Please forgive me
Rachel fell asleep as soon as the chains were gone. No cold, stone floor had ever seemed so soft and inviting. When she woke, she found a paper cup filled with water in front of her, and hurried to drink its contents, not caring about the blood that accompanied it down, coming from cracks in her swollen lips.
She had a throbbing headache, surely a few broken ribs, and her wrists were about three times their natural size, but at least she was alone.
And in a place like that, alone was good.
She pulled herself up to sit in a corner, leaning against the wall and legs pulled up so she could wrap her arms around them and lean her head against her knees. Tears started rolling down her face. At first she tried to stop them, but soon she gave up and let them run down her cheeks.
It was a wonder she had stayed free as long as she had.
The Union prison. The place every and any rebel dreaded as much as they ever had the Yeerk pools.
The Union had seemed a good idea at first. The world united, and everyone fought the Yeerks. And the Yeerks were defeated. The Andalites helped - only a bit, but a very important such - and the Union was congratulated and showered with praise.
Marco had always been against it, though. And when the Yeerks were gone, he convinced the other Animorphs and the warriors that had been fighting alongside them that they needed to go into hiding.
He had seen what the Andalites and most of human kind had missed. The Andalite supporters if the Union, trying to help, had sent weapons. Shredders. Hunt-and-destroy hover crafts. Anti-morph rays that kept people from morphing, or from demorphing. It all had played a major part in defeating the by then morph-capable Yeerks. The Union became very powerful, in only months, and after a year or two the Yeerks were completely gone from Earth.
But people in power are seldom willing to let go. As soon as the Andalites turned their back to earth to chase Yeerks somewhere else the Union Council started looking for "traitors". Anyone who had been a Controller, voluntary or not, was accused of treachery. Anyone who had, for even a few steps, backed down during a battle was accused of the same. Anyone who hadn't raised a war-cry against the parasites, down to the smallest children, was sentenced because of 'lack of belief in the One State'.
The punishment to any of it was death.
All the free fighting groups that had fought independent of the Union, like Jake's army, were accused for not supporting the cause. Of being rebellious to both sides instead of only to the Yeerks. Of trying to steal the Union's hard-earned glory.
Again, the punishment was death.
The rebellion had been instant. And just as quickly battered down. The Union still had hold of the hunt-and-destroy hover crafts, and against them foot soldiers - even morphable ones - were helpless.
In the first few months, half the army had been hunted down and captured, or killed. No-one knew for sure. All the people left in camp each evening knew was that those that hadn't returned by nightfall, weren't going to return later, either.
Sara had been one of the first to disappear. Only days after that, Tobias went missing as well. Marco had been shot down trying to keep his parents free. His parents were captured, despite that, as well as a group of the "new Animorphs".
And one day, just a few months ago, Jake never returned to camp after going hunting for food. Cassie's parents were killed during a raid when she was away, searching for him, and when Cassie returned she was in wolf morph. She was still in wolf morph when she fled, howling, out of camp, after realising what had happened. She never returned to human. Or to camp.
Rachel looked around the room. It was a few meters wide, about the same in length, and the roof was too high up for her to reach. In one of the top corners was the tiny gadget that was the anti-morph ray, a tiny red lamp signalling that it was still on. It refocused on her every time she moved, by using the motion detector next to it.
If she'd been able to morph, she could have broken out easily. The door was made of steel, but nothing a grizzly would worry about for long. The crack underneath it was just wide enough for a cockroach to squeeze through. But as long as she couldn't morph…
Rachel sighed, glaring up at the hated object. If she could reach it... they were easily destroyed, being fragile little things. But it was too far up. She would need to be about twice as tall to even dream about reach it.
She leaned her head down towards her knees again and tried to clear her head and gather some strength before the guards came for her the next time.
It was almost evening before they did so. Rachel had no idea of the time, having no watch and no windows, but the guards were muttering about missing dinner, so she could make a decent guess. They tried to chain her by her wrists again, but they were too swollen. Swearing loudly among themselves, and giving her a few proper kicks to demonstrate their opinion on the matter more clearly, they brought out a collar and a leash - made for Andalites - instead.
