Chapter 10: Torture
Sonic's mouth hung open as Julie's cheeks burned like an inferno. Carter's grin only grew from their response, and an uncomfortable pause followed his suggestion. They stood there, wordless and shocked, until finally, Sonic made a reply.
"But- but it's much too soon! I mean... you have to be sure about these things!" Sonic explained, while glancing nervously at Julie.
"And you're not sure?" Carter responded, while wringing his hands absently. Julie's blush had not subsided in the slightest, and she stood there in shocked silence, staring at him.
"It takes more thought than that! Don't you know the Regime will use it against us if they find out?"
"So let them make you afraid. Let them rule your lives. Just don't come crying to me."
"You're nuts! It's not that simple. There's kids to worry about. You could never survive a pregnancy down here!" Sonic was unaware, but the direction the conversation was taking was making Julie intensely uncomfortable. Carter realized this, and stood silent for a moment in thought.
"Don't let time pass you by."
"Don't lose any sleep over it," Sonic retorted. For once, Carter looked somewhat surprised by the abrasive comeback, and lowered his eyes to the ground. Sadness began to brim within the corners of his eyelids, and it seemed the very world was sombre.
"I just don't want you to make he same mistakes I did..." With no more than this as a goodbye, Carter slipped away into the darkness, leaving his haunting words echoing as the only reminder that he had ever been there at all.
* * * * *
Stevie squinted down in frustration at the map, as he brought down a pencil to scribble on it. Gathered silently around him was a small mob of officers, all peering down expectantly at the map, as if entranced by it.
The rebel leader was at that very moment, drawing out the battle plans that were to be used in the next attack. In the aftermath of the Battle of Roujin, the rebels had hid in the outskirts of the city and slowly chipped away at their enemy, never facing the Regime directly, but never idle against it.
Many a soldier had fallen before invisible snipers; slipping through the brush as undetectable as specters. There had been warehouse raids, sabotage, anything imaginable to weaken the Regime's hold on Station Square. But these were merely the preparatory operations. Everything so far was but a prelude to the symphony that was to come.
The greying ferret scratched out a line, and every man in the clump gave a half nod, as if taking mental note of the new line. The quiet hypnotism of the map was interrupted as Nathan came into the clearing, his chest heaving and eyes wide.
Stevie looked up in concern and curiosity, laying his pencil down to free his hands. After taking a moment to catch his breath, Nathan stomped over to stare down at his superior.
"What's the latest Nathan?" Stevie asked distantly, a cloudy emptiness in his eyes.
"They're getting harder to fool. We've been here too long, they're expecting us," The enormous black rebel panted, while wiping sweat from his brow.
"Perfect. Then everything is proceeding exactly as I hoped."
"Isn't it bad if they know we're coming?" Nathan asked in surprise, as he cocked an eyebrow.
"Ah, but they don't know we're coming. They know we're here. And they'll expect us to stay here. But what they won't expect is for us to attack the Capital again." Nathan sighed and shook his head, the dog tags from his latest kills stained with blood and jingling in his hand.
"This is taking far too long. Who knows what's happened by now..." Nathan drawled worriedly.
"Don't you fret. We'll make our attack soon enough. And when we do, that bastard will wish he'd never become king!" Stevie smirked and glanced around at his officers to nods of agreement. Nathan remained quiet a moment, and shifted uncomfortably at a chilling breeze. On the horizon a line of dark clouds, stretching as far as the eye could see brewed. A storm was coming.
"Very well. But let me tell you one thing Stevie. I'm not leaving that city without Julie and Sonic in tow. And nothing you say will change that." Nathan put his foot down, literally as well as figuratively, and Stevie only smiled weakly in response.
"You and me both. But I've got some other scores to settle."
* * * * *
Shadow sat in his throne and sulked. Any of his attendants would've told that he was in a particularly foul mood today; refusing even an audience with his only son. His generals would tell you that he had a reason to be furious.
