Chapter 2: Thoughts and Stuff
I have as much rage as you have
I have as much pain as you do
I've lived as much hell as you have
And I've kept mine bubbling under for you
---Alanis Morrisette "Sympathetic Character"
The next day I awoke around 8:00. It was late by my usual standards. In Robotropolis, I was usually up at 6:00. It was kind of unnecessary. There usually wasn't that much work to do, but Robotnik expected me to be up before sunrise, and so I was.
I closed my eyes, sprawling out lazily on the bed. At least I could relax here. Unlike that city. How hard I worked there. Getting up early every morning, working all day, sometimes all night. Robotnik kept me working constantly. It wasn't always important things either. When there wasn't much going on, he made me compile and write stupid reports.
In my free time, I didn't usually relax. I had my own work, which mainly included plotting against ole Uncle Julian.
Robotnik thought I was conniving. He didn't trust me. Which was one reason he treated me so badly. But I wasn't crafty at first. As the abuse got worse, I realized I had to get rid of him. So I became what he thought I was; conniving, backstabbing, a double-crosser.
There were times I almost got caught. It was terrifying. Robotnik's eyes would get all crazed, and he would get ready to hurt and maim my poor poor body. But I always managed to get out of it. I was really a superb liar. That, combined with my groveling, was usually enough to get my feet out of the grave.
Then, Robotnik came up with that 'Ultimate Annihilator' idea. At first, I was actually excited about it. Knothole would be destroyed! Mobius would finally be ours...well, Julian's anyway.
Robotnik was thrilled at the prospect of a leveled Knothole. He actually treated me better in the days following the machine's completion.
I had a few sleepless nights that week...I admit it. I wondered what would happen if Robotnik used the machine, and destroyed Knothole. Would he treat me better? Or would it be the same? Should I tweak the machine, make it destroy Robotnik? If I didn't, then my chance was gone.
But finally, I did go through with it. The machine was being created in one of Robotnik's labs. I created a loop tape, and installed it in the surveillance camera in the lab. It looped an empty room, over and over...because if Robotnik saw me on the surveillance tapes, tinkering with his 'baby', he'd have me slaughtered.
I was not caught. I did my 'adjustments' on select nights; nights when Robotnik was sleeping, and Packbell was in his lab way on the other side of the city.
The day Robotnik used it, I was floating on a haze made by my painkillers and alcohol mixed; I knew I shouldn't do that... But if the machine didn't work, if Robotnik wasn't killed...would he notice something was wrong? Would he suspect me? I figured if I was going to be beaten to death, I misewell numb myself to the pain...
But all went well, for me, anyway. Robotnik, and Packbell too, I suspect, were both 'blown to hell' as Nack had said.
But then, those monsters, those furry brats...they came. They took it all away. My ultimate dream, snatched right from my hands...by a couple of kids! They came in, and I, still woozy from my 'celebrating', was too stupid in the head to stop them.
The big skunk freedom fighter caught me with some net. I knew I was captured, perhaps heading to my trial (and inevitable death) in Knothole, but I was too wasted to care. I insulted the princess, laughed as the skunk slung me over his shoulder and headed away from the city.
But now...I can't laugh.
"Ya know what I would do to her?" Drago was talking across my cell to Flying Frog. He was holding his porn magazine in his hand.
"What?" asked the frog.
"I'd open up them legs, nice and slow. Suck on her toes a little, women, they like that."
"Lick her up like an ice cream sundae," chuckled the frog.
"Yeah!" Drago laughed and ran his hand up and down the bars separating his cell from mine.
"Do you mind?" I growled. The wolf was practically yelling in my ear.
"What's yer problem, cueball?" The wolf flipped through his magazine, then regarded me with a sneer.
"Yeah, why you flippin' out? Just wake up and BAM! You're all cranky."
I should ignore them. They're obviously below me. Heathens, really. But am I really any better? How stupid. Of course I am. I'm human...they're animals. Just silly talking animals.
I shouldn't talk to them. Inferior species didn't deserve to converse...oh hell. Arrogance is not the way to go when you're stuck in a cell for God knows how long...
"I was just thinking," I said.
"What about?"
"The rebels."
"You mean the Freedom Fighters."
"Yes. I hate them. I want to kill them for what they did..."
Drago snarled. "Yeah, they suck. I want to strangle all of 'em." He clenched his huge fists.
"Me too!" chimed in the overly optimistic frog. "They're the ones that put me in here."
"There's a certain bitch I need to pay back," the wolf hissed. His hands clenched on the bars, shaking them.
I leaned back on the bed, resting my head against the wall. "I was so close to having Robotropolis. Do you know what that's like? To be that close, and have it taken away..."
Drago sat cross-legged on his bed. It sagged under his heavy weight. "I do know what ya mean. That Robotnik promised me a portion of Robotropolis."
"Oh, did he?" I turned my head to look at him. "You wouldn't have gotten it, either way. If he lived, he wouldn't have given it to you, and I certainly wouldn't give it to you."
"Puh," he snorted. "And why not?"
"Because you're a moron. That part of the city would be in shambles within a week."
"Puh," said the wolf again. "I would've built that baby up, built some kickass weapons, and wiped out them little brats. That bitch too."
"Hey, hey, what's all this noise?" The two main guards, Marshe and Smiley appeared in the hallway.
"Sounds like our newbie is blending in well," said Smiley.
"Yeah, didn't know you guys would talk to an Overlander." Marshe said it with the same contempt I held for Mobians.
"He's not all that bad," said the frog.
"Yeah, for a fag."
I opened my mouth to protest, but realized it wouldn't do any good. Why the wolf insisted on calling me a homosexual was beyond me, but it was obvious he wouldn't stop. I just hoped nobody would believe him. I get teased for enough things.
"You guys talking about Sonic?" asked Marshe.
"Somewhat. The whole lot of bastards, actually."
"Personally don't care for the spineball, myself," said Marshe. The middle-aged guard whistled. "But the princess, now that's a different story!"
"I'd go for her myself," said Drago. "I'd like to see her in one of these magazines, spread out nice and wide."
I refrained from rolling my eyes. Would I seem gay if I didn't agree? I just didn't believe in porn. It was degrading to women, demeaning... Funny, I could be cruel and condescending to any and all in Robotropolis, but I would never single someone out because they were a woman...
Marshe was wagging his finger at Drago. "Now, now wolfie, that's not gonna happen. The princess spreading for anyone, it'd be me, not your dirty mags."
Smiley shook his head. "Knock it off, ya two. The princess isn't a whore. She's our leader, and ya should treat her like one."
We all just looked at him. Funny to see such a dick-headed man having a softspot for the little princess.
"Aww, yer just gay," said Drago.
The frog laughed.
Marshe took a ring of keys out of his pocket. "We didn't come around just to chat. It's potty time!"
He opened Drago's cell and led the wolf off to the bathroom, I assume. I realized then how much I had to go; my stomach was cramping up and I felt suddenly panicky in that Oh-my-God-I-have-to-piss way. I must've missed the bathroom break last night; I fell asleep early.
"Hey, Sniv'."
"What?" I turned to the frog, bouncing on my bed a little. I had an almost overwhelming urge to clasp my hands between my legs like a little kid, but resisted.
"That guard, Marshe, he's a big pervert, man. You gotta show him whose boss or he'll totally mess with ya."
"What do you mean?" I frowned.
"He'll try and grope ya."
I frowned deeper.
"I showed him though, man. Totally whooped his ass. He tried to grab my crown jewels..." I turned away from him, while he happily babbled on.
