Summary: A solo mission to a secluded planet goes haywire when Pidge finds out that she's not quite alone, and that she's definitely not safe. Requests sent by Reuitai and CarnelianWing, twisted in my own devilish manner, of course!
Warnings: Graphic torture (including mutilation), even more graphic depictions of violence (young children or faint of heart, you do not want to see this. You have been warned. I swear this was actually difficult for me to write), some elements of horror, and an ending up to the audience, but with a dark note. Also involves an insane scientist (seriously, this dude is creepy!), so watch out, peeps…
This one could be potentially triggering so I'm sorry.
I seriously think I get gradually darker with each chapter.
Also Happy Easter, guys! That means Lent is over!
Hope quarantine is okay.
I hope you guys like it, since I merged two of the requests...
Also I plan on writing more of the requests so stay tuned. :)
Read the end of the chapter, too!
Timeline: Season 4 after Reunion, before Naxela.
Disclaimer: Voltron: Legendary Defender is not mine!
Iva-Iyei was a beautiful planet.
It was probably the most beautiful planet Pidge had seen in her life. Everything about it was stunning, from the golden mountains that reached to the skies, to the verdant forests covered in a rainbow of luminescent flowers. The rivers here were not simply transparent to reflect the blue sky, but had color of their own: Shades of blue and purple and green so vibrant she had doubted it was even water at first. Wildlife here flourished, and it was so peaceful. At times she found winged mammals landing on her shoulders and giant, fluffy orange worms slinking around her feet. Even an enormous, wolf-like canine with a scar across its eye was happy to trot next to her for the majority of her exploration.
She wondered why no communities had settled here.
Pidge was here on a mission. Several Rebel ships had landed on Iva-Iyei and no one had heard from them since. The Coalition suspected Galra interference, but they had sent her to make sure. Besides, it was an act of kindness to honor the victims and their families and retrieve a body for burial, and hopefully uncover the cause for death along the way.
While at first she hadn't been looking forward to investigating a potential homicide, the majestic planet had made up for it. When she returned she would recommend it as a secret base for the Coalition. The tranquility and the fact that it seemed mostly undisturbed by Galra colonization would make it the ideal place to recover.
To put it simply: Pidge was very glad to be there.
At midday she sat down beside a tree and chomped on the peanut butter and jelly sandwich Hunk had prepared for her prior to her departure. As always, it was delicious, and she silently thanked her large friend for having such skill in preparing delicacies. Otherwise, she was sure she would have starved herself by now from the disgusting taste of Coran's cooking.
It was a great day until the sky darkened.
That was when she found the body.
Pidge had been heading toward several spires of smoke that had clotted the southern sky. Even at night, when they were hardly visible, she could smell the scent of ash. She knew at once that it was worth checking out. What were the chances that on such a desolate planet, the fires were from something other than the Rebel ships?
And she had been right.
Scattered against a ledge that hung over a deep ravine were Rebel ships, two of which were completely demolished, and the last mostly intact. From the sight of it, it looked like two of the ships had crashed, but not the third.
So why was it still here?
Surely the third ship's crew would have brought the surviving passengers, if any, into their own ship and left immediately. Those were the directives, anyway, and a very logical solution. So why had they stayed?
Maybe they needed to collect some resources before they left, but surely they would have been back by now. The ships had been here for at least two Quintants.
Or.
Something was keeping them here.
Pidge approached the ship warrily, clutching her Bayard firmly in her fist. The slunk inside the ajar door of the remaining ship, entering a dark chamber with only her blade to illuminate the room with green. The area was quiet, so very quiet, that it made her blood curdle. If the door being open wasn't a hint enough, the silent shuttle definitely proved that the crew was long gone.
She stepped around a fallen crate with its contents, numerous black nails, scattered over the floor. As she looked around, she noticed several other boxes were in pieces, with little wooden bits everywhere. Something had happened here, something… bad.
She was contemplating on what when she nearly tripped over something. Something squishy, something wet, something limp. She peered down slowly, then her eyes widened in horror.
