back to his mattress and sat back down, tying the string into another knot.
The sound of a gunshot told him the fight was dealt with. Crossing his legs, he pulled them up to his chest and took a breath. Closing his eyes for a moment, he kept saying her name.
He heard the sound of a cell opening and he looked to see the guard throw him his tray of peas and chicken.
"Dinner is served."
The tray clinked and clanked against the floor and made its way to his feet. Turning, Vaughn threw it to the side and pulled his legs back up into his chest, saying her name, this time, softly.
When he awoke he felt the sun hitting his face and he winced. He never woke up to the natural elements; it was always a gun or a shout. Opening his eyes slowly he felt a warm hand on his stomach and he turned to the side.
Amazed and shocked wasn't quite his reaction as he saw her laying there, her hair covering her face.
Quickly he stared at the ceiling and tried to figure out what the hell happened in the last 10 hours. Then he heard her turn and speak in mumbled words.
".ughn.Vaughn.."
Turning his head back to her, he slowly saw her eyes open slowly and peel the hair off her face. She gave him a slight smile and moved her hand on his arm, caressing it lightly.
"Morning."
He felt the sting of a needle in his arm and he jumped. The dried sweat caused his eyes to blink a few times and when he looked, he saw only darkness.
The needle was released and he quickly felt cold steel on his ankles. He winced and fought it, only to find yelling and a slap on the arm. Calming down, his arm was grabbed and he was put on the ground.
"You're in for some serious shit."
Putting his head down, he walked as best he could down the long hall, with two guards holding him up and stopping all circulation in his arms.
The door opened and he entered, to find a chair and more buckles. He was helped on it and quickly tied up. His ankles, wrists and head were all strapped down as his eyes adjusted to the bright light. The room smelled of chemicals and smoke with tan walls and a cabinet stocked with illegal substances.
Feeling a cold hand on his forehead he got a good look at the man. Grey and aged, his eyes popped out of their sockets, his smile was a mix between the devil and Hitler himself. His skin was yellowed and his lab coat was stained with blood and human fluids. Vaughn winced as the man shadowed over the light, his body leaning over him. The man kept his hand on his forehead for a few more moments before pulling it away and turning to his college, making a gesture.
The air became thick as he felt the straps cutting off the circulation to his feet. Breathing became difficult as he struggled with his wrists being strapped. Looking to the man, he saw him testing several chemicals with the syringes. The liquid flew out several times and then he turned to Vaughn, smiling again.
Walking over to him again, he touched his leg gently, pulling up the pant leg, exposing flesh. He tapped the syringe against the skin and looked to Vaughn. His grimy smile made Vaughn gasp for breath.
"My, my are we nervous?"
Vaughn formed a defiant face, his eyes slit and his body tightened up all over. The sweat from his brow stopped before his eye lid keeping his eyes fully observable.
The man simply chuckled and tapped the syringe again, putting the needle on the skin.
"Mr. Vaughn I remember you being a good agent once, too bad you got careless."
He quickly formed a fist with his hands, causing the knuckles to go bright white. If he was going to be out, he wanted to fight it as long as he could.
With his eyes still open, he looked back to the man to see him walking to the other side of his body, pulling up his other pant leg and observing his skin. The syringe stayed steady in his hand and he made no quick movement to use it.
The light felt brighter on Vaughn's face as he fought the anxiety and smell. Suddenly, he felt another man's hand on his forehead and the light again became blocked.
This man was younger. Dressed in a t shirt and jeans he looked like a construction worker, not a killer. He smiled, only for a moment but Vaughn quickly saw he was missing two front teeth and his teeth were yellowed. His hand was calloused and rough as he rubbed his forehead lightly.
"No, sir, he's just a bit pale..isn't that right?"
Vaughn nodded and watched at the other man walked back to his spot in the corner of the room. Holding his gaze he watched the man make a quick note on a clipboard and look at the man observing Vaughn's skin.
He felt the cold rush of a fluid into his leg and he closed his eyes, not wanting to know what it was. He turned his head slightly to the wall and opened his eyes to see it painted a fresh coat of tan. "That was only the beginning."
His eyes closed again and he felt his body feel lighter. He could flex his arms and he opened then slowly again. Again he felt a warm hand on his.