"Hey now," said Smiley. "Marshe don't do that."
"...kicked him right in the nuts, he went flying..." The frog laughed. "Stop lying, Smiles, you know I'm telling the truth."
"No, ya ain't!" The guard shot back.
Marshe was coming back, so the frog and Smiley shut up. He opened my cell door, beckoning with a broad hand and a smile. I walked out, feeling his presence too close to me as he led me down to the bathroom.
As I walked, I observed the scenery. Rows of cells, some full. A long stretch of hallway, what appeared to be stairs at the end. There was a side hallway coming up. I could feel Marshe's breath on the back of my neck.
Wonder if I can outrun him. I certainly can't outfight him. Can't outfight anybody, really, but then again he was bigger and stronger than me, as was everyone. I'd have to fight with every ounce of strength to get away from him, and even then, it wouldn't be enough.
We turned down the side hallway, and there were several doors. He led me through one and into a cruddy bathroom.
I nearly ran to the toilet (there were no urinals) with my need to relieve myself. I unzipped my grayish-blue prison uniform to the navel, and then stopped.
He was leaning against the wall, staring at me. I gave him one of those 'do you mind' looks, but he didn't turn away.
My teeth clenched, and I almost whimpered with frustration. I can't piss with him watching...but I can't hold it any longer.
"Go ahead," he said. A smile crept onto his face.
"Turn around," I said.
"No."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"That's right, you're not. Not until you take a piss." He turned on one of the faucets. The sound of the water rushing into the sink almost drove me mad, and I gritted my teeth in a very apparent effort not to wet my pants.
"C'mon boy, I know you gotta go. You missed your break last night."
"You can't just turn around? I swear, I'm not going to try to escape."
"I don't care about that. You can't get away from me."
"Then quit staring at me."
"No." The smile, all quirky and irritating, widened.
I realized then that Flying Frog was right. He was a pervert. He wanted to watch. Would he try and grope me, as the frog had said?
I sighed, giving in to my body. I unzipped my uniform the rest of the way, and did my business, doing my damnedest not to give him any peek-a-boos.
He reached over as I finished, pressing the little button on the toilets. The water sucked down the toilet at an incredible speed. You could lose your hand to that suction. New water flowed in.
I zipped my suit up fast, not wanting to get groped.
"Cute tool," he said.
"Excuse me?" I moved to the sink. The soap was a goopy pink liquid. I rubbed it over my hands, washing each finger individually. I'm a clean freak...so what?
"Cute tool," he repeated.
I rinsed my hands off and dried them on a napkin.
"Cute enough to touch," he said. He took a step towards me.
My eyes widened uncontrollably. I'm afraid of attack. I am not the world's greatest fighter. If I had my laser pistol, I could blow this fellow's little toe off with him standing fifty feet away. But I didn't have it.
'Show him whose boss', the frog had said. I clenched my fists. I couldn't beat him, but I was not getting groped without a fight.
"Aw, calm down," he snickered. "I ain't gonna do nothing. Was just scaring you a little."
And he led me out of the bathroom and back to my cell. Where I must say, I was actually happy to be.
"So, who caught ya?" asked Drago.
"Me? It was that skunk fellow."
"Eh, that's Geoffrey," said the wolf. "I hate him. A big jerk, that one."
And you aren't? I thought.
"Guess who got me in here? My bitch. I treated that hoe like a queen, and she turned on me. Frickin' bitch. I owe her big time."
"Your own girlfriend?" I laughed.
"Shut yer trap, cueball." Drago stood up and picked up his nighttable. He threw it around, trying to show off his muscles. "Look at this shit. I'm gonna mess her up when I get her. I can mess ya up too."
I wasn't really impressed. But I realized, maybe I should work out a little. I looked around, saw my two thick novels. They were pretty heavy. I hefted them up, one in each hand. They made good weights.
Drago watched me lift the books and scoffed. "Surprised ya can lift anythan."
"I have some muscle," I protested.
"Sure."
"I do."
"Show us then."
"No." I sat down on the bed.
"Aw, c'mon."
"No thanks."
"C'MON! Won't stop bugging ya until ya dooo!"
"Fine," I sighed. I hiked up my sleeves and flexed what little bicep I had.
"HA! Ya call that a muscle?! That's like a little bump er somethan'." He smiled as I glared. "Eh, don't feel so bad. It was more than I expected. Now show us yer legs. It ain't just arms that are important. It's everythan, baby." He stood on one leg and thrust the other out, pointing his toe so the muscles hardened under his tight uniform.
So I showed off my legs, feeling a little embarrassed. They were nicely muscled, but nothing compared to the almighty Drago. Still, the wolf gave a little whistle. "Guess ya ran around a lot."
"Yes," I said.
"What about yer belly?" He unzipped his grays to show one of those torsos that rippled with muscles and a nice six-pack.
"I'm not showing that."
"Skin and bone, eh?"
"Besides running around, I got trained a little by Commander Packbell," I said.
"Eh, really? That's that android bastard, right?"
I nodded.
"Hmph, what's he like?"
"He's a bastard, as you said. Big, tall. Not as muscled as you, but," I shrugged, "he didn't need it. He was much stronger than he looked."
"Not stronger than me," scoffed the wolf.
"Yes he was."
The wolf snorted, but I continued...starting to fall into memories as I talked. Pretty soon, I wasn't even talking anymore, and Drago and Flying Frog quickly turned their attentions back to their magazines.
Packbell...hmmm. What is there to say about Packbell? So much. There's so damn much. And at the same time, so damn little.
I HATE Packbell. I hate him so much. Every time I saw him, I'd start to tremble; my hatred was so deep, I just couldn't contain it.
When Robotnik first unveiled Packbell, I thought it was nifty. I thought it would reduce some of the work I had, and I thought it'd be someone to talk to. I should've known better.
I've seen androids before, and some of them I've seen were so confused. They realized they were made, not born, and it hurt them. They didn't know what to do. They thought they weren't real. It was sad really, because being born of a mother is something you don't think about. You take it for granted. To know you were created...molded and wired and your personality is just something that somebody made up...
But Packbell wasn't like them...he knew he wasn't real...but he didn't care. He didn't care if he was just a machine, because he saw himself as superior to everything.
In a way, he was.
Robotnik made Packbell handsome. But Robotnik wasn't phased by Packbell's beauty, because Robotnik thought round was the perfect shape. And Robotnik certainly was a big fat circle.
Packbell had silky black hair and red eyes, a small nose and perfect silvery teeth, and fair skin. His frame was tall and lean, and rock-hard. He didn't need to be bulked out with muscle. He was stronger than any human could possibly be.
I wasn't jealous. He was beautiful, he was tall. He was loved by Robotnik, while I was treated like trash. But I wasn't jealous. I was just resentful.
It was Packbell's personality I hated. And perhaps that fueled my hatred of Robotnik at the same time, because Julian's the one who created Packbell's fucked-up mind.
Packbell was programmed to be wicked. He was more than wicked though. He was sadistic, cruel, evil... he was anti-love, anti-life. Packbell's main joy in life was tormenting others. He got off on it. Nothing was funnier to him than some poor soul screaming in agony. Prisoners who were once arrogant and strong were reduced to whimpering babies after a session with him.
Needless to say, I wasn't exactly comfortable when Packbell was around. One of his hobbies was irritating the shit out of me. Fortunately it didn't usually go beyond just irritating...but there were a few times when Packbell had really hurt me. Reprimands from Robotnik didn't seem to phase Packbell; any chance he got to torment me, he took it.