Before her was the macabre, mangled body of one of the Rebels.
The yellow alien's whitened eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. A single trail of blood leaked from his lips and nose, a small rivulet that led into the gaping maw that was his stomach. It was ripped open to reveal his rib cavity and shredded flesh. His entrails hung out losely, some even so severed that they left only stringlike remains. Some organs missing, a leg left with only it's bone. Skin was bitten off where it shouldn't have been.
Pidge felt sick.
Something had eaten him.
Suddenly she realized that it was a very, very bad idea to be inside the ship alone.
Two red, unblinking eyes stared at her from the shadows. The light from the outside was just barely bright enough to reveal long jaws of six inch, needle-like teeth and a forked tongue that lolled out of the mouth. Claws scrapped the ground as a matted, black furred canine emerged, the fur at its chin dripping with blood.
There was a scar across its scarlet eye.
Just like the other wolf.
They were the same, or at least, a few hours ago they were.
The demon stepped over the body, and Pidge took a cautionary step back. She needed to get out. What happened to the Rebels… It was going to happen to her too if she didn't escape soon.
She finally understood why this planet was devoid of civilization.
The beast lunged forward, fangs bared hungrily for her throat. Pidge threw herself to the side, just barely avoiding a neck full of teeth. She scrambled for the exit. The monster turned to follow its prey.
Pidge tumbled through the rock terrain, stumbling and fighting for an escape. The creature was gaining on her, its paws being much faster than the feet of a simple human, Paladin of Voltron or not. She lacked the time and focus to turn on her jetpack, with every lost second meaning death was closing in. Her only chance at survival was by using her intelligence. That was where she had the advantage. She was obviously much more clever than a mut
She darted into the thick forest, where the beast couldn't easily follow. She swerved between the thinnest spaces between trees so it had to detour around. What she didn't account for was the wolf's strength. The enormous beast was so powerful that it smashed the smaller trees to the side, and the larger ones were less frequent and more separated.
Pidge leaped onto the trunk of a large tree. She doubted her handless pursuer could climb, and maybe it was her only chance at escape. But the fiend's claws slammed against her flank and smashed her to the ground. She shut her eyes, awaiting the death that was sure to arrive…
But it didn't kill her.
Pidge peeked open an eye to see the maw of the wolf, and its saliva dripping onto her helmet. A low, menacing growl sounded from its throat. It gradually lowered its jaw and bit onto the scruff of her armor. She was lifted into the air, and then her transporter began to trek through the woods.
Pidge began to struggle to no avail, fighting for an escape. She didn't trust the monster to be taking her to a picnic. More likely way that it was taking her to its den to devour, although why not eat her now? That was what it had done with the Rebel.
But the wolf did not take her to its den.
Not at all.
The beast carried her to a ship, a Galra one, she noted, sitting above a ledge. Vine growth over the sides pointed that it had been here for quite a while, at least half a year, she presumed. And much to her shock, the wolf brought her inside and left her without even another look.
Pidge watched it leave curiously. Why did it leave me? She wondered, getting to her feet. Maybe it only likes specific species of aliens? But then, why bring me here? It would have been a lit less work to just not bother me in the first place.
She looked around. The Galra ship, while still being a Galra ship, was unique to say the least. The lights were a distinct shade of red instead of purple, the kind of read with a forbidding Tartarean glow that sent shivers down her spine. Even stranger, the whole place was eerily quiet. Normally, the thudding of sentries marching through the halls was obvious. But there was no noise there. Not being surrounded by Galra was supposed to be a good thing.
Today, it didn't seem so nice.
Pidge shook off her unease and began to proceed toward the Command Deck. Maybe, as long as the ship had remained here, it still retained some information on prisoners. It would also give her the chance to hack out some potentially useful knowledge for the Coalition. Maybe she could even uncover the mystery as to why the ship had not left, and why the wolf had decided not to use her as a late night snack.
She peeked inside the room to make sure no one was there, and was surprised (and relieved) to find it was devoid of any added on to her confusion: The ship seemed to still be functional, so where was the crew? Perhaps the same fate that befell the Rebels was their demise as well, she speculated.