After the attack on Roujin, his troops had been utterly incapable of ensnaring the rebels responsible. On top of that, his forces had been continuously assailed by hit and run attacks.
He had sent out countless numbers of troops, but no matter how many he sent, the rebels would evade them, send them back limping or dead, and continue their rampage.
Even more disturbing was the fact that after every attack, every loss, he received a message from the Rebellion. They were untraceable, and every one's contents were the same simple message: "check."
He had asked every expert there was, but none had any insights as to the meaning of the cryptic messages. It was time for some answers. It was time for him to be in control again.
"Guard, bring Dr. Amsel to me immediately." The soldier nodded, and hurriedly left to complete his duty.
The dark king continued to brood from his massive throne while he waited for the doctor to arrive. The darkness of the room ensheathed him like a velvety blanket, and his eyes flicked around sporadically.
Light spilled into the room as a door hissed open. The nefarious doctor, covered in blood from mid-operation, approached the throne and bowed deeply and ceremoniously.
"For what purpose do you summon your unworthy servant, your Grace?"
"It is time," the King replied without moving anything but his lips, which barely even quivered.
"Already?" Amsel asked in genuine surprise.
"It is long overdue." There was silence, as Amsel retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped a residual drop of blood off his monocle.
"What will General Barett think?" Shadow growled in irritation at the mention of the general; causing Amsel to falter for a moment.
"Barett is quickly losing my favor. He nearly lost control of Block 4. A prisoner uprising now would be disastrous. He is treading in stormy waters."
"So then, we won't include him?" Amsel seemed pleased that his master held Barett in such low esteem, seeing it as a chance for his advancement.
"Of course not. Why share the fun?" Shadow grinned sadistically, while clenching his hands into fists. "I have some other business to attend to first. You go on ahead, and I'll meet you there."
The dark king's lips twisted into a devilish grin, and Amsel nodded. After rendering a salute, the doctor turned and left, leaving the King in his darkness.
After a moment, Shadow stood and left through a different way.
* * * * *
"Em, well. Are you entirely sure you want to know?" Asked the thin little man with perfectly circular glasses that shimmered like dual moons.
The King sighed in irritation, and scowled at his attendant.
"If I hadn't wanted to know, I wouldn't have asked you. Tell me what it means immediately," Shadow snarled irritably. His psychiatrist squirmed uncomfortably, and sighed deeply.
"You won't like this. You tell me that in your dream, you were being chased by what seemed to be a monstrous version of yourself," the doctor he had asked to interpret his earlier nightmare began. The King nodded, and began to tap his foot. The spectacled man decided to hurry.
"You also told me that the beastly you devoured not just you but someone else. Was it someone you really knew, or a fictitious person?"
"I used to know her," Shadow growled.
"So she's dead then. What were the circumstances surrounding her death?" he asked, without knowing he was referring to Rouge.
"Suicide." Shadow breathed this one word quietly, almost as if it pained him to even say it. His eyes slowly closed as he rubbed his temples; a headache was beginning to flare in his skull.
"From this I can only guess one thing. For some reason, you subconsciously blame yourself for her death, and therefore, the monstrous you killed her in your dream. Would you mind elaborating more on the subject?" The dream therapist said as he jotted down notes on a pad.
"She... she said... I can't."
"Excuse me sire?" he asked as he looked up from his notes in surprise. There before him, was the mighty, heartless king, his eyes brimming with tears.
"She couldn't stand me! She said that it was better to die than live with me! I drove her to her death!" Shadow screamed as he glared angrily at the psychiatrist.
"Now sire, you mustn't be so hard on yourself. She may have had underlying trauma and been trying to blame you for it. Any number of things could have been going on." From his thoughtful and truthful answers, it was obvious that the therapist genuinely wanted to help Shadow, really wanted him to be happy.
"Leave me." The dark king commanded. The psychologist didn't move. "Get out of my sight!"