My eyelids were getting heavy and I snuggled up on the bed, getting as comfortable as possible.
But my dreams were hardly pleasant...
It wasn't only a dream, but a memory.
What was I doing? Ah yes...working in my lab. Some experiment or another. I was typing out the results, playing a nice soft classical piece on my mini-stereo.
I heard the door slide open, and turned in my chair. The Commander had entered and just stood for a second, looking around. Under one arm he held a small round dartboard. I saw the tips of darts sticking out of his breast pocket.
"Hey Snively-ively, do you mind if I play a game of darts in here?"
"Uh..." I looked at him, wary and surprised. "I'm trying to work, actually. Go play it somewhere else."
"I want to play it HERE," he said, with all the insistence of a bratty toddler.
"I said no, Packbell, now leave me alone." I turned back to my keyboard. The android was apparently hard of hearing; he stuck the magnetic-backed dartboard to the wall.
I heard the thuds of darts as they hit the board.
"Packbell, I thought I told you...what the hell?"
The android smirked, throwing another dart. It struck the dartboard, where there was a picture pinned up by another dart. A picture of...me.
"Very funny. Don't you have work to do?"
"No. Besides, I AM working."
I sighed and turned back to my keyboard. Fine, he could just throw darts at a picture of me all he wanted. As long as he didn't get in my way.
My fingers flew over the keys at a furious pace. I wanted to get this data compiled and printed out; I was actually eager to turn the report in to Robotnik. Minutes passed quickly. I stopped to scan my work for typos.
"Hey Snively," came Packbell's voice. I jumped, having forgotten he was there.
"What?" I swiveled my chair around. My gaze moved to my picture. It was full of darts. Packbell was pulling them out of the dartboard.
"I'm ready for the real thing," he said.
He saw the impatience in my eyes and grinned. "Aw, you know what I'm talking about, Needlenose. I've mastered the photo...now I need the real thing."
"What?" I asked, even though I had a bad feeling I knew. Packbell grinned wider; he saw the sweat bead on my forehead, heard my breathing get erratic. Though I could lie about so many other things, I could never pull off concealing my fear.
Fear mixed with Packbell was not a good combination. It was like pouring gasoline on a fire; this fire being Packbell's sadistic nature.
"Look, I'm working," I said, trying to reason with him, "I'm working on something important, and Robotnik won't like it if you bother me. So I suggest you take your little toys and leave."
"Are you threatening me, Snively?" he drawled, the grin widening even more.
"Packbell..."
"Stand against that wall," he said suddenly.
"No."
"C'mon Snivvy, it'll be fun."
"No, leave me alone. I'm not in the mood..."
"You're never in the mood for anything fun, are you?" The android mock-pouted. "But it doesn't matter what YOU want, I'm in charge here."
"I'm higher rank than you," I replied coldly.
"Oh really?" He leaned forward with all the grace of a hunting cat and snatched me out of the chair. Packbell was six foot five, an impressive height. He lifted me high up; I was dangling five feet above the ground. "You care to enforce that rank?!"
What could I say? I WAS higher rank than him. But it didn't matter now. He was stronger than me. There was nothing I could do but just shake my head. Packbell chirped in amusement and set me down.
If I had one wish, it would be to be bigger. Stronger. God, how many situations could I have gotten myself out of if I'd been stronger? There were too many to count.
"Stand against that wall, 'sir'," he said, mocking me. I was higher rank; but it was unspoken fact that he was superior in Robotnik's eyes, in the eyes of the Freedom Fighters...even in my own eyes.
I knew there was no beating him, but I wasn't about to surrender. Hatred does that to you.
He crossed his arms, waiting patiently.
I didn't move.
"Wall." He pointed towards it. "You." He pointed at me. "You. Stand. Against. Wall."
"N.O."
I was raised off my feet again and carried to the wall. He set me down and gave me a shove. I stumbled backwards, my back hitting the smooth metal. My flailing hand hit the dartboard and it fell, striking me in the head. While I groaned about that, I noticed that Packbell had the darts in his hand.
My bad feeling increased. I felt queasy now, my knees felt weak. God, I hate this feeling. It makes me want to die, anything to escape this terrible anxiety. Packbell made it worse, smirking and smiling at me as he took a few steps backwards.
"You make a good target," he said. "I've been wanting to do this for a while. Never got around to it, though. You should be happy; I don't have any work today, that's why I'm here."
I rubbed my head, and glared. "Get out, Packbell. I don't have time for your---"
A dart struck the wall inches from my head. The sharp tip hit the wall and bounced off. It skittered across the metal floor. My shocked gaze followed it until it stopped spinning.
Packbell cursed lightheartedly. "Missed. Oh well. Got plenty of darts, and plenty of time."
I tried to move, but it was too late. He threw another dart, and I felt stabbing pain in my thigh. "OWWWWW!" I howled and clutched at the dart; the long metal tip was buried in my flesh. I pulled it out, watching the blood seep out of the deep puncture and stain my pants.
"Goddamn, Packbell!" I tried to skitter away, but ended up crying on the floor, darts sticking out of my body like porcupine quills.
I heard him laughing, his harsh voice echoing off the walls. Made it sound like there was more than one of him. I groaned at the sound and pulled the darts from my arms and legs.
"Stand up!" He cackled, sounding excited.
I curled up on the floor. He can't hurt me if I'm small...what a stupid thought, but nevertheless it was a thought I often had. The smaller I was, the less I could be hurt. It wasn't true, of course, but it made me feel better.
"Stand up!" he commanded. "Stand up, stand up, stand up!!"
I whimpered out a negative response. He stomped his foot, enjoying the game. "Stand up, Sniv'!"
I remained on the floor.
"Stand up, NOW!" His voice took on a menacing undertone.
"No, leave me alone!" My hands were smeared with blood and my voice was edged with panic.
He chuckled gleefully and pulled me to my feet. "Stand up, Snivvy, c'mon. Spread your arms out, and your legs...like a pinwheel. Yeah, that's it."
A dart glanced off the wall, right between my legs. A few inches up and it would've... I didn't hang around this time. I ran for the door. The android laughed and lunged for me. He missed and I went racing down the hallway. Every step hurt, and sent squirts of blood out of my dart wounds.
I heard his footsteps behind me and increased my pace. He was giggling and snorting with glee; obviously not trying hard to catch me. If he was really out to get me, he would've caught up with me in two seconds flat.
"AHHGOD!" The scream broke from my throat; there was a stabbing pain in my calf muscle. I stumbled and briefly considered just giving up and laying there, letting him do what he wanted. Another stab of pain, this time in my shoulder. Hurt extra bad because it glanced off the bone of my shoulderblade. The pain triggered my hatred which triggered me to keep running.
"Where are you going, Sniv? Don't you want to play anymore?" Packbell's taunting voice floated after me.
I stumbled into the wall, shrieking in pain. Packbell had a mean aim; he'd thrown a dart right at my ass. It hurt like hell. I pulled it out and threw it down the hallway at the approaching android. He batted it away with a nonchalant hand and stopped in front of me.
"Get away from me!" I whined. I pressed myself against the wall. The Commander just smiled down at me.
"You got blood on your uniform, tsk tsk." He wagged his finger at me. I reached down and pulled the dart out of my calf, and clutched it in my hand as a weapon.
He reached for me and I stabbed at his hand with the dart. He just laughed and pried it out of my hand.
"Play nice," he crooned. I was grabbed up, kicking and screaming, and brought back to the lab. This time I didn't get away.