Pidge moved to the Control Panel and turned on the dashboard, met instantly with magenta light. Her fingers typed on the keyboard and eyes scanned the info that appeared. She had done this many times and was confident in her ability to retrieve information.
"Now, what little bird is invading my space?"
A hand grasped her neck and yanked her into the air, bringing her face to face with a twisted grin.
A Galran smiled at her, if he could even be called Galra at all. His skin was so stretched over his face that it gave him a skeletal appearance, and his eyes sockets so sunken in that they darked the space around his yellow slits. Below his eyes were orangish markings that were shaped like fangs, which were also on his forehead and furred ears. On his left ear was an earring of a black skull with a red and blue gem for eyes. But the most unusual thing about him was his fangs, so needle-like that they faintly resemble those of the wolf.
"My, my, don't tell me I've caught myself a Paladin of Voltron?" Pidge squirmed within his grip, managing to even bite his hand, much to her delight. The Galran did not even flinch, though a flicker of amusement appeared for a millisecond on his repulsive face. "What luck! And it's exactly the little Paladin I wanted."
"Let me go!" She yelled, scratching her fingernails across his face. He grabbed her wrist before she could pull it back down, smirking malignantly at her look of rage.
"Naughtly, naughtly." He removed his hand from her wrist and patted her head,as if she were nothing more than a dog or a small child. It made her sick. "You have such naughty little fingers. You shouldn't use them to invade Galra databases, dear."
He dragged her to a pole without difficulty, in spite of her vicious, feral attacks. He sat her down and chained her to it, then placed a muzzle around her mouth. Pidge tried to cry out as much profanity as she could muster, although she could barely even open her mouth through the gag, and it came out muffled.
The Galra grabbed one of her hands and examined it, despite her growls of protest. "I don't think I've introduced myself," he hissed, and then snapped her pointer finger back. Pidge yelped. A sharp pain ran through her hand as the bone broke with a distinct crack.
"My name is Fahyr Avaaix." He broke her middle finger next. Pidge had to bite her tongue to keep from squealing. Tears of pain welled up in her eyes, and her face grew red as she struggled to endure it.
"I am one of the Galra Empire's most acclaimed scientists for my studies on the supernatural forces of the universe and mental contamination." Snap! Her ring finger this time, hanging limp and purple like the others. "My discoveries have colonized entire galaxies and advanced Galra technology in ways never imagined. Of course, there are those who consider my work demonic, and it is, and therefore choose not to accumulate my discoveries into their weaponry, but that is fine. They simply will fall behind in their conquest of the universe and leave way for those more open to scientific revolution." Her pinky finger broke. "You have seen my work in action, little one. You ran from one of my wolves, yes?"
Her unblinking stare was his answer. "And your name is Katie, am I wrong?" He grinned when she froze up. "Don't be surprised, precious. The Galra Empire has tabs on everything, and I took an interest in you from the start. I just happen to have connections with the highest ranked Commanders, even the Emperor himself! We know more about you than you thought, hmm?"
He cracked her thumb so hard that Pidge could not hold back anymore and let out a whimper. He kept breaking her fingers until all were useless, dangling lifelessly off of her palms. Fahyr bound her hands behind the pole, then left, returning later with a box made of wood. He set it on the ground, dusted it off, and then opened it to reveal a set of sinister looking equipment. Pidge blinked nervously as he rummaged through it.
"We'll get to business soon, but I haven't been able to torture a prisoner in years! Besides, a little harm to the body will do nothing to that amazing brain of yours - Aha!" He removed an electronic scalpel, and suddenly Pidge felt very, very nervous. She had a pretty good feeling that Fahyr's idea of torture was a bit more depraved than normal Galra torture, which was already depraved.
He yanked off the armor on her left arm and pulled up her sleeve, leaving her skin fully exposed to his electronic blade. Pidge pulled and tugged, trying to do whatever she could to escape his psychotic plans. He gave her an unhinged grin, then pressed the button.