"Vaughn, Vaughn!"
Opening his eyes wide, he saw her close to him, her eyes right by his. He winced and rubbed his eyes, finding himself on a soft couch.
Looking around he saw he was in a living room. Her living room. He popped his body up and almost hit her.
Shock ran through his body as he looked at himself. No bruises, no dirt, no smell. He was fine. Completely fine.
Again he felt her warm hand on his arm and he looked to her, fear and amazement in his eyes.
"Are you all right?"
"No."
Hearing the sound of gunshots his eyes opened. Sticky seat stuck to his eyelids as he opened them wide. The room was dark and he turned his head back to see the man in a small light, testing more chemicals.
He smelled chicken and peas. Looking to the corner he saw an empty tray and suddenly he felt his stomach churn. He looked to his legs to see them punctured a few times, dried blood lines ran from his legs to his ankles.
Suddenly he felt the sting of pain running through his arms. He looked to find them pale and purple. He flexed his fingers a few times to find the pain even more prevalent and stingy.
"Oh I see we have woken up. Good. I need to ask you a question."
The man walked to Vaughn and pulled his head back by his hair and breathed deeply. Vaughn could feel his cold breath on his lips.
"Would you like the blue or the green liquid first?"
Staying quiet but observant he shifted his head a few inches. His head was feeling like dead weight as the man let go and his head dropped back on the headrest.
The man watched him for a moment and smiled again. This time the smile was wider and Vaughn could only close his eyes at the sight.
Quickly again, Vaughn felt the pain shoot through his arm as the man grabbed his fingers and played with his bones. Taking his ring finger, the man pulled it and then snapped it in half.
This time, Vaughn cried out in pain as he felt the break. When he calmed he looked to his hand to see it red and bruised.
The man hovered back over him and gave a slight chuckle, the syringe now up to his ear. He flicked it once causing the liquid to spurt on Vaughn's arm. It trailed slowly down his arm to the ground where the sound of dripping could be heard.
"Now, maybe you can tell me. Blue or green?"
Vaughn through labored breath whispered softly, not wanting to endure any more pain. His head jerked and he felt the cold contact of the needle on his left leg. He took a deep breath and held it as he felt the liquid seep into his skin. It was warm and he felt it flow up his leg to his chest where he fought for breath for a moment.
Then just like that, his chest burned and his eyes closed.
The cool wind caused Vaughn to struggle for breath but in a moment, he felt his soul lift and his heart rate increase. Looking to both sides of him he saw only sand and water.
Hearing the sounds of the ocean crashing against the rocks caused him to walk towards it and he found her moments later, sitting in the sand, looking out. Her arms hugged her legs and her hair was blowing in the breeze, causing him to smile.
When he reached her, he put out his arm and she took it willingly, but still not looking at him. He was puzzled and he sat next to her, keeping silent.
His bare feet traced circles as he waited for her to speak. His arms felt heavy as he touched her arm, tracing small circles on it.
"Where did you go?"
"I don't know."
In an instant, he felt his body convulse and he opened his eyes within milliseconds. His feet felt like bricks and his arms felt like feathers as he felt the warm sensation of fluids entering his arms.
Turning slowly he saw his sleeve rolled up and pricked. The man hovered over him but Vaughn saw only a blurred image with his arms trailing and movements slowed. His voice was an echo and faint, Vaughn couldn't make out the words.
The man with the gun made no other words as he sat in his rusty chair next to the cell. The place was musty and old. Grime and mold were hanging from the ceiling with the stench of gunpowder and sweat.
The gun clanked against the cell as he reached for it and pulled it on his lap. He examined it for a moment, and then cocked it, eying the wall in front of him.
With one quick pull the bullet rang out in the echoing warehouse causing the captives to flinch in their cells. The man simply put the gun down and laughed looking at the deep bullet wound in the wall.
The warehouse grew silent again.
Michael Vaughn sat in his cell, the sweat dripping from his brow. His hands were bruised and scarred with his hair now almost a black color from the dirt. He only wore a t-shirt and khaki pants, which now were soiled and smelly. His face showed 4 more years of age and his eyes now a gray color. His body was limp and tired with his skin a pasty white and dry.