"NOOO!" I jerked awake, nearly falling out of bed. I felt dizzy and leaned back against the wall. I blew out a big breath of relief...the dream was over. That horrid dream...that horrid memory.
I wondered if I'd been whining in my sleep. I looked around, but Drago and Flying Frog weren't in their cells.
Hmmm...wonder where they went. No matter. I examined the back wall, pushing against it, trying to find any weakness. There was none.
I tried the front bars of my cell. I managed to squeeze my narrow shoulder through, but my head wouldn't fit. Damn. No way out.
There were footsteps down the hall. Drago and Flying Frog were coming back. Drago was smacking his lips. They must've just ate...damn. I missed dinner.
My stomach growled loudly. "Why didn't I get dinner?" I demanded of Smiley.
Marshe answered for him. "After the first day, you outta know the schedule. You snooze, you lose."
"But I'm hungry," I whined.
"Too bad."
They walked off.
I sat down on the bed, feeling sorry for myself.
Drago picked up his magazine and flipped it open to a page. He stood looking at it for a moment, then thrust it up against the bars between his cell and mine.
"I bet ya'd like to eat this," he said.
I looked over and found myself looking between some naked girl's legs. My lip curled up in disgust and I turned away.
Drago laughed.
I hated that empty feeling in my belly, but what could I do? I opened up 'The Terrible Rage' and tried to ignore the occasional rumbling.
Her smile was flat, not colored by any happy emotion. "Casey is a coward," she said, speaking to Val as if Casey wasn't right there, standing and frowning at her voice.
"And a fool. He doesn't see what's right in front of him. Rebecca loves him. It's practically written out on her forehead." She finally addressed Casey. "She would die for you, you know."
"You're lying," said Casey. "She can't love me. I don't even pay attention to her! I don't even treat her nice!"
I looked up for a moment, frowning. It'd been nagging at me throughout my reading of this book; this Rebecca character acted a lot like my cousin, Devon.
I closed the book, marking my place with a dog-ear. My head rested on my hands as I thought a little bit about Devon.
Devon was younger than me by three years. She has green-blue eyes, very pretty, and long reddish-orange hair that reaches to her knees. As long as I can remember, she's worn it the same way. She puts it in a ponytail, with just a long chunk of bangs in the middle of her forehead. She has a fine body...those full hips, those legs, nicely muscled, her breasts...
I bit down on my lip. Shouldn't be thinking that way about her...
Her personality was pleasant enough, if not a bit stubborn. She wasn't exactly outgoing, but wasn't shy either. She always spoke her mind, even though she should've held her tongue sometimes. She was strong though, much stronger than me, even though she was tiny.
Devon was strange in one way...she was in love. With me. Or so she says...
Dev moved to Mobius around the same time as my family. We came to Mobius to escape World War 4...and ended up in the midst of Mobius's Great War. Eventually her parents were killed by Acorn soldiers. I guess it was an accident; the animals thought they were Overlanders. Mind you, the Overlanders weren't every human on Mobius. Just the group that rebelled. But the name has come to mean the human species itself.
So, after the death of her parents, Devon and her annoying sister DaSilva came to live with us. I was fine with it. My father adored those two. Took his mind off me...which meant I got beaten less.
Devon always seemed fond of me, but I never knew how fond until she started, for lack of a better phrase, coming on to me. She was always grabbing at me, smiling and laughing, even asking me to be her date for school dances and such. I thought she was crazy, so I never took her up on her offers.
I closed my eyes, remembering a time when she was obviously displeased with my choice of a date. Laura Malkovitch. She was the cheerleader type. She was very beautiful, very luscious, and very envied...
I was in my room, feeling pretty good about myself. I had just landed myself a date with Ms. Beauty herself. Of course, I'd helped her on her science project, and knew this was just her way of paying my back. After that, I doubted she'd have anything to do with me. But still, I felt lucky.
My door flew open. I turned fearfully, expecting to see my father, but it was Devon. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her cheeks flushed. "Tell me it's not true," she said.
"What's not true?" I asked.
"You aren't going out with Laura?"
"Yes, so what?"
I watched as her fingernails dug into her arms. Why the hell was she so mad...?
"I asked you to that dance."
"For your information, Devon, we aren't going to the dance...and besides, I wouldn't have gone with you anyway."
The nails dug deeper. "Why not?"
"Uhh...maybe because you're my cousin...?"
"So what." She said it as a statement, not a question.
"So what...don't you think that's just a tad weird?"
"No."
"You're so damn crazy. Get out of here. I don't know who you think you are, always barging in here."
"Oh well, excuuuse me," she snapped, coming further into the room. "But you know what? You make me wanna explode. I can't take it. I CAN'T!!" She picked up a chair and threw it with such force that it scared me. I was honestly shaken, and I backed away and sat on the bed.
She turned to look at me, her normally bright eyes smoldering over.
"You piss me off," she said.
I just stared at her.
"You really piss me off," she repeated. Now her fists clenched and she took a step towards me.
She grabbed my shoulders, her long nails digging in. I met her furious eyes. Her anger swirled in the depths, like sand stirred up on the bottom of a lake. It frightened me. Then she grabbed my hair roughly and yanked my face towards hers.
Her lips...they touched against mine, and then her tongue was inside my mouth. I jumped in surprise and almost pulled away, but she had my hair tight in her grip and I was immobile.
I felt her tongue, tickling against mine, rubbing against my teeth, flicking against the roof of my mouth. It made me almost dizzy. I felt weird shivers in my belly, and then I felt myself...
Devon shoved me away. "You prick," she said.
I grabbed my pillow to hide my lap.
"You wouldn't get that if you didn't care," she snarled.
"I can't help getting it," I said. "It just happened. I don't control it."
"It controls you, right? IS THAT IT? IS THAT WHY YOU BETRAYED ME!?"
"I DON'T BELONG TO YOU!" I screamed back. "I AM NOT COMMITED TO YOU IN ANY WAY, DEVON!! GET THAT THROUGH YOUR THICK SKULL!"
She grabbed the water glass off my nighttable and threw it at me. I put my hands up to shield my face; it struck me in the arm and glanced off. I heard the shatter as it hit the floor.
I got up and smacked her.
She put her hand up to her cheek, looking shocked. Then she smacked me back, snapping my head hard to the side. The classic 'girl slaps bastard' kind of smack.
I brought my head back slowly and glared directly into her eyes. "I'm going on a date with Laura. And there's nothing you can do about it."
"I hate you," she said. She whirled to leave. I could hear her breath puffing out in anger and in that moment, I knew it was just the opposite.
I raised my head off my arms. How angry she'd been that day. How beautiful she looked when she was angry. And the kiss...I still remembered it. It was one of the most amazing things I'd ever experienced.
I sighed and was about to sit up on the bed when I realized something. I felt it pressing into the mattress. For God's sake, I had a hard-on. I rarely got them, not being one to really waste my time thinking of sex.
I squirmed a little on the bed, and let out a quiet sigh, because it did feel quite nice...
I looked stealthily over to Flying Frog, then to Drago. They seemed engrossed in their magazines. Good.
I wiggled my lower body as discreetly as possible. I felt so foolish, but the pleasant sensations were too nice to stop.
Wiggled harder, harder. The feeling was building up in my belly...I fought to keep my breathing steady. Barely aware of my fingers digging hard into my thin blanket...
Oh Godd...Goddd...
I buried my head in my arms, biting my lip hard to keep from making noise. My toes strained and stretched and I felt warmth between my legs, a pleasant wet warmth...
I raised my head up a few minutes later. My cheeks felt flushed.
Drago looked over at me.
