Approximately a month? Much quicker than before :) I received about 20+ reviews, so I won't be answering all of them, but thank you for all that took the time to review and give their opinion ! I'll be reentering a period of exam soon, so you know what to expect, but I still try to write a bit everyday.
Kitty Russ: I'm sorry ! I deleted your last comment by mistake !
AmericasHeroes: wow, you're a patient person, I appreciate. Take a seat pal.
Beawolf's Pen: nah, he's already cray-cray, just at another level.
DeadpoolLovesTacos: thanks pal :)
kiarainu: dios mios ! You're precious !
Blossom Sanderson98: weeeeeeh thank you !
YMC0218: girl ! 'tis for you !
TheOnyxDragon12: haha, well here's a train coming for you :)
NatYChips: I wonder how much more creepy I can make him be O.O
NO BETA !
Characters are not mine.
"That's our stop." Merrick said in a somber tone. He was slightly bent over the open door of the chopper, surveying the green environment carefully, his mask pulled down around his neck. Behind him was an elite team of soldiers from the main branch of the army, all prepared for a rescue mission.
"Finally." I muttered quietly to myself, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. I stood apart of the others, holding my father's mask in my hand; the one Logan wore after his death. It's been cleaned, but the memories still lingered, like a haunting reminder that would never disappear. I clenched the fabric between my fingers as anger rose into me at the memory of the last painful months; so much has happened that I could hardly understand why I haven't been put on medical leave. At that time, I was the perfect candidate for a mental asylum.
"Listen up." Merrick caught everyone's attention, and they all straightened up in their seats. "This is no joke. I believe you all know who we're going up against, and that he mustn't be taken lightly." He spoke in a sturdy voice, gaze hard and unrelenting. "This is a rescue mission, as such, we won't take unnecessary risks." He instructed as he looked at me pointedly from the corner of his eye.
"Any behavior that doesn't suit the situation will be sanctioned." And this was directly aimed at me. "Everyone keeps a cool head, and follows the plan. We don't exactly know the structure of the building, so we'll have to be cautious."
As he finished giving his directives, he pulled his mask up over his nose and checked his radio; the soldiers did the same in perfect silence. Meanwhile, the chopper gradually descended on an open clearing, a few miles into the rainforest. According to the intel we received, the location was at approximately seventeen miles from our current position, deep into the forest and towards Venezuela. It was quite a distance, especially in unknown territory where traps could be laid.
I came out last as the chopper's propellers kept rotating at full speed, preparing to leave once more; it won't come back until all was over. I noticed Merrick approaching me, his rifle propped in his arms like a soldier would usually carry it.
"Don't do anything stupid Hesh." He whispered roughly, but I knew he meant well. "We don't know what we'll find." He left the sentence hanging, but the message was clear. After weeks of captivity, I should be expecting the worst. However, I could hardly think of anything worse than Logan's return. Thus, I couldn't even begin to imagine what Keegan's state would be like. This must be the reason why Merrick was so tense when I asked him about Rorke; he himself didn't know what to expect. He probably feared as much as I did.
But that was something neither of us could show, for the sake of succeeding the mission.
We started towards the deeper recesses of the forest, which resembled more a jungle, each of us spread out to cover the largest perimeter possible. As we advanced, the foliage got thicker, and wild animals roamed around the trees, but they were mostly inoffensive. The air was humid and hot, beads of sweat already beginning to gather on my skin, making my clothes stick and my hands slippery.
This will be a long march.
Blood.
Eyes closed, I tried to imagine the scene that will happen shortly… and indeed I will make sure to tint the ground red. With controlled trepidation, I steadily took out an assortment of knives of varying sizes, nippers and ropes. Feeling the need to be artistic, I specially prepared tubes of acid and a set of extremely sharp needles. This was only a foretaste of what I could actually do, how evil and mean-spirited I could turn out to be.
This was just to take out my anger, a little practice before the real deal. My main goal lied ahead, coming straight for me in this instant; and his pain will be the worst, so unbearable and excruciating that he would have no choice but to beg. I want to hear him plead for his life like the dog he is, no better than any other animal. I want to feel the hatred radiating from him; I need to see the utter destruction of his mind and soul, a man turned into an insignificant pile of dust.
"Where are they?" I talked into the radio that lay on my desk. Everything was done on purpose, as it was time to lure the enemy out into the open. The footprints that remained barely disguised on the ground and the accidental leak of information … all has been planned.
"On their way, sir." Ramirez answered, still infiltrated within their ranks. How Merrick didn't notice was beyond my comprehension, but that just proved how well he blended himself in. A true expert in social sciences and a master of seduction he was, the perfect weapon to destroy from within.
"Good. Lure him away from the rest of the group when they arrive." I have something for you.
"Yes, sir." Then the line went off. He couldn't say much if he wanted to remain undetected. Now the trap was set and unavoidabl;, the Ghosts will soon no longer exist.
I checked the time; past five. The sun was slowly retiring for the day, leaving room for dusk, and soon nightfall on an unknown territory. It was to my advantage, unless one of them knew how to navigate in a jungle during nighttime, they were in trouble. This gave me ample time to finish off those two rats.
I stood up and grabbed all my utensils, swiftly making my way to their joint cell. Once the door was unlocked, I was greeted with a view that filled me with sadistic glee.
"Ah, so you've finally woken up." I headed straight for Logan and grabbed his face in my large palm. "You missed all the fun, boy. What a shame." He didn't seem that vigorous anymore… I won't be starting with him then. Turning to face Keegan, I expected to be met with more ardor. I was sadly disappointed.
