Okay, here's a second (and probably final) warning for this story. This is where things turn even more dark than the content in the original Madness Combat.
I also noticed that the chapter publisher erases all of my formatting, so I apologize if you've have any difficulty understanding which quotes are supposed to be thoughts and which are said aloud. All thoughts, words spoken through electronics (speakers, phones, etc.) are supposed to be italicized.
The bun holder cushioning Gwen's head from the concrete walls of the cell was starting to give her an ache, but she didn't have much of any other option. Without her prosthetics, leaning against the wall was the only way she could sit, and she wasn't desperate enough to lie on the suspiciously stained floor.
The princess on the other side of the cell already had that choice made for her since what ever sedative they had been injected with was still working on her. Though, it wasn't the princess's presence that Gwen was worried about.
With every passing second, more sounds of awakening rose from the other neighboring cells. Many followed a similar pattern. A gasping as a late response to the plane crash was usually one of the first in its sequence. Groggy moans or sickly coughs may precede or succeed them. The worst came when the panic set in. There were cries for help, angered shouts, and terrified sobs. All of which would set off each other in a sick feedback loop.
The volume had grown so much that Gwen hardly heard the question she was being asked.
"Where are we?" repeated the princess across from her, now fully awake and short on patience.
Gwen almost admired her firmness, since she knew from experience that it was so easy to give way into fear in these situations.
"A trafficking ring…" she answered. It was the first time she had spoken, and her tongue felt like sandpaper against her mouth.
As expected, the princess frowned, as if insulted.
"What did you just say?"
Now Gwen could hear the fear creeping into her voice.
"This is a trafficking ring," she said again.
The princess's jaw went limp, a response resting on her lips. She looked at the bars as the cacophony of dread echoed, then looked back at Gwen, and repeated the actions a few more times, stuttering her confused thoughts.
"N…No, no, that's…that's not…how would you even…how would you even know that?"
Her final question came as an angered shout, to which Gwen snapped back, "I just do! I know what trafficking rings look like."
"Well, I'd hate to insult your intelligence, princess, but that's just not right."
The noise softened slightly at the sound of a heavy door closing, followed by Theresa's voice.
Both Gwen and her cellmate turned to witness the surreal sight of Theresa strolling up to the bars, twirling a key around her lithe fingers. In her other arm were Gwen's prosthetics.
"Maybe your memory's a little fuzzy from the crash...or you just wanted to block those memories out," she said as she unlocked the cell, "I wouldn't blame you, hon."
"Queen Theresa! Thank god you're alright…"
However, Theresa walked past the other princess without a single glance and dropped the prosthetic legs in front of Gwen.
"Put them on. I'm taking you on a field trip," she said.
"What do you mean he just vanished?"
The agents tensed at the Auditor's tone. They knew that their explanation wouldn't be satisfactory, and his anticipated ire made the interaction all the more unnerving.
"We'll rewind the tape to show you, sir," said one agent, fiddling with the bulky buttons, "It's the same on each camera."
The Auditor leaned in closer to the monitors, inadvertently forcing the other two agents off to the side.
Each monitor displayed footage from the top four corners of the room where it all took place, giving a clear image of every perspective.
As always, the slow motion button was used to analyze the quick movements of the fight. Even though only two people were the main focus of everyone's attention, the large number of agents and those transporting the royals was distracting.
Hank plowed through the agents with supernatural ease, turning the once peaceful, organized scene into a bloodbath within seconds.
"He's definitely getting stronger…" noted the Auditor.
On another monitor, Jeb and the Sheriff could be seen conversing before being alerted by Hank's arrival. Jeb shoved the Sheriff off to the side before the latter could even fully register what happened.
Jeb then made his way across the room, grabbing a discarded gun and meeting Hank on the other monitor. As expected, Jeb and Hank were an even match, which gave the other agents the opportunity to strike Hank from his unprotected sides.
Just then, a flash of white light flooded all of the monitors.
Even Olivia, who stood by the doorway on the other side of the room, could see the shine leaking over the hunched figures around the screens.
It only lasted a second, even in slow motion, but when it vanished, so had Jeb.
"Go slower. Frame by frame if you have to," ordered the Auditor.
The agent obliged without a word, and everyone watched the events play out over and over again with decreasing speed, but the same mysterious disappearance would happen every time. Hank and Jeb would get close enough for Jeb to snatch Hank's rifle. The motion, along with the blow Hank took from behind from an agent wielding a club, would cause him to stumble forward. Before Hank could crash into Jeb, the white light would snatch him away.
"Was that from the Higher Powers? But that lightning struck indoors."
The Auditor shook his head. It was foolish to think such powerful deities could be stopped by the constructs of a building.
"Maybe they're angry that we used their power to make Jeb," he thought, "We should have seen this day coming."
On the monitor, Hank paused for a moment, staring at the empty space where Jeb once stood. A few of the agents who had been attacking him stopped, too, but the others were too swept up in the brawl to be confused.
When one such agent fired a bullet into Hank's back, everyone else was thrown back into action; everyone except the target of all of the violence. Rather than retaliate, Hank pushed the agents out of his way like they were mere obstacles and ran out of the room.
His figure dashed across several monitors until he could no longer be seen in the building.
Odd.
The Auditor stood back up, straightening himself out.
"Send out a search party for Hank," he commanded.
A resounding, "Yes sir!" echoed around the room as everyone sprang into action.
The Auditor walked back towards Olivia.
"Will that include me?" she asked.
"No, I'm giving you a special assignment," replied the Auditor, "We once had a zombie…"special agent", I guess you could call him, but he was too unstable to manage."
The Auditor reached into his pocket, pulling out a small flip notebook filled with faces and mugshots. He stopped on a picture of a clown wearing a labcoat. Beneath the picture was "Dr. Hofnarr/Tricky" scrawled in red ink.
