The Killer Of A Child
By: Atomic Kokoro
Storyline
Tony becomes a dark killer after merciless interrogation and torture. He earns his revenge.
Before You Read
What the heck was wrong with me lately?
I been writing some really scary fanfictions lately. "The Way Fire Burns" has Yaoi/Lime, this one is freaking bloody and I had a curse word in "Choir of Voices, an Angel Sings".
Should I be scared?
On with the story.
…
The Killer Of A Child
Bang!
Tony collapsed to the ground, screaming and growling in pain. "Direct hit, sir," a man said through his radio, dismounting his gun.
"Remember; we want him alive, Sharp. Bring him back," a strong, male voice replied.
Sharp nodded and approached the injured boy, who was still growling in agony and frustration. The man took a good look over Tony, trying to figure out where, exactly, he had shot the bullet.
The young spy was clutching his left thigh, blood pouring from the wound onto his hand and into the snow. The man grabbed Tony by the arm roughly and dragged him along the ground towards the base Sharp was sent to, beating him once and again as they returned.
Not once had Tony managed to raise to his feet on their way there. However, Tony managed to slip from the man's arms and tried to escape, but Sharp was strong and quick.
And cruel enough to punish him for escaping.
Tony screamed and struggled as he was dragged back to the base. His efforts proved nothing and he was locked in a room just inside the base's perimeter. The room wasn't heated and it was too cold outside for anyone to survive without a heating source.
So what made him think he could escape?
He screamed and sobbed, half-hoping someone would hear him and save him. The other half knew no one was going to save him. He was a prisoner to America. If they wanted to see to it he was shot, he was shot. If they wanted to interrogate him for answers, he would be interrogated.
And there was nothing anyone could do about it.
He spent countless hours trying to understand why this was happening to him. What had he done to be captured and tortured like this? What had he done to be hunted down and imprisoned like an animal? What could he, alone, do to endanger America? Or any other country, for that matter?
The boy had been kept in the prison building for far too long. Frost was building on his eyelashes and he couldn't find the voice to sob. His tears froze as ice on his cheeks. His body quivered and shook from the cold, his arms wrapped around his body to keep himself warm. He feared death of the cold if he didn't die of starvation.
He had been there for weeks before his escape, tortured, starved, beaten. He really missed his family. He missed his siblings. He missed school and his friends and the missions he and his team were sent on.
Did anyone notice he was missing?
Sharp entered his room days later, curious to see if the boy was dead or alive. Tony was alive, but just barely. How much longer did he have until death greeted him?
The man grabbed the back of the boy's collar, waking him in an instant, and dragged him out the door. There was no action from him when being brought into the base. Tony couldn't believe how relieved he felt when he discovered the main base was heated.
His tears heated back to liquid and the frost on his eyelashes melted. The bullet wound still pulsed, each throb sending a wave of pain through his body. His eyes finally opened a small bit. Everything was blurry. The light was intense from the darkness from his eyes being constantly closed and the sky was covered in dark clouds 24/7.
Tony found himself strapped to a table that stood almost straight up but it was tilted back a little. He stirred but didn't fully regain his senses. He could only catch a few words and phrases.
"...the boss said...and he is..."
"...but he's just...we can't..."
"...we have...no choice..."
"...but...inhumane..."
"...no choice..."
Tony blinked and finally regained what senses were lost. "W-what...?"
The two men, one Sharp and the other unnamed, looked at Tony before looking back at each other. They sighed and left the room. Tony sat in silence for a minute before beginning to struggle against his bounds. "Hey! Come back here! What do you think you're doing?"
He stared through the glass where one of the two men, the unnamed one, began to fiddle with the controls. He stopped for a minute and looked up at Tony before pressing a button.
An electric shock traveled through his whole body, forcing a terrible scream to erupt from his throat. The shock tore him apart for the deepest reaches of his being. Another thread of his sanity had vanished with the electrocution.
Again and again, he was tortured without reason. And each and every time a shock was sent through his body, another piece, another part of his childish innocence was killed. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth. His skin parted, creating cuts and rashes.
Hours passed and his body grew numb. His voice grew weak and was eventually silenced.
The unnamed one behind the glass stopped. The boy's chest heaved up and down. His breath was shallow and uneven. The torturer stepped into the room and slowly walked to the boy.
He placed a hand on his forehead and Tony looked up. His eyes were cold. Hard. Unforgiving. The man shook his head. "Another child lost to torture. Another killer born from the child's suffering."
The man turned and left the room to retrieve Sharp.
When the returned, Sharp was almost shocked at how deadly Tony looked. The boy could kill.
Sharp released the boy from the torture table. Tony stumbled at first, but he fixed himself. "You'll make a great addition to our forces, Clark."
That's what they wanted him for? All the torture, all the suffering and beatings and starvation just to join a stupid force? He wasn't going through with it. No, not anymore. "Forget it," he muttered. "I won't join."
Sharp chuckled. "Fine," he said. "I was hoping you would agree, but if you won't join, I'll have you punished and shot."
Tony just stared at the glass. "I'm not the one being punished," he whispered. "You'll all die."
The only things Sharp managed to catch was the one step forward Tony took and the shattering of the glass. He pulled his radio to his mouth and yelled, "Code red! We have a rouge on the loose."
…
Tony weaved between the boxes slowly and quietly, waiting for the perfect time to strike. An unsuspecting soldier sipping some whiskey and sneaking a sandwich into his patrol time.
He made his move quickly and silently. He made his move deadly. Tony reached up behind the soldier, grabbed his chin, wrapped one arm around the shoulders, and, in one swift movement, snapped the soldiers neck.
The soldier collapsed onto the floor, dead cold. The broken spy picked up the weapon he dropped; a AK47. With a twisted smile crept onto his face when the sound of a thousand guards' footsteps broke through the door.
Tony glanced up, sizing up every soldier, gunner, bomber. Several picked up the guns and opened fire. Tony didn't so much as flinch. He pulled up his gun with one arm and fired at every man and every bullet hit their target.
Blood splattered against the wall and against his face. The red liquid trickled from new wounds from the bullets.
The boy turned and kicked open a crate labeled "C4" and smiled.
…
He walked down the halls fearlessly, unafraid of anything and anyone. He tossed C4 wherever he saw fit which was anywhere, really.
He continued to take out guards without hesitation, not flinch, not so much as a faulted step. The bullet wound throbbed painfully. His head ached, every fiber of his being screaming with agony, but he had lost himself within himself.
He no longer cared.
Tony exited the base quietly. He walked calmly, with confidence and deadly eyes. Drenched in blood, both his and not. Scratches, bruises. He pulled something from his pocket, a detonator, pressing the button. There was a large explosion and the base erupted into flames and fire.
Tony didn't look back.
He walked away without showing any sign that he knew the fire was there. He did acknowledge the burning man running from the base, screaming in agony. Tony did nothing but walk.
The killer of a child.