"Guess you did get porn after all," he said.
I have as much rage as you have
I have as much pain as you do
I've lived as much hell as you have
And I've kept mine bubbling under for you
---Alanis Morrisette "Sympathetic Character"
The next day I awoke around 8:00. It was late by my usual standards. In Robotropolis, I was usually up at 6:00. It was kind of unnecessary. There usually wasn't that much work to do, but Robotnik expected me to be up before sunrise, and so I was.
I closed my eyes, sprawling out lazily on the bed. At least I could relax here. Unlike that city. How hard I worked there. Getting up early every morning, working all day, sometimes all night. Robotnik kept me working constantly. It wasn't always important things either. When there wasn't much going on, he made me compile and write stupid reports.
In my free time, I didn't usually relax. I had my own work, which mainly included plotting against ole Uncle Julian.
Robotnik thought I was conniving. He didn't trust me. Which was one reason he treated me so badly. But I wasn't crafty at first. As the abuse got worse, I realized I had to get rid of him. So I became what he thought I was; conniving, backstabbing, a double-crosser.
There were times I almost got caught. It was terrifying. Robotnik's eyes would get all crazed, and he would get ready to hurt and maim my poor poor body. But I always managed to get out of it. I was really a superb liar. That, combined with my groveling, was usually enough to get my feet out of the grave.
Then, Robotnik came up with that 'Ultimate Annihilator' idea. At first, I was actually excited about it. Knothole would be destroyed! Mobius would finally be ours...well, Julian's anyway.
Robotnik was thrilled at the prospect of a leveled Knothole. He actually treated me better in the days following the machine's completion.
I had a few sleepless nights that week...I admit it. I wondered what would happen if Robotnik used the machine, and destroyed Knothole. Would he treat me better? Or would it be the same? Should I tweak the machine, make it destroy Robotnik? If I didn't, then my chance was gone.
But finally, I did go through with it. The machine was being created in one of Robotnik's labs. I created a loop tape, and installed it in the surveillance camera in the lab. It looped an empty room, over and over...because if Robotnik saw me on the surveillance tapes, tinkering with his 'baby', he'd have me slaughtered.
I was not caught. I did my 'adjustments' on select nights; nights when Robotnik was sleeping, and Packbell was in his lab way on the other side of the city.
The day Robotnik used it, I was floating on a haze made by my painkillers and alcohol mixed; I knew I shouldn't do that... But if the machine didn't work, if Robotnik wasn't killed...would he notice something was wrong? Would he suspect me? I figured if I was going to be beaten to death, I misewell numb myself to the pain...
But all went well, for me, anyway. Robotnik, and Packbell too, I suspect, were both 'blown to hell' as Nack had said.
But then, those monsters, those furry brats...they came. They took it all away. My ultimate dream, snatched right from my hands...by a couple of kids! They came in, and I, still woozy from my 'celebrating', was too stupid in the head to stop them.
The big skunk freedom fighter caught me with some net. I knew I was captured, perhaps heading to my trial (and inevitable death) in Knothole, but I was too wasted to care. I insulted the princess, laughed as the skunk slung me over his shoulder and headed away from the city.
But now...I can't laugh.
"Ya know what I would do to her?" Drago was talking across my cell to Flying Frog. He was holding his porn magazine in his hand.
"What?" asked the frog.
"I'd open up them legs, nice and slow. Suck on her toes a little, women, they like that."
"Lick her up like an ice cream sundae," chuckled the frog.
"Yeah!" Drago laughed and ran his hand up and down the bars separating his cell from mine.
"Do you mind?" I growled. The wolf was practically yelling in my ear.
"What's yer problem, cueball?" The wolf flipped through his magazine, then regarded me with a sneer.
"Yeah, why you flippin' out? Just wake up and BAM! You're all cranky."
I should ignore them. They're obviously below me. Heathens, really. But am I really any better? How stupid. Of course I am. I'm human...they're animals. Just silly talking animals.
I shouldn't talk to them. Inferior species didn't deserve to converse...oh hell. Arrogance is not the way to go when you're stuck in a cell for God knows how long...
"I was just thinking," I said.
"What about?"
"The rebels."
"You mean the Freedom Fighters."
"Yes. I hate them. I want to kill them for what they did..."
Drago snarled. "Yeah, they suck. I want to strangle all of 'em." He clenched his huge fists.
"Me too!" chimed in the overly optimistic frog. "They're the ones that put me in here."
"There's a certain bitch I need to pay back," the wolf hissed. His hands clenched on the bars, shaking them.
I leaned back on the bed, resting my head against the wall. "I was so close to having Robotropolis. Do you know what that's like? To be that close, and have it taken away..."
Drago sat cross-legged on his bed. It sagged under his heavy weight. "I do know what ya mean. That Robotnik promised me a portion of Robotropolis."
"Oh, did he?" I turned my head to look at him. "You wouldn't have gotten it, either way. If he lived, he wouldn't have given it to you, and I certainly wouldn't give it to you."
"Puh," he snorted. "And why not?"
"Because you're a moron. That part of the city would be in shambles within a week."
"Puh," said the wolf again. "I would've built that baby up, built some kickass weapons, and wiped out them little brats. That bitch too."
"Hey, hey, what's all this noise?" The two main guards, Marshe and Smiley appeared in the hallway.
"Sounds like our newbie is blending in well," said Smiley.
"Yeah, didn't know you guys would talk to an Overlander." Marshe said it with the same contempt I held for Mobians.
"He's not all that bad," said the frog.
"Yeah, for a fag."
I opened my mouth to protest, but realized it wouldn't do any good. Why the wolf insisted on calling me a homosexual was beyond me, but it was obvious he wouldn't stop. I just hoped nobody would believe him. I get teased for enough things.
"You guys talking about Sonic?" asked Marshe.
"Somewhat. The whole lot of bastards, actually."
"Personally don't care for the spineball, myself," said Marshe. The middle-aged guard whistled. "But the princess, now that's a different story!"
"I'd go for her myself," said Drago. "I'd like to see her in one of these magazines, spread out nice and wide."
I refrained from rolling my eyes. Would I seem gay if I didn't agree? I just didn't believe in porn. It was degrading to women, demeaning... Funny, I could be cruel and condescending to any and all in Robotropolis, but I would never single someone out because they were a woman...
Marshe was wagging his finger at Drago. "Now, now wolfie, that's not gonna happen. The princess spreading for anyone, it'd be me, not your dirty mags."
Smiley shook his head. "Knock it off, ya two. The princess isn't a whore. She's our leader, and ya should treat her like one."
We all just looked at him. Funny to see such a dick-headed man having a softspot for the little princess.
"Aww, yer just gay," said Drago.
The frog laughed.
Marshe took a ring of keys out of his pocket. "We didn't come around just to chat. It's potty time!"
He opened Drago's cell and led the wolf off to the bathroom, I assume. I realized then how much I had to go; my stomach was cramping up and I felt suddenly panicky in that Oh-my-God-I-have-to-piss way. I must've missed the bathroom break last night; I fell asleep early.
"Hey, Sniv'."
"What?" I turned to the frog, bouncing on my bed a little. I had an almost overwhelming urge to clasp my hands between my legs like a little kid, but resisted.
"That guard, Marshe, he's a big pervert, man. You gotta show him whose boss or he'll totally mess with ya."
"What do you mean?" I frowned.
"He'll try and grope ya."
I frowned deeper.
"I showed him though, man. Totally whooped his ass. He tried to grab my crown jewels..." I turned away from him, while he happily babbled on.
