Hello! Yes, I'm still here! I promise I'm trying my hardest to keep up with this story, although I write at a snail's pace.
Enjoy :D
Chapter 10: Dangerous is a rushing mind
She stopped for a moment, placing her right hand on the long wooden table next to her to keep balanced as she silently gasped for air, feeling that she would explode if she went on any more.
Her lungs needed more air, more and more, and now. More than the amount she was taking in, and fast. But as much as her body screamed for it, Dangler would not allow it. She would not allow herself to gasp like a beached fish, to cough in order to expel the dust from her lungs. That would be showing weakness, which was, of course, unacceptable.
In her left hand was a favorite toy of hers – a whip, nine feet long, the tail of it split into nine separate stingers of rope, each with a blood-encrusted fishhook on the end. She had quite effectively destroyed the bodies of many individuals with this, each gore-splattered memory sending a surge of euphoria through her wasted body.
Yes, her body. Her wasted body, her weak body.
Her hideous body, with the skeleton that was supposed to be inside of the flesh straining to break free, and judging from the looks, it was close to succeeding.
The body was a vessel and nothing more, yes, of course, she thought, but a damaged vessel is no good.
She cursed herself for bringing on the weakness, the addiction, the madness that had infected her like a plague, that had brought her suddenly crashing down at an astonishing speed.
The higher you are, the harder you fall, you fall and fall and fall and fall…
And she decided to torment herself a little more, and look forwards again.
Yes, she was in that room again, number two on the right hand side, again, but this time, she swore, it would be different indeed. Today was an extraordinary day, it was the day she would begin the physical breaking. She had gone down the stairs to the dimmed hallway of stone and the screams that she could still hear, much to her enjoyment, with a spring in her step, a spring that made her feel like she could fly away, fly away and be free.
She was excited, excited to be free again, even if it wasn't real, even if it was just to her, even if it would all just go away again and she would end up right back, if not below, where she had started.
It had been planned out, fantasized over, three days beforehand. She would not shatter him, no, that would end it too fast. Instead, she would tap, flick, knock, like a bored child does to a china teacup, not enough to break it, but with just enough force to create a small, tiny crack. It's just a small crack, and as long as you are not discovered, you did not do it. But that crack would grow. It would spider out on its own, as that was the nature of those types of fractures, and from then on, it would be forever vulnerable; it would give in to the slightest force.
That is what she intended to do to him, it was her plan, it was his fate. There was no need to force fear upon him, she would only make way for it.
It would possess him on its own.
Dangler reached out a hand and trailed her fingers across the porcelain face of the Armada Captain, who was standing chained to the wall in front of her. One touch, that's all it took to make his entire body freeze stiff, unable to move. Half of her work was already done, as she could clearly see.
Well, progress is good!
And she threw back her head and laughed, leaning back on the wobbling table and gazing at the ceiling in astonishment as if she had just realized that she was not dreaming, this was real.
"It's…it's going to work this time! I really think so! I'm going to have success!"
Servus saw the wicked whip coming towards him and he did not feel, he did not attempt to escape. His chances had been taken away, what else could happen?
The rip of fabric and a metallic tearing sound informed him that his torment was nowhere near over, that there would be much, much more to come.
RED ALERT! RED ALERT! RED ALERT! It screamed in his system, yet his frame dismissed it, refused it. He would not move, he could not move. His wired instincts were trapped within his unable body and it rushed around at a dizzying speed, trying to break out from the cage of the undefined.
Servus shook slightly and his legs gave out, his frame now only held up by the iron manacles and chains that Dangler had fastened to his arms. She dropped the whip and curled both hands around his neck, enjoying the small, barely there, yet constant tremors that ran through his body. It was not much of an external reaction, but then again, it was an external reaction, something that these soldiers had been programmed never to show. It must have taken something powerful, she thought, to cause it.
I'm powerful!
Did you hear THAT?! Me! I'm powerful!
"Oh, look at you…"she said, her eyes growing cloudy and wandering, the way it always did when she lost herself to her thoughts. "I've made you afraid, haven't I? You just don't want me to see it."
This made her sad.
"Why won't you let me see, Captain…? I've worked so hard…haven't I?" She turned one of her hands over, the back of her hand slowly caressing the white skin-like metal of his throat.
"I put in…so much effort. I did it to get…my results."
And he could feel it, he could feel her pulse quicken alarmingly.
Her grip turned harsh then, and she squeezed his throat like a rabid boa constrictor.
"MY RESULTS! I CAUSED THIS! I CREATED THIS! THIS IS MY WORK!" The chains rattled as she screeched, as she shook him roughly, bringing his body close to hers and then slamming him against the wall, again and again and again. She snatched up the whip and raised it high.
"MINE! MINE! MINE!" It was brought down again-"MINE!" and again-"MINE!" and again.
The crazed witchdoctor dropped to her knees then, gasping for breath, the torturous instrument slipping from her hands. Her hands, coated in a splattered crimson liquid.
"Ah…you bleed…just like the other one…" And she looked up at Servus, his uniform torn in several areas on his sides, numerous scratches littering the porcelain, skin-like material. His chest rose and fell rapidly, as if he was hyperventilating.
Dangler knew what this was. It was their survival function, something used as a last resort to prevent internal combustion. As perfect as they seemed, the Armada clockworks had one major flaw-a lack of hydraulics, which lead to overheating and combustion in the case of overload. This was to expel the heat, to prevent their own destruction.
You're not used to processing pain and fear, are you? Such complicated emotions. You're struggling. He struggled too. He bled as well. But just like him, you'll remain here and you'll remember. It's like a scar, isn't it? It will NEVER leave.
She used the table to pull herself back to her feet, her arms waving like windmills. Her vision was hazy, blurry, spinning. It was hard to stand.
"How could I…break something so…so…perfect…again…"
The world turned upside down and Dangler collapsed on the bloodstained floor.
*Hoping and praying for more snow days so that I have more time to work on this*
Review!
-Severina