"He may look a little different now, but this is the most recent picture we have," he said, "Knowing him, he's probably not too far from Hank."
Observing the picture, Olivia asked, "And what do you need me to do when I see him?"
"Bring me his head. You'll be replacing him."
Gwen's prosthetics chaffed uncomfortably against the stumps of her thighs as she walked. There was still some trapped water inside from the crash, but she didn't expect Theresa to be able to dry it beyond wiping them with a cloth. The soft squelsh could barely be heard behind the echoes of their footsteps in the dark corridors.
"I'm surprised you haven't asked me anything," said Theresa, "You know it's not smart to just blindly follow someone or do what they say, right?"
"I get the feeling this isn't a safe place to put up a fight," wearily sighed Gwen, "I might be better off not knowing what's going on here."
Theresa sucked her teeth. "That's a nasty defeatist's attitude you've got there," she said, "Honestly, I think the little task I had set up for you will fix that right up."
Again, Gwen didn't ask for any further elaboration. She just followed Theresa with her head hung low. She didn't want to think about what Theresa meant, or anything about the situation, for that matter.
When they came to a tight hallway with a single, rusty door at the end, she tried to ignore Theresa thumbing through the keys on her key ring. She tried to ignore the thudding in her chest and evade the dreadful ponderings about what probably waited just beyond the door. She tried to ignore the all too familiar sounds of whimpers and crying behind cloth gags, but when the light flickered to life, she couldn't curb her attention.
A circle of women tied to chairs sat in the center of the large room. All had their backs towards each other, legs and arms chains together with handcuffs like some sick game of Musical Chairs had taken place.
An indescribable feeling washed over Gwen as she realized that she recognized them all, including her own mother.
"I snuck them over on a separate plane."
Theresa's voice just barely scratched the surface of Gwen's reverie.
This was all a dream, Gwen was sure. It had to be a horrid fantasy created by her own frustration and stress.
But when Theresa walked past her and caressed one of the faces of the women, who flinched away with a yelp, it seemed to prove that this was reality.
"Don't tell me you don't recognize them," she said, "I'm sure that if I took off these blindfolds, they'd recognize you."
Gwen's being shook, her hands growing clammy even in the cold room.
"W-Wh…at is…" her voice was a pitiful squeak, but it was enough for one of the women to call out behind her binds.
"Ah yes, Queen Alexis of the Levi division, you're the guest of honor," said Theresa, walking over to remove the cloth around her mouth, "Do you have anything to say?"
"Gwen? Is that you?! Are you here?" the mother rasped.
Gwen gave a shuddering breath, "Mom…what is this?"
"She wouldn't have the answer for that," said Theresa, "You see, Gwen, I had to twist the truth a little bit. This trading voyage is actually for an experiment the royals have the luxury of being participants in."
Gwen frowned at the women. Aside from her mother, none of them were royals. They were part of the upperclass, but not a part of any government.
"Mind you, nothing as depraved as what this bitch of a mother put you through…" Alexis cried out as Theresa yanked a fistful of her hair, "In fact, I think you'll enjoy this, because for once..."
Theresa stepped to the side of the room, pushing a crate loaded with rusty tools and odorous substances in various containers.
"...you'll be distributing the pain."
The trance-like feeling returned.
The women's muffled screams and cries grew louder and more desperate at Theresa's declaration. A few aggressively shook against their binds, rattling the metal chairs against their handcuffs.
Alexis' chest heaved as she pushed her own panic down.
"Theresa, please, I-I know what I did wasn't right but you understand why I did it, don't you? As a leader, y-you have to think of the whole, not just the individual. I-If you have to choose between your people and one person…"
Gwen clamped her hands over her ears.
"No, don't make excuses!" her mind roared, "I'm not just some person; I'm your child!"
Theresa scoffed, her lips twisted in a slight sneer.
"I'm no saint by any means of the word, but I can recognize evil when I see it." She then turned to Gwen. "Go on, then, princess."
Gwen took a shaky step backwards, pushing her hands tighter against her ears. She didn't know how she was able to still hear Theresa through her hands or the muffled protests, but she didn't want to hear either.
"No…no, I'd never do that…I…this is crazy–this isn't real! I just…"
Gwen felt one of her hands get slowly removed from her ear. Theresa's lips grazed the shell of her ear as she whispered, "It's okay. I know you want to hurt them after how much they hurt you."
Again, her voice overpowered any other noise around them. She guided Gwen's hand to a thick glove set on the crate and began to slide it on her delicate digits.
"Don't worry about what people will think or about making a mess. You're just disposing of worthless trash."
Theresa took Gwen's other hand, sliding another glove over it. The rationality in her mind begging for escape was hushed.
"They stole your innocence for their own fun. She stole your legs for her own success."
Gwen ducked her head down, allowing Theresa to put an apron on her.
"You have a lot of perpetrators to punish, and a lot of punishments to try on them. You could electrocute her into a crisp, maybe force feed her raw sewage. The choice is yours, really."
Gwen outstretched her trembling hand, staring at the array of tools.
The women's screaming didn't hurt her ears anymore.
Hank sat in the cave staring at his fingers.
"I still don't know what happened," he thought, replaying the events in his mind.
There was so much going on. There always was. He was getting used to the chaos, but that didn't mean he could always pick out every single action he made. Half of the time, he wasn't even sure that he was in control of his body.
Every so often, the white electric currents that flowed across his body gave the dark walls a hint of light. Hank hissed as they stung his brandings. He didn't even have to remove his many layers of clothing to know that that's where the electricity was hitting him.
With the addition of his multiple wounds, Hank knew that he would struggle to get any rest.
"I wish 2B could patch me up." A sinking feeling fell in his chest. "No, I'd probably hurt him."