"Hey now," said Smiley. "Marshe don't do that."
"...kicked him right in the nuts, he went flying..." The frog laughed. "Stop lying, Smiles, you know I'm telling the truth."
"No, ya ain't!" The guard shot back.
Marshe was coming back, so the frog and Smiley shut up. He opened my cell door, beckoning with a broad hand and a smile. I walked out, feeling his presence too close to me as he led me down to the bathroom.
As I walked, I observed the scenery. Rows of cells, some full. A long stretch of hallway, what appeared to be stairs at the end. There was a side hallway coming up. I could feel Marshe's breath on the back of my neck.
Wonder if I can outrun him. I certainly can't outfight him. Can't outfight anybody, really, but then again he was bigger and stronger than me, as was everyone. I'd have to fight with every ounce of strength to get away from him, and even then, it wouldn't be enough.
We turned down the side hallway, and there were several doors. He led me through one and into a cruddy bathroom.
I nearly ran to the toilet (there were no urinals) with my need to relieve myself. I unzipped my grayish-blue prison uniform to the navel, and then stopped.
He was leaning against the wall, staring at me. I gave him one of those 'do you mind' looks, but he didn't turn away.
My teeth clenched, and I almost whimpered with frustration. I can't piss with him watching...but I can't hold it any longer.
"Go ahead," he said. A smile crept onto his face.
"Turn around," I said.
"No."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"That's right, you're not. Not until you take a piss." He turned on one of the faucets. The sound of the water rushing into the sink almost drove me mad, and I gritted my teeth in a very apparent effort not to wet my pants.
"C'mon boy, I know you gotta go. You missed your break last night."
"You can't just turn around? I swear, I'm not going to try to escape."
"I don't care about that. You can't get away from me."
"Then quit staring at me."
"No." The smile, all quirky and irritating, widened.
I realized then that Flying Frog was right. He was a pervert. He wanted to watch. Would he try and grope me, as the frog had said?
I sighed, giving in to my body. I unzipped my uniform the rest of the way, and did my business, doing my damnedest not to give him any peek-a-boos.
He reached over as I finished, pressing the little button on the toilets. The water sucked down the toilet at an incredible speed. You could lose your hand to that suction. New water flowed in.
I zipped my suit up fast, not wanting to get groped.
"Cute tool," he said.
"Excuse me?" I moved to the sink. The soap was a goopy pink liquid. I rubbed it over my hands, washing each finger individually. I'm a clean freak...so what?
"Cute tool," he repeated.
I rinsed my hands off and dried them on a napkin.
"Cute enough to touch," he said. He took a step towards me.
My eyes widened uncontrollably. I'm afraid of attack. I am not the world's greatest fighter. If I had my laser pistol, I could blow this fellow's little toe off with him standing fifty feet away. But I didn't have it.
'Show him whose boss', the frog had said. I clenched my fists. I couldn't beat him, but I was not getting groped without a fight.
"Aw, calm down," he snickered. "I ain't gonna do nothing. Was just scaring you a little."
And he led me out of the bathroom and back to my cell. Where I must say, I was actually happy to be.
"So, who caught ya?" asked Drago.
"Me? It was that skunk fellow."
"Eh, that's Geoffrey," said the wolf. "I hate him. A big jerk, that one."
And you aren't? I thought.
"Guess who got me in here? My bitch. I treated that hoe like a queen, and she turned on me. Frickin' bitch. I owe her big time."
"Your own girlfriend?" I laughed.
"Shut yer trap, cueball." Drago stood up and picked up his nighttable. He threw it around, trying to show off his muscles. "Look at this shit. I'm gonna mess her up when I get her. I can mess ya up too."
I wasn't really impressed. But I realized, maybe I should work out a little. I looked around, saw my two thick novels. They were pretty heavy. I hefted them up, one in each hand. They made good weights.
Drago watched me lift the books and scoffed. "Surprised ya can lift anythan."
"I have some muscle," I protested.
"Sure."
"I do."
"Show us then."
"No." I sat down on the bed.
"Aw, c'mon."
"No thanks."
"C'MON! Won't stop bugging ya until ya dooo!"
"Fine," I sighed. I hiked up my sleeves and flexed what little bicep I had.
"HA! Ya call that a muscle?! That's like a little bump er somethan'." He smiled as I glared. "Eh, don't feel so bad. It was more than I expected. Now show us yer legs. It ain't just arms that are important. It's everythan, baby." He stood on one leg and thrust the other out, pointing his toe so the muscles hardened under his tight uniform.
So I showed off my legs, feeling a little embarrassed. They were nicely muscled, but nothing compared to the almighty Drago. Still, the wolf gave a little whistle. "Guess ya ran around a lot."
"Yes," I said.
"What about yer belly?" He unzipped his grays to show one of those torsos that rippled with muscles and a nice six-pack.
"I'm not showing that."
"Skin and bone, eh?"
"Besides running around, I got trained a little by Commander Packbell," I said.
"Eh, really? That's that android bastard, right?"
I nodded.
"Hmph, what's he like?"
"He's a bastard, as you said. Big, tall. Not as muscled as you, but," I shrugged, "he didn't need it. He was much stronger than he looked."
"Not stronger than me," scoffed the wolf.
"Yes he was."
The wolf snorted, but I continued...starting to fall into memories as I talked. Pretty soon, I wasn't even talking anymore, and Drago and Flying Frog quickly turned their attentions back to their magazines.
Packbell...hmmm. What is there to say about Packbell? So much. There's so damn much. And at the same time, so damn little.
I HATE Packbell. I hate him so much. Every time I saw him, I'd start to tremble; my hatred was so deep, I just couldn't contain it.
When Robotnik first unveiled Packbell, I thought it was nifty. I thought it would reduce some of the work I had, and I thought it'd be someone to talk to. I should've known better.
I've seen androids before, and some of them I've seen were so confused. They realized they were made, not born, and it hurt them. They didn't know what to do. They thought they weren't real. It was sad really, because being born of a mother is something you don't think about. You take it for granted. To know you were created...molded and wired and your personality is just something that somebody made up...
But Packbell wasn't like them...he knew he wasn't real...but he didn't care. He didn't care if he was just a machine, because he saw himself as superior to everything.
In a way, he was.
Robotnik made Packbell handsome. But Robotnik wasn't phased by Packbell's beauty, because Robotnik thought round was the perfect shape. And Robotnik certainly was a big fat circle.
Packbell had silky black hair and red eyes, a small nose and perfect silvery teeth, and fair skin. His frame was tall and lean, and rock-hard. He didn't need to be bulked out with muscle. He was stronger than any human could possibly be.
I wasn't jealous. He was beautiful, he was tall. He was loved by Robotnik, while I was treated like trash. But I wasn't jealous. I was just resentful.
It was Packbell's personality I hated. And perhaps that fueled my hatred of Robotnik at the same time, because Julian's the one who created Packbell's fucked-up mind.
Packbell was programmed to be wicked. He was more than wicked though. He was sadistic, cruel, evil... he was anti-love, anti-life. Packbell's main joy in life was tormenting others. He got off on it. Nothing was funnier to him than some poor soul screaming in agony. Prisoners who were once arrogant and strong were reduced to whimpering babies after a session with him.
Needless to say, I wasn't exactly comfortable when Packbell was around. One of his hobbies was irritating the shit out of me. Fortunately it didn't usually go beyond just irritating...but there were a few times when Packbell had really hurt me. Reprimands from Robotnik didn't seem to phase Packbell; any chance he got to torment me, he took it.
My eyelids were getting heavy and I snuggled up on the bed, getting as comfortable as possible.