Rachel's arms were tied together behind her back, each hand secured to the other elbow. They took away the tail-blade sheath, but kept the short chain that was attached to the collar.
The other soldier fastened the collar around her neck and grinned at her. "You know," he said. "They say you were the bear. And I think bears should always be wearing collars - because they never know where to go unless you lead them."
Rachel opened her mouth to snap back but was rewarded for it by a fist in her stomach.
"You remember what the officer said, don't you?" the soldier growled, tugging at the leash so that she stumbled forwards, down on her knees, the stone floor scraping them raw. "You don't talk to us."
"And you shouldn't talk to me either," she spat, struggling to get up.
A kick, straight at her belly. Rachel folded double, and a sharp yank at the leash made her crash down to the floor. Her arms were still tied behind her back, and she landed hard on her shoulder and the side of her head.
"Now get up," snapped the soldier that had kicked her. "He'll be mad at you if you arrive there and you're already dizzy from being beaten."
Rachel turned over on her back, looked up, and all of a sudden wished she had something to eat. Something to drink.
"Get up!" One of the two kicked at her shoulder.
She closed her eyes. Yes. She was weak with hunger. And even more than that, thirst. She was thirsty and hungry. That must be the reason she was so dizzy. Her mother always told her that she had to eat enough.
"UP!"
Pain in her head. Her head was already aching, throbbing, but now there was more of it. Didn't matter. She could deal with pain. She had dealt with pain before. All she had to do was to demorph…
She was thrown to the side when another boot slammed into her head.
Hunger. When had she eaten the last time? Weird. She couldn't remember. It was there, but she… couldn't focus.
"GET UP!"
Through her rapidly blurring sight, she saw the dim shape of a boot coming at her face. Then, all of a sudden, things went dark.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Author's Note;
There's the much-asked for background info. And that's basically where I was when I stopped writing this thing, so if any more of it is going up, I'll have to WRITE it. How annoying.
Review. (*grins* I know, I know, I'm obsessed with it. So what?)
Rachel fell asleep as soon as the chains were gone. No cold, stone floor had ever seemed so soft and inviting. When she woke, she found a paper cup filled with water in front of her, and hurried to drink its contents, not caring about the blood that accompanied it down, coming from cracks in her swollen lips.
She had a throbbing headache, surely a few broken ribs, and her wrists were about three times their natural size, but at least she was alone.
And in a place like that, alone was good.
She pulled herself up to sit in a corner, leaning against the wall and legs pulled up so she could wrap her arms around them and lean her head against her knees. Tears started rolling down her face. At first she tried to stop them, but soon she gave up and let them run down her cheeks.
It was a wonder she had stayed free as long as she had.
The Union prison. The place every and any rebel dreaded as much as they ever had the Yeerk pools.
The Union had seemed a good idea at first. The world united, and everyone fought the Yeerks. And the Yeerks were defeated. The Andalites helped - only a bit, but a very important such - and the Union was congratulated and showered with praise.
Marco had always been against it, though. And when the Yeerks were gone, he convinced the other Animorphs and the warriors that had been fighting alongside them that they needed to go into hiding.
He had seen what the Andalites and most of human kind had missed. The Andalite supporters if the Union, trying to help, had sent weapons. Shredders. Hunt-and-destroy hover crafts. Anti-morph rays that kept people from morphing, or from demorphing. It all had played a major part in defeating the by then morph-capable Yeerks. The Union became very powerful, in only months, and after a year or two the Yeerks were completely gone from Earth.
But people in power are seldom willing to let go. As soon as the Andalites turned their back to earth to chase Yeerks somewhere else the Union Council started looking for "traitors". Anyone who had been a Controller, voluntary or not, was accused of treachery. Anyone who had, for even a few steps, backed down during a battle was accused of the same. Anyone who hadn't raised a war-cry against the parasites, down to the smallest children, was sentenced because of 'lack of belief in the One State'.
The punishment to any of it was death.
