This is merely a prologue so I will say that any chacters that are not my brainchildren belong to their respective owners but any characters you've never heard of are mine. I will say that I am working out the kinks in the story so I will be doing a re-upload soon. This is merely the beginning of HOW A REAL PLOT SHOULD BE WRITTEN!
- SunChildRay
p.s thanks everyone for your patience and my apologizes that making a new story took so long. And just so you know I'm writing the titles in Latin... iunno why but it just feels right.
EXTRAHO
(Prologue)
In a grime-covered room a single body hangs facing a blackened window and a single camera, its steady clicking and whirling act as constant noise aside from the ragged breathing of the thin, barely-clothed figure that hangs suspended two feet in the air. The shackles of the chains that encase the wrists are damaging the skin- turning them blue and black; A pair of feet hangs helplessly, yet just a moment ago the sound of scraping nails could be heard as it scratched away at the cement floor below begging to touch the ground below; however, there is no relief for the poor soul who hangs against his will. A door opens, the sound of rusty metal grinds heavily against the floor.
There are two sets of footsteps- one heeled and light, indiscreet, while the other was heavy and rushed.
"How is the procedure running? The Warden wants results. A.S.A.P." A woman's voice?
"Look, these things take time if we rush this we lose the information you need or worse… his mind collapses. And then getting results is nearly impossible." Perhaps this one was male… or female… hard to tell, but it was heavy and smooth sounding.
"It doesn't matter to us about what state of mind we put him in. He can become catatonic for all I care just as long as we get what we need."
"Nice to know…" the sarcasm in the smooth sounding voice was evident.
The subtle sound of heels stop in front of him and he could feel eyes crawling over his skin and body with a scrutinizing gaze.
"Are you feeding him?"
"Yes but mostly nutrient pills, we stay away from carbs and high sugars. We give him enough to live but not enough to put up a fight." This voice was clearly male, gruff and deep. But he could swear that he heard only two sets of shoes walking into his... prison.
"Good." Slowly cold fingers are wrapped around a chin and lifted. "Stay with me… " The voice was demanding but not harsh.
Slowly the ground begins to blur- the urge that has been churning in the stomach for the past few hours was too strong. Thin fingers quickly release as vomit comes pouring out from his mouth but there are no chunks of digested food only hydrochloric acid. Teary eyes watch as their body fluid stains the floor with it's a clear yellow liquid… it looks so harmless on the grime covered, stone floor making it difficult to believe that it's makes the throat burn and gives the body shakes. The taste remains in the mouth and mixes with spit to make swallowing easier, working through the burn. The burning sensation fades while vision starts to have black edges as objects flex in and out of clarity. Slowly the youth starts to slack on the chains… ready to die…
"He's fading… give him another shot."
"Are you serious? He can't take anymore!"
"Humf… he's not at his limit yet."
"Not at his-The limit was five shots ago!"
Droll dribbles slowly out the right side of the mouth. Slowly his chin is lifted and water- filled eyes stare at the blurred image of, what is thought to be, a woman with shoulder length brown hair… but it is difficult to tell. The woman looks into the doe-like brown eyes but finds that they have not given in, there is fire still in those veins and it burns through them, challenging her, making it known that they will not be broken so easily.
"Yes, he hasn't quite reached his limit just yet…"
End