"The Prince, is he hers?" He asked sadly, while stepping towards the sobbing dictator.
"Begone!" Shadow surged out of his chair, his nostrils flaring in rage.
"It was her choice, not yours. You-" the psychiatrist was silenced as an iron grip coiled around his throat, choking the air out of him and ending his sentence.
"I didn't kill her I tell you! I loved her!" The King bellowed as his hands tightened on the poor man's trachea. His victim only released a pained gasp in reply, as his eyes bulged out of their sockets.
"I know what is best! I know how to raise my own son!" Shadow's voice had risen to a desperate, animal scream, and the therapist convulsed one final time, and went limp. The King released the dead psychiatrist, and allowed his breathing to slow to a steady rhythm.
"Suicide," he whispered, as he left the body there and turned to slip away. He fled from his own darkness, by burying himself deeper in blood.
* * * * *
The Regime guard sighed as he squinted out at the horizon. His view was mostly blocked by trees, and all the recent rebel attacks had come from the opposite side of Station Square, so he couldn't help but wonder why he was here.
"Stupid. That's what it is. Just plain..." he drawled off before taking a draught of alcohol. The watch tower shuddered in the wind, but he was far too drunk to notice, and his partner was sleeping like the dead.
They did not notice the shadowy figure passing through the undergrowth, did not anticipate his approach. Nathan stole up to the side of the tower, hesitating a moment to make sure he had not been seen. When the guards made no sound, he planted a bomb on the side of the tower, and hurried past.
His usual heavy machine gun was discarded in favor of a silenced sniper rifle, and he was completely covered from head to toe in camouflage. Taking cover behind a wall, he waited in silence as three soldiers passed by on patrol.
As soon as they passed, he continued on, darting inside the open door of a warehouse, and planting several of his explosives on the weapons store inside. Smirking at the damage that was about to be done to the Regime, he exited the building and moved on to his next target.
Ducking around corners and hiding in shadows, he avoided all detection from the unsuspecting, but admittedly numerous guards. Station Square's main advantage is that it was connected to practically the rest of the major cities in the continent by rail. The majority of the Regime's troops maneuvers were made that way, and the city had practically grown dependent on its rail system.
Nathan was now in one of the Regime's outlying train stations, hoping to cripple their movements by sabotaging their transportation.
He bolted inside one of the trains, leaping into the engine car, gun at the ready. When he found it unoccupied, he breathed a sigh of relief, and planted several of the bombs on the engine. He held his breath as an officer passed and peeked into the car, but the soldier passed by the next second. He remained undiscovered.
Finally, he prepared for the last part of his mission. Coming up to a large red brick wall, he retrieved a can of white spray paint, and began to graffiti on the wall. When he was done, he snapped a photograph, and sent it as a message to the King. His work of art was a single word, whose meaning was soon to be unveiled.
'Check.'
Many such attacks had occurred over the last couple days, all with the same mysterious, if not slightly silly finale. Anything to get inside the King's paranoid head.
At that very moment, Knuckles was on his own mission, on the other side of Station Square. But Nathan had no time to think about that. Moving at incredible speed for his size, the rebel stole out of the facility and made for the dense foliage at the edge of the clearing.
No sooner had he dived into the greenery than he was grinning in expectation of the imminent explosion.
"Pig head, this is Mack truck, come in Pig head," his radio crackled quietly.
"This is pig head. The deliveries have all been made, and light is green for go," he replied in a hushed tone.
"Then you may proceed with the fireworks at your own discretion. Mack truck out." Despite the fact that he wasn't talking to a person who could see him, Nathan nodded enthusiastically, and retrieved the detonator from his back pocket.
Disabling the safety, he positioned his thumb above the massive, red activation button.
"Hope they like the extra patriotic fireworks I left 'em. The bastards could use a little cheer," he snickered, as he rubbed his thumb on the button. He paused for a moment, thinking of something momentous, something memorable to say. He wracked his brain for the most compelling speeches he could remember, but only one thing seemed appropriate.