Purple energy zapped into her arm. She jerked and fought, but Fahyr kept her steady. Pidge took one look down through the agony and felt her stomach drop in horror. That's a letter. Oh quiznak, he's writing something. He's actually writing something into my skin.
Smoke rose, tears shed, a throat ran raw from the shrieks.
Finally, the electricity shut off, and Pidge collapsed, panting. Her eyes instantly turned to her arm, where an unfamiliar word had been branded into her skin.
Xyrh.
There was no way that meant anything nice.
"What fun!" Fahyr exclaimed, completely ignorant of her crestfallen expression, or the anguished tears that leaked from her face. ""I wish we could do that all day!" He rubbed his chin almost longingly. "I should put you in the Think Tank, though. Zarkon is waiting for your magnificent brain to be put to good use. Just imagine what the Galra, and I, could achieve with your intelligence!"
No.
Pidge's feelings of despair were quickly replaced with sheer horror.
The Galra were going to use her like a battery, simply plugging her in to suck out her knowledge for their fowl plans.
They could also steal private information belonging to the Paladins, a fact that could be extremely devastating.
They were doomed.
Fahyr unlocked her chains and carried her over to a cylindrical repository made of blue glass. The top was covered in at least twenty cords that connected to the computer and flickered every once in a while with electricity. Pidge gulped. She was certain that the 'Think Tank' wouldn't be the most comfortable experience in the world. Far from it.
The tube slid open and Pidge was shoved inside, barely able to even regain footing before it shut on her. She smashed her flank against the glass, unable to use her hands and left arm for stability. She yelled, and yelled, and yelled, but Fahyr didn't seem to hear her, and even if he did, he likely wouldn't care.
The Galran tapped on the Control Panel, turned up a notch, and then flicked a switch.
Purple energy enveloped Pidge's wrists and ankles, spread up to her torso, and then everything exploded in pain.
Her body clenched up and her head fell back in a voiceless scream. Her eyes shot open, no longer her normal colors, but a neon green that emitted bright rays. It felt like her mind was being dragged out of her head, which it kind of was, considering Fahyr had called it a Think Tank.
"I would like the blueprints for the Castle of Lions." Fahyr's voice echoed not only outside the tube, but also within her head. "I would also like a foolproof way to hack into it using your techniques, as well as a list of the times you have hacked into the Galra Empire and the technological strategies you've used." Information was already flowing out of her head and onto the Galran's dashboard. He chuckled.
"This is the root of my success!" He exclaimed, clapping his clawed fingers together. " I told Theyvor that my Think Tank would work, just like all of my other experiments! He just can't accept that I'm much better than him, and that Zarkon thinks - Wait, how did you get in here? What are you doing!? No, stop!"
Smash! Slam! Crash!
The room was silent.
The tube slid open and Pidge tumbled out, only caught by strong arms before she could hit the ground. Her wary eyes, now back to normal in color, looked up to see an anxious face. Even though she had not seen him in months and he wore a different outfit, she recognised his face instantly.
"Keith," she gasped through a strained throat.
"Are you okay?" He took one look at her fingers and his face grew red with rage. Not even waiting for a response, the Half-Galran whirled around and marched over to Fahyr, who was clutching his wounded side against the wall. Keith took one look at him and punched him in the face.
"What did you do to her!?" He sent another punch toward his gut, and then his head again.
"Enjoyed myself," Fahyr breathed unsteadily, from both bleeding from his mouth and a black eye. "The Galra Empire… We were going to use her for our own purposes… And I wanted to have some fun first… I did."
Keith recoiled in horror. "So you tortured her!?" He grabbed the psychopath's neck and held it against the wall. "You decided to snap her fingers as if she couldn't suffer!? I should break all of yours!"
Fahyr chuckled, with an apparent grimace of discomfort. "Wait 'till you see what I wrote on her arm."
Keith literally dropped the torturer to the ground and rushed over to the fallen Paladin. He grabbed her arm in his hand and pulled up her sleeve. Pidge saw the moment when he froze, and his face paled, and his eyes widened. The former Black Paladin removed his hand without a word, walked right back to Fahyr, and sliced off his head.
