Another short one... sorry.
Reality Check XI
Fragment of Torchwood Alien Report- 9743645765678
Level 5 – Known Hostile
The Trickster
Compiled By SJSmith
Note from IJones
Thank you Miss Smith. Your help is much appreciated. If Torchwood can help you in any way we'd be very pleased to.
Ps. send my thanks to Luke. The diagrams were amazing.
The Trickster
Planet of Origin – Unknown
Last Seen - 17/11/08
Known associates - the Graske (see file 123235456678)
The Trickster is a being who feeds on chaos to survive. Will do anything to survive. Do not…
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Jack could never get used to that, the amazing overwhelming surge inside of him. Every nerve burnt, in a good way. His skin tingled like someone had sent an electric shock. Jack could never get used to the sensation of being brought back to life.
He took gluttonous, needy gasp of air. The slight aftermath of pain itched in his leg. But this wasn't as troublesome as the pain in his head. The Captain wrapped his arms round his head, like a child. Words and phrases crowded his head.
His memories were blotchy cubist paintings. Colors and shades standing out boldly, people like uninteresting stick men. He remembered Ianto and Gwen. There presence had burnt his retina; they were stuck like smudges on a photograph in his mind. It was like a nightmare he couldn't shift. A nightmare that seemed so real when seeing it but in the harsh common sense of reality was almost laughable.
Slowly realization dawned on Jack. The realization he'd been tricked was worse than any physical agony that he'd lived through. Because he may not be in pain, but his team, his friends were.
Jack was so angry his black cloud obliterated any other feeling. But soon he realized two things. One, something had taken a bloody bite out of his leg. Two, Myfanawy was sitting in the gantry above him as if waiting for something.
Jack could tell the mood of the Torchwood guard dog quite well now. He remembered the first time Ianto had fed the giant beast. The cool way she'd observed the imperceptible shaking of Ianto's knees as the Welshman tried to interest her in the bucket of cod before her.
Myfanawy glanced down at him like that now. As if bored by humans already and was inspecting something more fascinating. She was a very ugly angel at the top of the Christmas tree. Her dark leathery skin almost blended into the steel and light décor of the Hub.
Jack groaned as he finally inspected his leg. His remembrance of the pain was like a story he'd been told long ago by a close friend. It didn't affect him. The gash in his leg was bloody, but rapidly healing. It had Myfanawy's autograph all over it. Jack would have almost said she looked smug.
"Why did you do that?" Jack asked. He expected no answer. Which was just as well because he didn't get one.
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good? bad? what do you think.