::End Of The Line – Reversal::
Go with your gut, she said.
Going with his gut had been the decision to drop the hood, mask and shirt- every clear signifier of Mysterion, expecting that he'd be out in the open after being called by his real name. Going with his gut had been the decision to bait and listen to Marie, despite knowing he had absolutely no leverage or choice one he'd stepped out into the open. Hell, even before then- so long as she had his family? He would have stood up on top of the machine and done a little jig if she demanded it, no priming noise necessary.
Not just Karen. His mom, dad, and even Kevin- he cared too much about them to gamble on Marie pulling a bluff.
Still, he knew a little more now.
He knew who Marie was protecting so desperately.
Herself.
Approaching the machine, he still felt like he was in the right place. It wasn't that he was unafraid- fuck no, he was terrified... but he could be scared out of his fucking mind and still feel certain that this was exactly where he needed to be.
If Marie had someone to do a test run on, it bought his saboteurs time. He didn't see either of them, but he was certain- Wendy and Stan were somewhere, and every extra second he gave them was a second where, despite this being a loop, he very desperately hoped for the future to change.
He wanted that coin he'd given to Alyssa to be a useless gesture. He didn't care if this monster fried him- permanently, even. Maybe he was taking her place, right now.
Maybe today was the day he died, and he didn't come back.
"Hold up."
He stopped, just short of taking the first step up to the platform. Marie was behind him, with a weapon trained on him. It looked too light to be a regular gun, and she obviously knew better than to kill him. It was probably a tranq, or something of the sort; something that would put him down if he made a run for it. Either way, he'd kept his hands up where she could see them; he had already accepted his face.
No need to make a fuss.
"No metals on the platform." She informed him. "Boots and belt, off. The shorts, too, if they have a metal button."
Not the context in which I ever expected Lyssie to ask me to strip.
Normally, he would have had himself a giggle at that... but something was off about Marie. He'd sensed it before. She was different than his Alyssa. Not so much in temper, he was certain that Marie would fly off the handle if provoked enough... but he suspected she was in a state of mind where it would take a lot less to provoke her than Lyssie. Maybe almost nothing at all.
The belt was dropped, the boots kicked away, and the shorts pulled off once he identified that yes, the button was metal. His sweat pants were of the third-hand sort, and too big for him; they sagged as he finished removing all the prohibited items.
"You may continue up. Sit in the chair, Kenny."
Even if she wasn't commanding him the same way she did the drones, she still spoke like she was. Enunciated, and carefully directed with other ears around who might catch a stray word if it wasn't clearly defined as for him.
He proceeded, up the textured steps that led from the bottom of the massive round platform to the top of the machine; an elevation that was even with the second floor of the lab; the rim with all the computer banks on it.
He'd stood here once before. He'd looked at the chair, and the plinth with the ball on top of it. It was more sinister to him, now that he saw it in full light. The blemishes on the ball, the shadows of hand-prints from dozens of victims, were more starkly visible against the shiny surface when full white light was coming down from above rather than the dim and flickering illumination he'd seen it in last. The parts that were no longer so reflective, that had grown matte with the faint memories of hands bound to the device, each layered over the one that came before.
He'd read too many files in a forgotten records room on the people some of these prints belonged to, and most of them were dead.
Sitting down, he felt like their ghosts were with him. Chill touches communicated through cold metal.
His heart beat a little faster against his ribs.
Somewhere below him, he heard something. Scuttling motion, like someone trying to sneak around below the edge of the machine's platform. It got his attention as Marie came up behind him, glancing down.
Briefly, he spied the top of a head, and straight, black hair.
Wendy. Fuck me she's right there.
Marie was going to be at the top of the platform in a moment; from there, all she'd have to do is look down and she'd see the person who didn't belong.
What was Wendy doing there? That's not anywhere near the computers.
Hardly the issue, she was, and if he didn't do something, she was going to be seen.
He rocketed back up to his feet, out of the chair.
"Actually, you know what? No, no, I'm not doing this- not until you tell me exactly what's going to happen."