He turned back to her, his eyes now filled with grief. "What?" She asked, breathless from the Think Tank but panicked. "Keith, what's wrong?!"
"Can you walk?" He avoided the question. Pidge complied to his inquiry and tried to stand up, falling back down immediately after she had gotten to her arms and knees. She was so weak. The Think Tank had greatly stolen all her strength.
"Lean on my shoulder." His hand wrapped around her back and pulled her shaky form to her feet. The two proceeded toward the door, with Pidge stumbling the entire way.
"Keith, what does it mean?" He said nothing, focused entirely on the path ahead.
"Keith, I want to know what he wrote on my arm."
His jaw was clenched. No words came out.
"Keith!"
The Blade finally turned to her, and to her shock, her intense, ferocious, and strong friend's eyes were clouded with tears.
"Keith," she whispered, feeling her heart sink very low. "What does the word mean?"
"It's - It's horrible." Keith seemed to struggle to say it to her, or to find the right words. "It's what the Galra call Non-Galrans that are weak and useless. I learned about it during my training as a Blade, when we were freeing a prison on frail aliens from Galra control. The word, it was burnt into their flesh…" He took another look at her arm, winced, and turned away.
Pidge felt very, very cold.
Already she had been reeling from the horror that someone had the cruelty to torture her, a girl not even sixteen. But for them to write a horrible insult that would likely stick with her forever?
Fahyr was open to the possibility that I'd manage to escape, she realized. He was open to the chance that I'd forget about him and move on. This was his nasty trick. His snake in the box. That if I did escape I would always bear a wicked of what he thinks, what he wants me to think, I am. He wanted more than to lower my self-esteem.
He wanted to break me.
She paused.
Maybe he succeeded.
/\/\/\
Pidge was lying in bed.
Her hair spread out over her pillows as unblinking eyes stared up at the ceiling. Her hands were folded over her chest without movement. The room was very quiet, and dark, and devoid of any motion.
She wanted to fall asleep.
Something dark thought otherwise.
"Weak."
Fahyr stood next to her, yellow eyes glinting in the shadows.
"I'm not." Pidge slid out of her bed and faced the Galran. "I'm not weak."
"Think what you must," he whispered, his lips curled into a smile. "But to the Galra Empire, you are nothing more than a Xyrh."
She sent a fist flying toward him, but her fist made no contact with his gut, or any part of him. It flew through, and he vanished.
He had never been there.
"Pidge?" Lance called through the door, sounding nervous. "Are you okay? Do you need any help?"
"No," she replied.
Yes, she knew she really meant.
"Weak," came a whisper from every point in the room. Fahyr no longer spoke alone, but with a string of disembodied voices, both familiar and unfamiliar. She heard Shiro's, and Allura's, and Coran's, and Keith's, and Hunk's, and Lance's. Worst of all was her own, mixed in with the cacophony of a million utterances. Pidge crumpled to the floor and clasped her hands over her ears, wilking everything for the twisted song to just disappear.
"Weak," said a final voice, and then she was alone.
Notes:
This one ended on quite a different note than my first two chapters. While Best Laid Schemes had a defined epilogue, and The Weakest Link was open-ended but rung with a somewhat hopeful tune (hence Shiro's words), this one is entirely up to the audience. I wanted to try something a little different, and I'm kind of proud of how it turned out!
Important! I am considering writing a multi-chaptered fanfic eventually. It will likely be like the lengthened version of what you might find in here. If I do get to writing one of these, that will mean I will alternate between that and this. I don't even have a story idea down yet (no need to worry) but I just wanted to put it out in the open in case I do eventually do that. Requests are open for that as well (though I will be more picky with a multi-chaptered fic then a one-shot.
This short story was a merge of requests from Reuitai and CarnelianWing. Please send in your own requests to ensure that I write what you want, too! Don't be shy! Scary Pidge stories (especially with whump involved) are fun and make the author smile!
Bye!