All the free fighting groups that had fought independent of the Union, like Jake's army, were accused for not supporting the cause. Of being rebellious to both sides instead of only to the Yeerks. Of trying to steal the Union's hard-earned glory.
Again, the punishment was death.
The rebellion had been instant. And just as quickly battered down. The Union still had hold of the hunt-and-destroy hover crafts, and against them foot soldiers - even morphable ones - were helpless.
In the first few months, half the army had been hunted down and captured, or killed. No-one knew for sure. All the people left in camp each evening knew was that those that hadn't returned by nightfall, weren't going to return later, either.
Sara had been one of the first to disappear. Only days after that, Tobias went missing as well. Marco had been shot down trying to keep his parents free. His parents were captured, despite that, as well as a group of the "new Animorphs".
And one day, just a few months ago, Jake never returned to camp after going hunting for food. Cassie's parents were killed during a raid when she was away, searching for him, and when Cassie returned she was in wolf morph. She was still in wolf morph when she fled, howling, out of camp, after realising what had happened. She never returned to human. Or to camp.
Rachel looked around the room. It was a few meters wide, about the same in length, and the roof was too high up for her to reach. In one of the top corners was the tiny gadget that was the anti-morph ray, a tiny red lamp signalling that it was still on. It refocused on her every time she moved, by using the motion detector next to it.
If she'd been able to morph, she could have broken out easily. The door was made of steel, but nothing a grizzly would worry about for long. The crack underneath it was just wide enough for a cockroach to squeeze through. But as long as she couldn't morph…
Rachel sighed, glaring up at the hated object. If she could reach it... they were easily destroyed, being fragile little things. But it was too far up. She would need to be about twice as tall to even dream about reach it.
She leaned her head down towards her knees again and tried to clear her head and gather some strength before the guards came for her the next time.
It was almost evening before they did so. Rachel had no idea of the time, having no watch and no windows, but the guards were muttering about missing dinner, so she could make a decent guess. They tried to chain her by her wrists again, but they were too swollen. Swearing loudly among themselves, and giving her a few proper kicks to demonstrate their opinion on the matter more clearly, they brought out a collar and a leash - made for Andalites - instead.
Rachel's arms were tied together behind her back, each hand secured to the other elbow. They took away the tail-blade sheath, but kept the short chain that was attached to the collar.
The other soldier fastened the collar around her neck and grinned at her. "You know," he said. "They say you were the bear. And I think bears should always be wearing collars - because they never know where to go unless you lead them."
Rachel opened her mouth to snap back but was rewarded for it by a fist in her stomach.
"You remember what the officer said, don't you?" the soldier growled, tugging at the leash so that she stumbled forwards, down on her knees, the stone floor scraping them raw. "You don't talk to us."
"And you shouldn't talk to me either," she spat, struggling to get up.
A kick, straight at her belly. Rachel folded double, and a sharp yank at the leash made her crash down to the floor. Her arms were still tied behind her back, and she landed hard on her shoulder and the side of her head.
"Now get up," snapped the soldier that had kicked her. "He'll be mad at you if you arrive there and you're already dizzy from being beaten."
Rachel turned over on her back, looked up, and all of a sudden wished she had something to eat. Something to drink.
"Get up!" One of the two kicked at her shoulder.
She closed her eyes. Yes. She was weak with hunger. And even more than that, thirst. She was thirsty and hungry. That must be the reason she was so dizzy. Her mother always told her that she had to eat enough.
"UP!"
Pain in her head. Her head was already aching, throbbing, but now there was more of it. Didn't matter. She could deal with pain. She had dealt with pain before. All she had to do was to demorph…
She was thrown to the side when another boot slammed into her head.
Hunger. When had she eaten the last time? Weird. She couldn't remember. It was there, but she… couldn't focus.
"GET UP!"
Through her rapidly blurring sight, she saw the dim shape of a boot coming at her face. Then, all of a sudden, things went dark.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Author's Note;
There's the much-asked for background info. And that's basically where I was when I stopped writing this thing, so if any more of it is going up, I'll have to WRITE it. How annoying.
Review. (*grins* I know, I know, I'm obsessed with it. So what?)