Wendy had been holding her breath. Ike was crouched down with her; getting him free had been simple. He, like Stan, barely needed the set-up before he was chuckling his way back to free will and having control over himself... and while he'd had some choice words, he'd also gone quiet the moment Marie had clacked her way back into the main room.
She hadn't been able to hear the conversation she had with Kenny, but somehow it had ended up with him ascending to the top of the machine. Marie had to be directly behind him, and by the sound of things? About to move to the top.
Wendy swallowed, hard. There was nowhere for her and Ike to go; any way they went, they would be entirely exposed if Marie so much as glanced that direction, and from the top of the platform? She could look any direction.
That was when Kenny started... well, not quite shouting, but he wasn't being quiet about his demand to know what was going to happen to him. He'd gotten up, so quickly and violently that Wendy had heard his feet stamp on the top of the platform despite his heavy boots having gotten left behind.
Marie sighed. "That's hardly going to do you any good, Kenny."
"I've been co-operative, Marie, tell me what's going to happen to me. If this thing makes me mortal and then takes the one life I got, I deserve to know how it's gonna go down."
What?
Wendy experienced a shock. What had Kenny just said?
She was still uncertain how much she believed about the whole immortality thing Kenny claimed was part of his skill set, but Dee most certainly did... and if Kenny was risking death, Dee would not be happy about it. Hell, she wasn't happy about it. Part of her wanted to dive out at that very second-
"Bitch, he's putting on a show."
Ike's voice; a low hiss next to her as he grabbed the sleeve of her coat and tugged on her. She came back to earth with a jolt, and realized he was right; Kenny must have seen them... and decided to make himself a distraction.
Kenny you beautiful bastard... we'll get you out of this alive. You'll see.
"You'll be strapped in, a massive amount of electrical current will be run through the mechanism, and you will either come out the other side a changed person... or a crispy corpse." Marie informed him bluntly as Wendy and Ike moved around the base of the machine, staying low and moving as quietly as possible. Glances were stolen upwards, and Wendy had to swallow back the hesitation as Marie's head came into view just past the angle that would be considered profile.
If the woman even so much as glanced to the side, they would be caught.
Wendy half-pushed Ike out further, and Ike yanked her along. In a few steps, they were directly behind Marie's back, and heading for the first available bit of cover; one of the old work desks arranged around the machine. The very first one in the consecutive circles that they were arranged in, on the left side of the aisle cleared between the doors labeled 'CONTAINMENT' and the machine in the middle of the room.
"That's it? No theory to wax on about?" Kenny remained belligerent as they ducked below the old wooden desk they'd selected.
"Hours of it, actually." Marie countered. "And should you survive this, you're welcome to go through all my old notes stored away on the utility level... but for now, I really must insist you sit down- I have other things to attend to before we get underway, and I'm not taking my eyes off you until you're strapped in and under guard."
"... good plan." Kenny conceded.
Kenny you crazy son of a bitch.
Wendy and Ike had tucked themselves into the tight space beneath the desk, contained entirely and still exposed to a degree. The nature of the lighting rigs above them meant the shadows were minimal. If Marie walked back up the way she'd come and looked back? They were f-u-c-k-e-d.
First opportunity, the were going to need to make a run for a better hiding place... or take a stand.
Glancing to Ike, she knew they were on the same page. A nod was exchanged.
For now, they held their breath... and waited.
Dee couldn't sit still.
Hearing Kenny's voice had made her so excited she'd almost not known what to do with herself... which had made it all the more crushing when Marie threatened him directly through the PA. Despite knowing just how important his family was to him, there was a reflex to beg him not to leave her alone here that had to be quashed down and silenced.
Instead, she'd swallowed back the fear of being alone and trapped, and told him she understood.
That said, he'd left her a pair of gifts. One, the little bit of copper, was one she'd rather forget but tucked beneath the strap of her bra anyway, lacking a pocket for safe-keeping without her overcoat. The other was a screwdriver... one that was mildly bent but still a source of possible hope.