"There are some who call me... Tim!" he exclaimed as he pushed the button. At his command, explosions erupted from about a half dozen different locations across the station, causing flames to leap up into the air, clawing at the night sky. The screams of Regime flunkies were a sweet song in his ear, and he reveled in the music of destruction for a moment.
Then, when he was done taking in the full majesty of his work, he turned, and slipped into the forest, as undetectable as a phantom in the crisp night.
* * * * *
The night that Nathan had slipped into was also present above the Rebel base, casting the silvery glow of the moon off of the installation. The place the rebels had chosen to make their home was like a fortified city, with water towers, and massive warehouses, military facilities and suburbs alike.
Stevie had said many times that the Rebellion was as much a movement of social disobedience as civil disobedience, and the rebels had formed their own self contained society of about fifty thousand people
Absent from the base were any of the Regime's polluting smokestacks, and the base sat upon a jutting cliff, which fell down into a massive, beautiful lake. It was hidden from the Regime by the most advanced stealth technology in the world, which caused it to appear on a radar as nothing more than a big rock, not nearly close to its actual size.
That left the Regime to find the base by sending troop patrols looking for it, and often these patrols didn't even return. Even when they did, their searches were fruitless, the countryside was simply too big to allow them to find the rebel base, forcing the Regime to fight only on the defensive.
Which was Stevie's entire strategy. Deep in the glimmering city, a wheelchair bound fox tucked his children into bed, and with bowed head, spoke a prayer for the safety of his friends who were in the field, and for the captured Sonic.
If only he knew what the cerulean hero was about to suffer.
* * * * *
Sonic blinked as light suddenly came to the room, blinding him for a moment before he had a chance to adjust. The walls and ceiling of the room were completely bare, and white, making them blend into each other as if they were a never ending cycle of white.
The hero struggled to get up, and found that in typical cowardly Regime fashion, his ankles and wrists were clasped with extremely strong metal bands. No matter how hard he strained or squirmed, his bonds did not budge, did not creak, did not bend.
A door opened in one of the walls, despite the fact that it looked indistinguishable from the rest of the blank white. Through it walked the King, a spiked, metal crown on his head. Following directly behind him was Dr. Amsel, a devilish sneer contrasting sharply to Shadow's empty stare.
At the appearance of his old friend, Sonic became violent, and attacked the metal bands with all his might.
"You're wasting your strength. You don't even know what I intend to do," Shadow scoffed, as he stepped closer to his victim. Amsel rubbed his hands in anticipation, and watched closely.
"You have proved yourself a worthy enemy. And you may yet prove an even more valuable friend. So I will give you one chance. Cooperate completely. Join me, and you can have your heart's desire! Money, power, food, women could be yours for the taking. Anything you could possibly lust after," Shadow explained, while retaining his empty, neutral expression. Sonic glared hatefully at his former friend, and made his response.
"I would die before I would join your oppressive empire! You are evil itself!" he shouted, but Shadow seemed unmoved. The King released a long sigh, before turning to Amsel.
The doctor handed him a syringe, which was filled with a purple liquid. When he turned to Sonic, a smirk had formed at the edges of his lips.
"It is a pity. Perhaps I've misjudged you. In any case, I have some questions for you. Answers to those questions would be most helpful. We'll play a little game. The object of this game is to be alive at the end. I'll ask you a question, and for every wrong answer you give me, I'll torture you. However, each successive wrong answer will increase the degree of the agony, thanks to this pain inducing serum," The King explained. Sonic only glared in response.
"Very well then. Let's begin. Doctor, if you wouldn't mind." At his command, Amsel attached several electrodes to Sonic's body, and handed what appeared to be a remote control to Shadow. The serum was placed on a table next to Sonic's chair.
