Author's Note: I so sick of proofreading this chapter, I don't care anymore, if there are mistakes tell me and I'll fix them…anyway this will probably be the last chapter for a while. I'm a lazy person and I don't have any more that I've previously written. Also, I kind of fail at writing in accents. Forgive me.
Maître Master, or so French translators tell me.
Chapter 9: Savior
He looked at the man beside him out of the corner of his eye; the young man was smiling excitedly. What an idiot. How could he have been paired with this little twit?
"You know vhat you are to do, ja?" He asked voice heavily accented. Not once did he turn his head to look directly at his so-called partner.
"But of course I know ze plan Maître." The young man replied in his aggravating way of speaking. "I will go in and find 'im, it won't be zat difficult." A quiet 'un' finished his sentence.
Silence fell between them, for they had nothing to say to each other. In that stillness there lay a deep unsettling rift of disagreement. Nether of them could completely agree on what true beauty was, and it severely affected their partnership. Their missions were completed, but never without a bitter sort of difference dividing them. Their opinions were everything to them.
The two came to a gradual halt. They gazed at the soft glow of electric lights in the hazy distance; it looked like a bright lonely island drifting in a world of swirling fog. The base was the only source of light for miles.
"Zey certainly want zis place hidden, un." The younger man spoke, turning to look down at his partner.
The older man was hunched over, this head stuck out directly in front of him, oddly resembling a turtle. His body was twisted into such a position it would have caused any other man great pain, however the elder couldn't feel pain any more, or anything for that matter. He'd long since taken care of such trivial things.
His Maître didn't bother to look at him. Instead the glassy dead eyes stared forward.
"Don't keep me vaiting."
The young man smiled mischievously. In a flash he was gone, just a streak of blond sprinting off towards the glowing base. For the plan to work, he had to be the first.
"Brat." The hunched back muttered and shuffled after his partner. He would have to stay within a semi-close range, the young idiot would surly grab a lot of unwanted attention, his "art" always did.
---
With sure strokes, Hidan finished the symbol on the pristine white wall. A triangle within a circle, dozens of them now lined the inside of the room, each painstakingly painted with his blood. After muttering a prayer of forgiveness, Hidan moved down to another clean spot on the wall and started over.
He'd been performing this ritual of clemency and pardon for a long time now, ever since the White Coats had jolted his memory. He needed to be forgiven, The Pit had nearly erased his values and he had allowed it. This was unforgivable, but Jashin was a merciful god to those who pledged their undying loyalty.
Hidan bit at his wrist until his eyetooth caught and reopened the jagged congealing wound. Dipping his fingers into the running blood, he began to sketch the outline of a circle on the wall. At first, he'd used the edged of a plastic cup he'd broken to drawl the needed blood. However, the guards had come in and taken it away a few days ago. Now his water and food were delivered in Styrofoam blows.
In any other case of self mutilation, the person would have long since been restrained. However, this place was not a mental ward, nor would Hidan die from these actions. Unknown to him, the White Coats were watching through the one-way window, or the "black mirror". They found these proceedings fascinating and would do nothing to stop them entirely. Hidan was an interesting captive.
They had run test after test on his blood, it rejuvenated every time. It was an amazing sight to whiteness. Also, they oftentimes mixed in small amounts of odorless tasteless poisons into the meals they served him, every time the poison was neutralized by his system. The scientists were in awe at his body's ability to evade death. Toxins and dismemberment couldn't kill him. Even after charring a hunk of his flesh, his body was still unable to reattach and return the skin to its normal state. It was amazing.
They planed on freezing his body next; in negative temperatures would his heart still manage to beat? What about water, he would certainly survive having his lungs flooded, but what reaction would his body have otherwise? There were so many possibilities, so many experiments to run. For now however, the scientists were content to monitor the strange behavior of their captive. They watched the bizarre ceremonies he preformed to a long forgotten pagan god.
So, Hidan sat in his isolated room, performing his ritual for eyes he had no knowledge of. This would have proceeded, perhaps indefinitely, for the White Coats had thought of nearly everything to keep their subject inside, but they had only thought briefly of external forces outside the controlled environment. Because they believe that no one, save for themselves, knew about their captive.
Hidan's fingers paused half way through a stroke as he heard a sound outside. He'd heard this sound before. It was loud, deafening, and very familiar. Turing his head toward the door, Hidan stared at it quizzically.
---
The young man stepped through the still smoldering door he'd blown in and over the bodies of guards that littered the ground. They had all been caught in the blast. A line of chunky red spray ringed the doorway, beautiful; the prefect way to make an entrance.
Pulling back a stray strand of hair, the terrorist examined the work of his latest creation. Idly, he wondered how it felt to be apart of the intense explosion, how lucky those guards had been to experience art like his in their final moments. However, he didn't stay long, more were sure to arrive, best be on his way.
Quickly, he was off moving speedily into the underbelly of the base. Running through the maze like halls briskly, the young man read the signs that raced by. Never before had they been ordered to openly attack a Laboratory, this must be a very special recruit if their leader was willing to go this far. The newbie had better be worth all this trouble, their flight here had been costly, and the self-proclaimed "accountant" of their organization wasn't pleased.
Room 237.
The young man stopped abruptly, almost skidding past the room. He eyed the door closely. There was a good locking mechanism in place; he'd have to break through that. The door was probably well imbedded too; the hinges weren't visible, they were hidden behind the metal exterior.
Rummaging through his pockets, he pulled out five small explosives. Gently he activated each by pressing their center. When live, each sprouted three spinally legs on each side that grappled them to the door. He applied one to each corner and one where the heavy-duty lock met the wall.