With nothing more than a toothpick and a piece of string, he was able to stop himself from going insane. He spoke little and when he was ordered to do something, he did it on automatic, thinking nothing, feeling nothing.
One guard brought him a dinner of peas and dried chicken every day at 6. That was his measurement of the time. It felt like darkness 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. The only time he ever saw sun was when it rose in the morning, filtering through the cell windows and landing itself on the concrete floor.
His eyes moved up to the cell bars and he looked out. The guard was looking right at him, smiling like he hit the lottery. He didn't have the strength to fight him, so he looked back down and played with his string.
Suddenly he heard footsteps of urgency. Moving towards the sound, he noticed a fight breaking out. They were common and usually broken up by a gunshot to the stomach, didn't matter who started it.
Putting his head back down in defeat he slowly shifted his feet back to his mattress and sat back down, tying the string into another knot.
The sound of a gunshot told him the fight was dealt with. Crossing his legs, he pulled them up to his chest and took a breath. Closing his eyes for a moment, he kept saying her name.
He heard the sound of a cell opening and he looked to see the guard throw him his tray of peas and chicken.
"Dinner is served."
The tray clinked and clanked against the floor and made its way to his feet. Turning, Vaughn threw it to the side and pulled his legs back up into his chest, saying her name, this time, softly.
When he awoke he felt the sun hitting his face and he winced. He never woke up to the natural elements; it was always a gun or a shout. Opening his eyes slowly he felt a warm hand on his stomach and he turned to the side.
Amazed and shocked wasn't quite his reaction as he saw her laying there, her hair covering her face.
Quickly he stared at the ceiling and tried to figure out what the hell happened in the last 10 hours. Then he heard her turn and speak in mumbled words.
".ughn.Vaughn.."
Turning his head back to her, he slowly saw her eyes open slowly and peel the hair off her face. She gave him a slight smile and moved her hand on his arm, caressing it lightly.
"Morning."
He felt the sting of a needle in his arm and he jumped. The dried sweat caused his eyes to blink a few times and when he looked, he saw only darkness.
The needle was released and he quickly felt cold steel on his ankles. He winced and fought it, only to find yelling and a slap on the arm. Calming down, his arm was grabbed and he was put on the ground.
"You're in for some serious shit."
Putting his head down, he walked as best he could down the long hall, with two guards holding him up and stopping all circulation in his arms.
The door opened and he entered, to find a chair and more buckles. He was helped on it and quickly tied up. His ankles, wrists and head were all strapped down as his eyes adjusted to the bright light. The room smelled of chemicals and smoke with tan walls and a cabinet stocked with illegal substances.
Feeling a cold hand on his forehead he got a good look at the man. Grey and aged, his eyes popped out of their sockets, his smile was a mix between the devil and Hitler himself. His skin was yellowed and his lab coat was stained with blood and human fluids. Vaughn winced as the man shadowed over the light, his body leaning over him. The man kept his hand on his forehead for a few more moments before pulling it away and turning to his college, making a gesture.
The air became thick as he felt the straps cutting off the circulation to his feet. Breathing became difficult as he struggled with his wrists being strapped. Looking to the man, he saw him testing several chemicals with the syringes. The liquid flew out several times and then he turned to Vaughn, smiling again.
Walking over to him again, he touched his leg gently, pulling up the pant leg, exposing flesh. He tapped the syringe against the skin and looked to Vaughn. His grimy smile made Vaughn gasp for breath.
"My, my are we nervous?"
Vaughn formed a defiant face, his eyes slit and his body tightened up all over. The sweat from his brow stopped before his eye lid keeping his eyes fully observable.
The man simply chuckled and tapped the syringe again, putting the needle on the skin.
"Mr. Vaughn I remember you being a good agent once, too bad you got careless."
He quickly formed a fist with his hands, causing the knuckles to go bright white. If he was going to be out, he wanted to fight it as long as he could.
With his eyes still open, he looked back to the man to see him walking to the other side of his body, pulling up his other pant leg and observing his skin. The syringe stayed steady in his hand and he made no quick movement to use it.
The light felt brighter on Vaughn's face as he fought the anxiety and smell. Suddenly, he felt another man's hand on his forehead and the light again became blocked.