But my dreams were hardly pleasant...
It wasn't only a dream, but a memory.
What was I doing? Ah yes...working in my lab. Some experiment or another. I was typing out the results, playing a nice soft classical piece on my mini-stereo.
I heard the door slide open, and turned in my chair. The Commander had entered and just stood for a second, looking around. Under one arm he held a small round dartboard. I saw the tips of darts sticking out of his breast pocket.
"Hey Snively-ively, do you mind if I play a game of darts in here?"
"Uh..." I looked at him, wary and surprised. "I'm trying to work, actually. Go play it somewhere else."
"I want to play it HERE," he said, with all the insistence of a bratty toddler.
"I said no, Packbell, now leave me alone." I turned back to my keyboard. The android was apparently hard of hearing; he stuck the magnetic-backed dartboard to the wall.
I heard the thuds of darts as they hit the board.
"Packbell, I thought I told you...what the hell?"
The android smirked, throwing another dart. It struck the dartboard, where there was a picture pinned up by another dart. A picture of...me.
"Very funny. Don't you have work to do?"
"No. Besides, I AM working."
I sighed and turned back to my keyboard. Fine, he could just throw darts at a picture of me all he wanted. As long as he didn't get in my way.
My fingers flew over the keys at a furious pace. I wanted to get this data compiled and printed out; I was actually eager to turn the report in to Robotnik. Minutes passed quickly. I stopped to scan my work for typos.
"Hey Snively," came Packbell's voice. I jumped, having forgotten he was there.
"What?" I swiveled my chair around. My gaze moved to my picture. It was full of darts. Packbell was pulling them out of the dartboard.
"I'm ready for the real thing," he said.
He saw the impatience in my eyes and grinned. "Aw, you know what I'm talking about, Needlenose. I've mastered the photo...now I need the real thing."
"What?" I asked, even though I had a bad feeling I knew. Packbell grinned wider; he saw the sweat bead on my forehead, heard my breathing get erratic. Though I could lie about so many other things, I could never pull off concealing my fear.
Fear mixed with Packbell was not a good combination. It was like pouring gasoline on a fire; this fire being Packbell's sadistic nature.
"Look, I'm working," I said, trying to reason with him, "I'm working on something important, and Robotnik won't like it if you bother me. So I suggest you take your little toys and leave."
"Are you threatening me, Snively?" he drawled, the grin widening even more.
"Packbell..."
"Stand against that wall," he said suddenly.
"No."
"C'mon Snivvy, it'll be fun."
"No, leave me alone. I'm not in the mood..."
"You're never in the mood for anything fun, are you?" The android mock-pouted. "But it doesn't matter what YOU want, I'm in charge here."
"I'm higher rank than you," I replied coldly.
"Oh really?" He leaned forward with all the grace of a hunting cat and snatched me out of the chair. Packbell was six foot five, an impressive height. He lifted me high up; I was dangling five feet above the ground. "You care to enforce that rank?!"
What could I say? I WAS higher rank than him. But it didn't matter now. He was stronger than me. There was nothing I could do but just shake my head. Packbell chirped in amusement and set me down.
If I had one wish, it would be to be bigger. Stronger. God, how many situations could I have gotten myself out of if I'd been stronger? There were too many to count.
"Stand against that wall, 'sir'," he said, mocking me. I was higher rank; but it was unspoken fact that he was superior in Robotnik's eyes, in the eyes of the Freedom Fighters...even in my own eyes.
I knew there was no beating him, but I wasn't about to surrender. Hatred does that to you.
He crossed his arms, waiting patiently.
I didn't move.
"Wall." He pointed towards it. "You." He pointed at me. "You. Stand. Against. Wall."
"N.O."
I was raised off my feet again and carried to the wall. He set me down and gave me a shove. I stumbled backwards, my back hitting the smooth metal. My flailing hand hit the dartboard and it fell, striking me in the head. While I groaned about that, I noticed that Packbell had the darts in his hand.
My bad feeling increased. I felt queasy now, my knees felt weak. God, I hate this feeling. It makes me want to die, anything to escape this terrible anxiety. Packbell made it worse, smirking and smiling at me as he took a few steps backwards.
"You make a good target," he said. "I've been wanting to do this for a while. Never got around to it, though. You should be happy; I don't have any work today, that's why I'm here."
I rubbed my head, and glared. "Get out, Packbell. I don't have time for your---"
A dart struck the wall inches from my head. The sharp tip hit the wall and bounced off. It skittered across the metal floor. My shocked gaze followed it until it stopped spinning.
Packbell cursed lightheartedly. "Missed. Oh well. Got plenty of darts, and plenty of time."
I tried to move, but it was too late. He threw another dart, and I felt stabbing pain in my thigh. "OWWWWW!" I howled and clutched at the dart; the long metal tip was buried in my flesh. I pulled it out, watching the blood seep out of the deep puncture and stain my pants.
"Goddamn, Packbell!" I tried to skitter away, but ended up crying on the floor, darts sticking out of my body like porcupine quills.
I heard him laughing, his harsh voice echoing off the walls. Made it sound like there was more than one of him. I groaned at the sound and pulled the darts from my arms and legs.
"Stand up!" He cackled, sounding excited.
I curled up on the floor. He can't hurt me if I'm small...what a stupid thought, but nevertheless it was a thought I often had. The smaller I was, the less I could be hurt. It wasn't true, of course, but it made me feel better.
"Stand up!" he commanded. "Stand up, stand up, stand up!!"
I whimpered out a negative response. He stomped his foot, enjoying the game. "Stand up, Sniv'!"
I remained on the floor.
"Stand up, NOW!" His voice took on a menacing undertone.
"No, leave me alone!" My hands were smeared with blood and my voice was edged with panic.
He chuckled gleefully and pulled me to my feet. "Stand up, Snivvy, c'mon. Spread your arms out, and your legs...like a pinwheel. Yeah, that's it."
A dart glanced off the wall, right between my legs. A few inches up and it would've... I didn't hang around this time. I ran for the door. The android laughed and lunged for me. He missed and I went racing down the hallway. Every step hurt, and sent squirts of blood out of my dart wounds.
I heard his footsteps behind me and increased my pace. He was giggling and snorting with glee; obviously not trying hard to catch me. If he was really out to get me, he would've caught up with me in two seconds flat.
"AHHGOD!" The scream broke from my throat; there was a stabbing pain in my calf muscle. I stumbled and briefly considered just giving up and laying there, letting him do what he wanted. Another stab of pain, this time in my shoulder. Hurt extra bad because it glanced off the bone of my shoulderblade. The pain triggered my hatred which triggered me to keep running.
"Where are you going, Sniv? Don't you want to play anymore?" Packbell's taunting voice floated after me.
I stumbled into the wall, shrieking in pain. Packbell had a mean aim; he'd thrown a dart right at my ass. It hurt like hell. I pulled it out and threw it down the hallway at the approaching android. He batted it away with a nonchalant hand and stopped in front of me.
"Get away from me!" I whined. I pressed myself against the wall. The Commander just smiled down at me.
"You got blood on your uniform, tsk tsk." He wagged his finger at me. I reached down and pulled the dart out of my calf, and clutched it in my hand as a weapon.
He reached for me and I stabbed at his hand with the dart. He just laughed and pried it out of my hand.
"Play nice," he crooned. I was grabbed up, kicking and screaming, and brought back to the lab. This time I didn't get away.
"NOOO!" I jerked awake, nearly falling out of bed. I felt dizzy and leaned back against the wall. I blew out a big breath of relief...the dream was over. That horrid dream...that horrid memory.