"I expected a better reaction, especially from someone like you." It seemed like the fire was out, but I knew better than to trust a defeated soldier on the verge of a nervous breakdown; they tended to act insane. "Are you not well, my friend?" He barely flinched, but it was enough; it meant he was still in there and still reacted to what I told him. There was still room for damage.
In a slow fashion, I straightened up and made my way to the door, where I left my tools beside it. I randomly picked out one -a pair of nippers- and examined it carefully, thinking of ways I could apply the most pain with minimum effort.
"You know, I could actually help you out there, since your desire of self-destruction hasn't receded over time." I approached him, masking my glee with a stern mask of indifference; however, I kept an eye on the younger one. Keegan didn't respond.
"You're awfully quiet for a person of your temperament." His head remained bowed, his stance screamed renouncement; and yet, something felt off. I eyed him an instant before seizing a piece of his skin with the nippers, slowly twisting and tearing the tissue away. He barely grunted. I frowned at the unusual lack of reaction.
There was supposed to be more of that. He was still alert, therefore he should still be responding to physical pain. I couldn't see his face, but the outline of his jaw was visible and tensed at such an extent that his muscles twitched under the pressure.
So he was suppressing everything. But for how long?
With a snap of the wrist, the skin came off messily, a perfect piece of flesh that dangled strangely from the tool. Keegan hissed lowly.
"You've accustomed me to more vocal responses. What happened to your voice, dear?" His arm muscles quivered at the nickname. "Come on, don't force me to be unnecessarily violent." At this, he fiercely glared in my direction, conveying massive amounts of hatred and disgust through only his eyes.
Brusquely, I grabbed his head, forcing it into the ground, then sharply pulling it back, craning his neck in a painful angle. A few cracks resounded loud in my ears; Keegan seemed to be struggling against the ache, wrinkles appearing around his eyes and his mouth pulled into a thin line.
"You won't be able to look at me like that for long." I told him in a frigid voice, tightening my grip on his hair and twisting it to the side.
Despite the pain, he looked at me straight in the eyes, strong with determination. "Fuck you."
Without a thought, I plunged the sharp end of the nippers into his left pectoral muscle, swiftly bending it and opening it inside his body, ripping the tissue beneath in a reverberating snap that was too low to hear, but powerful enough to be felt as paralyzing.
He cried out, and it was exquisite; like the finest of meals for my senses. And suddenly, in that instant, my body tuned to his; an invisible connection that allowed me to somehow know where to press to hurt him the most. I never felt this way with any of the others before, not even Elias with whom I was closest to. It almost troubled me to feel this, especially at that time.
You're really unique.
I let him go and watched him crumple to the ground, clutching the tool and trying to remove it, without much success. Unless he wanted to cause more damage to his body, or use the nippers as a weapon that he couldn't possibly handle.
"That mouth of yours will get you killed faster than anticipated." Momentarily, I checked Logan's position, before turning my gaze back to the piece of crap lying on the floor. "But that's what you want, right?"
"Like you haven't planned to do just that." He was still facing the floor, and his voice came out strained and taut as a bow, heavy with weeks of captivity.
"You won't be here long enough to see your dear teammates save you." I told him icily, and he seemed to freeze at my words. "Oh, you didn't know? They're coming for you." Logan appeared to be regaining hope, if only partially, but I wouldn't let him have that kind of luxury.
"But you won't be alive to see them die, both of you." Just then, I brutally kicked Logan out of commission; even though he was interesting, I needed to concentrate on this one first, much harder to bring down and yet so close to breaking. He hardly reacted, only sparing a quick glance to his once again fallen comrade.
"You're not going to help him? That's what you usually try to do in this sort of situation."
"You won't kill him." He said faintly. I scowled at him.
"And why is that?" So that was the strange feeling I had. Damn nuisance.
"You think… I didn't notice the way… you looked at… him?" The nippers had finally lodged themselves deep enough to be impossible to remove without medical help. His words slightly alarmed me, but I remained silent, observing him closely.
"Doesn't he… remind you… of yourself?" Now this unsettled me more than I would like to admit. I feigned ignorance and went straight for the syringe, filled with acid. He visibly stiffened.
"Feeling like shutting up now? Don't try to act smart." But he decidedly hit a nerve; how he deduced this, I didn't know, and I won't ever.
"You were ready… to do anything… for others. Just like him. Just like… the rest of us." I swiftly grabbed him by the throat and pressed him firmly against the wall.
"You're on your way to an early death." And here I wanted it to last longer, but this guy needed to die. His breath hitched.
"Killing him… would be… like killing a part of yourself." The end of his sentence was rushed, air leaving his lungs at a fast pace. "But you don't want to die." His face reddened as my hands squeezed tighter. "You wanted to survive, but couldn't."
"And whose fault is that exactly? Oh right, you weren't there, you never we-" He cut me off, so slickly it sounded unreal from such a battered person.
"He wants to survive, but I don't." My hand practically crushed the syringe, but fortunately it held on. His eyes were starting to water, his hands scrambled desperately on my forearms, yet he still had the gall to keep going on. He knew he would die. And I would be truly elated to oblige in his desire.
"You have… interest… won't… on, because… dead." His words lost sense, his face now turning white. I smiled cruelly at him, feeling his pulse dying and becoming irregular under my fingers.
"We're all already dead. I'm just sparing you the pain of carrying on." I did not release him, even though it wasn't necessary to hold him; I wanted to feel him give up his body to death, go limp and finally be gone. Finally. Finally.
"You'll kill yourself." So faint I could barely hear it… it was a mental bombshell.
The syringe disappeared.
Is my narration satisfying? Reviews accepted !