This man was younger. Dressed in a t shirt and jeans he looked like a construction worker, not a killer. He smiled, only for a moment but Vaughn quickly saw he was missing two front teeth and his teeth were yellowed. His hand was calloused and rough as he rubbed his forehead lightly.
"No, sir, he's just a bit pale..isn't that right?"
Vaughn nodded and watched at the other man walked back to his spot in the corner of the room. Holding his gaze he watched the man make a quick note on a clipboard and look at the man observing Vaughn's skin.
He felt the cold rush of a fluid into his leg and he closed his eyes, not wanting to know what it was. He turned his head slightly to the wall and opened his eyes to see it painted a fresh coat of tan. "That was only the beginning."
His eyes closed again and he felt his body feel lighter. He could flex his arms and he opened then slowly again. Again he felt a warm hand on his.
"Vaughn, Vaughn!"
Opening his eyes wide, he saw her close to him, her eyes right by his. He winced and rubbed his eyes, finding himself on a soft couch.
Looking around he saw he was in a living room. Her living room. He popped his body up and almost hit her.
Shock ran through his body as he looked at himself. No bruises, no dirt, no smell. He was fine. Completely fine.
Again he felt her warm hand on his arm and he looked to her, fear and amazement in his eyes.
"Are you all right?"
"No."
Hearing the sound of gunshots his eyes opened. Sticky seat stuck to his eyelids as he opened them wide. The room was dark and he turned his head back to see the man in a small light, testing more chemicals.
He smelled chicken and peas. Looking to the corner he saw an empty tray and suddenly he felt his stomach churn. He looked to his legs to see them punctured a few times, dried blood lines ran from his legs to his ankles.
Suddenly he felt the sting of pain running through his arms. He looked to find them pale and purple. He flexed his fingers a few times to find the pain even more prevalent and stingy.
"Oh I see we have woken up. Good. I need to ask you a question."
The man walked to Vaughn and pulled his head back by his hair and breathed deeply. Vaughn could feel his cold breath on his lips.
"Would you like the blue or the green liquid first?"
Staying quiet but observant he shifted his head a few inches. His head was feeling like dead weight as the man let go and his head dropped back on the headrest.
The man watched him for a moment and smiled again. This time the smile was wider and Vaughn could only close his eyes at the sight.
Quickly again, Vaughn felt the pain shoot through his arm as the man grabbed his fingers and played with his bones. Taking his ring finger, the man pulled it and then snapped it in half.
This time, Vaughn cried out in pain as he felt the break. When he calmed he looked to his hand to see it red and bruised.
The man hovered back over him and gave a slight chuckle, the syringe now up to his ear. He flicked it once causing the liquid to spurt on Vaughn's arm. It trailed slowly down his arm to the ground where the sound of dripping could be heard.
"Now, maybe you can tell me. Blue or green?"
Vaughn through labored breath whispered softly, not wanting to endure any more pain. His head jerked and he felt the cold contact of the needle on his left leg. He took a deep breath and held it as he felt the liquid seep into his skin. It was warm and he felt it flow up his leg to his chest where he fought for breath for a moment.
Then just like that, his chest burned and his eyes closed.
The cool wind caused Vaughn to struggle for breath but in a moment, he felt his soul lift and his heart rate increase. Looking to both sides of him he saw only sand and water.
Hearing the sounds of the ocean crashing against the rocks caused him to walk towards it and he found her moments later, sitting in the sand, looking out. Her arms hugged her legs and her hair was blowing in the breeze, causing him to smile.
When he reached her, he put out his arm and she took it willingly, but still not looking at him. He was puzzled and he sat next to her, keeping silent.
His bare feet traced circles as he waited for her to speak. His arms felt heavy as he touched her arm, tracing small circles on it.
"Where did you go?"
"I don't know."
In an instant, he felt his body convulse and he opened his eyes within milliseconds. His feet felt like bricks and his arms felt like feathers as he felt the warm sensation of fluids entering his arms.
Turning slowly he saw his sleeve rolled up and pricked. The man hovered over him but Vaughn saw only a blurred image with his arms trailing and movements slowed. His voice was an echo and faint, Vaughn couldn't make out the words.