I wondered if I'd been whining in my sleep. I looked around, but Drago and Flying Frog weren't in their cells.
Hmmm...wonder where they went. No matter. I examined the back wall, pushing against it, trying to find any weakness. There was none.
I tried the front bars of my cell. I managed to squeeze my narrow shoulder through, but my head wouldn't fit. Damn. No way out.
There were footsteps down the hall. Drago and Flying Frog were coming back. Drago was smacking his lips. They must've just ate...damn. I missed dinner.
My stomach growled loudly. "Why didn't I get dinner?" I demanded of Smiley.
Marshe answered for him. "After the first day, you outta know the schedule. You snooze, you lose."
"But I'm hungry," I whined.
"Too bad."
They walked off.
I sat down on the bed, feeling sorry for myself.
Drago picked up his magazine and flipped it open to a page. He stood looking at it for a moment, then thrust it up against the bars between his cell and mine.
"I bet ya'd like to eat this," he said.
I looked over and found myself looking between some naked girl's legs. My lip curled up in disgust and I turned away.
Drago laughed.
I hated that empty feeling in my belly, but what could I do? I opened up 'The Terrible Rage' and tried to ignore the occasional rumbling.
Her smile was flat, not colored by any happy emotion. "Casey is a coward," she said, speaking to Val as if Casey wasn't right there, standing and frowning at her voice.
"And a fool. He doesn't see what's right in front of him. Rebecca loves him. It's practically written out on her forehead." She finally addressed Casey. "She would die for you, you know."
"You're lying," said Casey. "She can't love me. I don't even pay attention to her! I don't even treat her nice!"
I looked up for a moment, frowning. It'd been nagging at me throughout my reading of this book; this Rebecca character acted a lot like my cousin, Devon.
I closed the book, marking my place with a dog-ear. My head rested on my hands as I thought a little bit about Devon.
Devon was younger than me by three years. She has green-blue eyes, very pretty, and long reddish-orange hair that reaches to her knees. As long as I can remember, she's worn it the same way. She puts it in a ponytail, with just a long chunk of bangs in the middle of her forehead. She has a fine body...those full hips, those legs, nicely muscled, her breasts...
I bit down on my lip. Shouldn't be thinking that way about her...
Her personality was pleasant enough, if not a bit stubborn. She wasn't exactly outgoing, but wasn't shy either. She always spoke her mind, even though she should've held her tongue sometimes. She was strong though, much stronger than me, even though she was tiny.
Devon was strange in one way...she was in love. With me. Or so she says...
Dev moved to Mobius around the same time as my family. We came to Mobius to escape World War 4...and ended up in the midst of Mobius's Great War. Eventually her parents were killed by Acorn soldiers. I guess it was an accident; the animals thought they were Overlanders. Mind you, the Overlanders weren't every human on Mobius. Just the group that rebelled. But the name has come to mean the human species itself.
So, after the death of her parents, Devon and her annoying sister DaSilva came to live with us. I was fine with it. My father adored those two. Took his mind off me...which meant I got beaten less.
Devon always seemed fond of me, but I never knew how fond until she started, for lack of a better phrase, coming on to me. She was always grabbing at me, smiling and laughing, even asking me to be her date for school dances and such. I thought she was crazy, so I never took her up on her offers.
I closed my eyes, remembering a time when she was obviously displeased with my choice of a date. Laura Malkovitch. She was the cheerleader type. She was very beautiful, very luscious, and very envied...
I was in my room, feeling pretty good about myself. I had just landed myself a date with Ms. Beauty herself. Of course, I'd helped her on her science project, and knew this was just her way of paying my back. After that, I doubted she'd have anything to do with me. But still, I felt lucky.
My door flew open. I turned fearfully, expecting to see my father, but it was Devon. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her cheeks flushed. "Tell me it's not true," she said.
"What's not true?" I asked.
"You aren't going out with Laura?"
"Yes, so what?"
I watched as her fingernails dug into her arms. Why the hell was she so mad...?
"I asked you to that dance."
"For your information, Devon, we aren't going to the dance...and besides, I wouldn't have gone with you anyway."
The nails dug deeper. "Why not?"
"Uhh...maybe because you're my cousin...?"
"So what." She said it as a statement, not a question.
"So what...don't you think that's just a tad weird?"
"No."
"You're so damn crazy. Get out of here. I don't know who you think you are, always barging in here."
"Oh well, excuuuse me," she snapped, coming further into the room. "But you know what? You make me wanna explode. I can't take it. I CAN'T!!" She picked up a chair and threw it with such force that it scared me. I was honestly shaken, and I backed away and sat on the bed.
She turned to look at me, her normally bright eyes smoldering over.
"You piss me off," she said.
I just stared at her.
"You really piss me off," she repeated. Now her fists clenched and she took a step towards me.
She grabbed my shoulders, her long nails digging in. I met her furious eyes. Her anger swirled in the depths, like sand stirred up on the bottom of a lake. It frightened me. Then she grabbed my hair roughly and yanked my face towards hers.
Her lips...they touched against mine, and then her tongue was inside my mouth. I jumped in surprise and almost pulled away, but she had my hair tight in her grip and I was immobile.
I felt her tongue, tickling against mine, rubbing against my teeth, flicking against the roof of my mouth. It made me almost dizzy. I felt weird shivers in my belly, and then I felt myself...
Devon shoved me away. "You prick," she said.
I grabbed my pillow to hide my lap.
"You wouldn't get that if you didn't care," she snarled.
"I can't help getting it," I said. "It just happened. I don't control it."
"It controls you, right? IS THAT IT? IS THAT WHY YOU BETRAYED ME!?"
"I DON'T BELONG TO YOU!" I screamed back. "I AM NOT COMMITED TO YOU IN ANY WAY, DEVON!! GET THAT THROUGH YOUR THICK SKULL!"
She grabbed the water glass off my nighttable and threw it at me. I put my hands up to shield my face; it struck me in the arm and glanced off. I heard the shatter as it hit the floor.
I got up and smacked her.
She put her hand up to her cheek, looking shocked. Then she smacked me back, snapping my head hard to the side. The classic 'girl slaps bastard' kind of smack.
I brought my head back slowly and glared directly into her eyes. "I'm going on a date with Laura. And there's nothing you can do about it."
"I hate you," she said. She whirled to leave. I could hear her breath puffing out in anger and in that moment, I knew it was just the opposite.
I raised my head off my arms. How angry she'd been that day. How beautiful she looked when she was angry. And the kiss...I still remembered it. It was one of the most amazing things I'd ever experienced.
I sighed and was about to sit up on the bed when I realized something. I felt it pressing into the mattress. For God's sake, I had a hard-on. I rarely got them, not being one to really waste my time thinking of sex.
I squirmed a little on the bed, and let out a quiet sigh, because it did feel quite nice...
I looked stealthily over to Flying Frog, then to Drago. They seemed engrossed in their magazines. Good.
I wiggled my lower body as discreetly as possible. I felt so foolish, but the pleasant sensations were too nice to stop.
Wiggled harder, harder. The feeling was building up in my belly...I fought to keep my breathing steady. Barely aware of my fingers digging hard into my thin blanket...
Oh Godd...Goddd...
I buried my head in my arms, biting my lip hard to keep from making noise. My toes strained and stretched and I felt warmth between my legs, a pleasant wet warmth...
I raised my head up a few minutes later. My cheeks felt flushed.
Drago looked over at me.
"Guess you did get porn after all," he said.