She'd already attempted brute force as a strategy for escape, and it hadn't given her anything besides sore shoulders. With the screwdriver, she could at least start destroying parts of her prison and seeing if there was anything useful inside the walls. The head of the tool wasn't exactly sharp, but it was just pointy enough that she could start ripping open the padding that prevented her from doing any real harm to herself, yanking it out whilst on the hunt for anything she could use.
After several minutes of effort, and more than a little pain in her continued insistence of being upright and moving despite the torture device stuck up her butt, she had very little to show for it; simply a room filled with ripped fabric and a great deal of fluff. Whomever had designed this place had done pretty well on the prison cells; no piping ran through the walls. Gas, water, electrical- none of the above were available to break and use.
Usually burning things was her go-to... though, even if she found something that could spark a fire, what would she do with it? She couldn't fart- not without ripping her asshole to an infinite degree and probably bleeding out from the internal damage.
Great. Saw: Buttlord Edition.
Next up was the door, but the hinges weren't on her side. Even if the screwdriver were the correct size, she couldn't just remove it from the frame... and both the frame and the door itself were made of metal beneath the padding. No weakness to exploit there, no wood that the water might have rotted away into something smash-able.
… that said, the metal bit set into the window, the one with the holes, that Marie had been speaking to her through? That had a screw in the middle.
The head was on her side. It fit the screwdriver.
After several minutes of panic and pacing, excitement snapped through her system. The bent screwdriver was annoying, but it still did its job, the screw eventually falling out and the fixture it held together coming apart in two pieces; one on either side of the door.
There was now a hole in the window; not big enough for her entire person, but big enough to force an arm through... and, better yet?
The window now had a giant hand-hold in the middle of it.
With a place to apply leverage, her attention turned towards the edges of the window. There was framing protecting it, but with the screwdriver she was able to pry it off. Underneath was some kind of adhesive that had sealed the window into the door frame, and while that adhesive might have been secure when this place had first been established? It was soft and gummy after years of high humidity and no maintenance. Once again, she dug her tool in, dragging and peeling and digging into the seam between the window and the door.
In time, the window began to wiggle in its mounted spot. The wire reinforcement to make it resistant to breaking or bashing was irrelevant.
She was going to yank the whole fucking thing out.
Fuck you, brute force is the answer.
She didn't know how long she worked on the window. Twenty minutes? An hour? It didn't matter. Splitting her focus to worry about anything else would only slow her down, and she sure as fuck wasn't just gonna sit on her ass like some damsel and wait for shit to happen to her.
Fuck that, fuck this, and fuck everything else- I am getting the fuck out of here.
The tip of the screwdriver was sticky with all the tacky crap she'd scraped out from the seams, and she dropped it on the floor as she went back for some of the padding she'd ripped off of the walls. Some foam and fabric could be wrapped together to protect her hands, and after compressing two chunks into passable guards, it was time to make an attempt.
The window was above her head level. Putting both hands into the hole that she'd made, her hands turned outwards and nearly back-to-back to one another, she pitched her body backwards and began to pull.
The window shifted, but didn't fully give right away. She put her foot up on the door, gritting her teeth as she felt the thing in her ass shift. She wasn't bleeding, was she? No, no, don't get distracted, keep pulling. Keep fucking pulling.
What was left of the adhesive made the strangest peeling noise, a slow release of something that had been held in place for a long time, resisting the forces that conspired to separate them.
She shifted her foot up, planted her heel, and brought up the other foot. She was suspended, off of the ground, both hands anchored on the window, and her entire body committed to pulling this thing the fuck out of its housing.
It gave.
Without an anchor, Dee's body responded to gravity and fell onto the padded floor. The shock was like a kick in the balls... or, maybe a kick in the ass was more accurate, because pain shot up her body and made her cry out to the ceiling between tightly gritted teeth.
The window had been flung somewhere behind her with the force of removal. She didn't care. Slowly, gingerly, she bent her body around the radiating pain to look up at her work.
With the window gone, there was now a space that was more than big enough for her body.
I'm coming, Kenny.
::The Author's Corner::
:D
ONWARDS!
-Buttlord