He knocked once on the cold metal and called, trying to remember his foreign language education he spoke, "Hey, stand back." and his Maître had said he was too much of an idiot to learn Japanese.
He heard a faint, "What?" from the other side of the door before distancing himself from the live explosives. Pressing the small detonator in his pocket, he watched the spider-like bombs burst.
---
Hidan stared at the door incredulously,
"Hey, stand back." What was that supposed to mean? Curiously, he started to climb to his feet. However, the sudden blast made Hidan cry out in surprise and stumble. Losing his balance, he fell backwards awkwardly, but he didn't make any move to get back up.
Tongues of flame lapped around the door frame briefly, singeing the blood painted doorframe on the inside. The fire died back almost instantaneously, but ropes of smoke began to creep in, like probing fingers, they filled the room with a bitter odor, sulfur.
"What the hell!" He cried, breathing in the awful smell.
The pitter-patter of running feet came and the door buckled under the force of being hit, the door was being kicked down. Now, Hidan moved. Instinctively, he pulled himself unto a crouch, ready to attack the oncoming enemy.
The metal door screeched loose from its frame and sparks flew. It fell forward and clattered into the room. The force of the fall pushed the acidic cloud further into the room, effectively blocking everything from sight. Eyes stinging from the foul stench, Hidan tried not to breath.
"I told you, stand back." It was the same voice, the person spoke in a heavily accented tone.
Slowly, the wispy screen of smoke began to subside. The remaining tendrils danced through the air, creating lazy patterns. They formed a cloudy outline of a person. The figure took at few bold steps into the blood painted chamber. The broken door creaked and rattled under their weight.
"Who the hell are you?" Hidan growled, trying to see the odd person through watery eyes.
The obscured figure fanned away the last of the weaving haze. Hidan's jaw slacked in disbelief, but the young man only smiled back at him. His uncovered blue eye glittered, watching brightly to see if Hidan made any sudden movements.
It was as if Hidan was seeing a ghost, much like the one from earlier beside The Pit. This one however, wasn't just a figment; this one was flesh and blood. The young blond haired man, who looked suspiciously like a young woman, wasn't going to disappear.
"You're savior, un." The young man paused and looked behind him briefly, greeting someone. "Ah..." Hidan watched, utterly confused as the young man began to speak again. The blond's lips moved, but Hidan couldn't understand a word he said this time, it was all gibberish.
A bowed figure shuffled into view behind the blond; they moved in such a disjointed manner, as if they were merely a lumbering shell. The man's black cloak hung around him, his empty sleeves swayed with each movement. The hunched back's glazed glare fell onto Hidan, the strange man never once blinked.
From were he was, Hidan couldn't see the dark red stains splattered across the hunchback's clothes. He had no idea that the strange man had just returned from destroying the Laboratory; he'd smashed the vials filled with Hidan's blood, burned the written records, and had slaughtered the personal. The scientist's database, filled to the brim with knowledge was being eaten away thanks to a skilled hacker working for them. To the scientific community, Hidan was now just an unmade discovery. Once again, Hidan was unknown to a modern mankind that he himself didn't even know existed.
Hidan's eyes frantically switched between the two faces until he felt dizzy and disoriented. So familiar, oh so familiar. Both of them were so memorable. They were only missing something. He looked at their clothing, it was plain and black, that wasn't right; there clothes were supposed to be something else, something different.
"What the fuck is going on here?" Hidan bellowed; the acute confusion made him aggravated.
The young man looked at him, slightly surprised by Hinda's outburst, but did nothing. A long guttural sound then followed, answering Hidan. The voice was gruff and deep; it belonged to the hunched man; he was speaking the same rubbish the young blond was.
Before Hidan could think properly, the dark flap covering the rest of the crooked man's face fluttered. For a split-second he could see beneath the mask. Hidan watched as the three separate sets of jaws moved, spewing small glittering fragments that imbedded themselves deep into his neck. The projectiles stung on contact.
Hidan sprung to his feet as the pain hit, forced back into reality. He ripped the things out of his neck, they were needles. More fucking needles. He was sick of these damn things. He threw them aside, ignoring the burning sensation that raced down his neck, and lunched himself at the young man. Hidan threw his fist towards blonde's face, trying to quickly go through him and to the hunchback behind him.
However, his punch was sloppy and was easily ducked. Hidan's legs were kicked out from under him suddenly. Toppling backwards, his head smashed onto the floor. The world was spinning. The blond's face hovered over him, blurry and fuzzy, his lips moved, but Hidan couldn't understand him.
The blond man looked down at him with a look of mocking pity. Hidan gave him a heated glare. He tried to swat at the man's face, but his arm was too heavy and fell limply to his side. Hidan's neck burned, his blood boiled, and his veins throbbed with a dry pain. The needles had been laced with something, shit.
"You're assholes, both of ya." He muttered unintelligently, before passing out into a feverish sleep.
---
"What did you do zu 'im Maître?" The young man asked, watching their target's face become washed-out and sickly. The poison must have been extremely potent to affect the man so quickly. "We were meant zu capture 'im, not kill 'im, un."
"So vhat?" The elder challenged darkly. The way he figured it, a few needles wouldn't kill their target, not after what their leader had said about him. If he could survive complete dismemberment, a little poison would be easy to live through. "Pick him up, you've vasted enough time." And with that, the hunched back began to shuffle away.
The young blond rolled his eyes. "You've wasted enough zime, un." He mimicked his Maître poorly.
Giving a sigh, he looked down at the unconscious man. He was going to be a challenge to carry.