"First question. Where is the Master Emerald?" Shadow gripped Sonic's chin as if he was scolding a misbehaving child, and spoke softly yet sternly. Sonic did not answer.
Shadow pressed the button, and electricity flowed into Sonic through the electrodes, providing him a momentary jolt, before the pain ended.
"Wrong answer. I'll ask again. Where is the Master Emerald?" this time he spoke a little louder, and Sonic looked him in the eye.
"I don't know where it is!" he shouted, and the King snarled in anger.
"But you know who has it! Who took my Emerald?" Shadow growled, as Sonic shook his head. After a long moment of quiet, he increased the voltage, and delivered the hero another electric shock. This time, the pain was worse as a burning sensation flared in the back of his skull.
"Ah! Stop! Knuckles has it!" Sonic begged, and the moment he did, the electrocution ceased.
"Good. If you had shown more cooperation, I wouldn't have had to do that," Shadow sneered. "Next question.
"What is the location of the rebel base?" The air hung silent after Shadow's question, as sweat began to run down Sonic's brow.
"I'll ask nicely one more time. What is the location of the rebel base?" Shadow gripped Sonic's head now, forcing the hero to look into his vermillion eyes.
"Burn in hell." Shadow growled loudly, as he began to shake Sonic, and yelling at him.
"Do you understand that I'll kill you! I will kill you! Now tell me!" he stood back, and turned the dial on his control to the maximum voltage that would not kill his victim.
"Tell me!" Sonic screamed in pain as a torrent of lightning entered his body from the electrodes, burning his nerves, and tearing white hot pain through his skull. And yet, Sonic found he still had the ability to speak.
"Screw you!" he screamed amidst the agony, causing Shadow to seethe in fury. The flood of electrocution continued coursing through his body, searing his insides and burning him.
"You will tell me or you will die!" The King screamed, as Sonic continued to writhe like a rag doll being shaken. Tears began to stream down Sonic's face as the pain continued. But his tears were not for his own pain. They were for the loss of his old friend.
Truly, the Shadow he had once known was dead now. The being standing before him and demanding to know the location of the last vestige of hope in the world, so that he could destroy it, was the devil himself.
"You've lost. This is the best you can do? Put your money where your mouth is your majesty. Kill me!" Sonic screamed amidst the constant agony. Angrily Shadow picked up the serum designed to increase the victim's pain.
"You have one last chance. This serum will increase the amount of pain you can feel before dying by three times. Tell me the location of the rebel base, and I will kill you quickly." Shadow had regained his calm, as he held the syringe aloft over Sonic's arm.
"I'll never tell you. So why don't you just hit me with your best shot?" Shadow sighed, and looked down at the writhing Sonic, a look of disdain on his face.
"If your bravado weren't so foolish, it might be admirable. Your spirit remains unbroken. But everyone has their limits. Even the strongest of people must eventually fall. Everyone can be bought for a high enough price, and everyone has something they cannot possibly endure."
"You can't put a price on freedom, and I can endure any amount of pain in its name," Sonic cockily replied over the electrical flow. At this, Shadow plunged the syringe into Sonic's arm, as Amsel clapped in glee.
The moment the serum hit his blood stream, Sonic felt as if he'd been hit by a truck. The pain from the electricity had suddenly become so voracious he felt as if his insides were being torn out. It was as if he was set on fire, and then thrown into a meat grinder, all the while being jabbed with knives.
He screamed in agony and outrage, and had to bite his tongue to keep the knowledge from bursting from his lips. He bit himself so hard that he could taste the blood he had drawn, as the torrent began to cloud his senses.
"Do you not feel death approaching you even now? Can you endure this same torment every day for twenty years? I think not." Sonic prayed he would have the strength to endure until the blackness consumed him, until he lost consciousness, or died.
Either would be a reprieve. Meanwhile, miles away, preparations were mounting for the second attack on the Capital, the prison break that would free Sonic and Julie, and thousands of others from the Valley of Death.
But would they make it in time?