Rock awakened once again with Forte standing, looming over him. Rock's memory flashed back to what he had said last time. He refused to speak again, as he was still numb, but he did manage to sit up.
"Five days, Rockman," Forte said, glaring at him. "I don't really have time for this. Do you want to continue to be my prisoner?" He held up his buster at Rock's head. "Or do you want to end this?"
Rock stared at the buster. "I don't wanna fight," he mumbled, falling back and hitting his head against cold stone. "Ow."
"Smooth, Rockman. You will fight me, do you hear?" Forte paused. "I'll command it of you when I think you're ready." He turned to leave. "By the way, have fun with Gospel today. He's not in a happy mood."
Rock winced as Gospel started gripping his shirt by the huge canine teeth. Rock fell to the ground as the door closed. Rock was under attack in moments.
"Gospel, please!" Rock begged. Gospel bit him, tearing huge pieces of metal along with him. Rock's sensors went into overdrive. "Please!" He gave out a kick, but Gospel dodged it, landing on top of his chest. Rock wearily stared into the mouth that was headed for his neck. "I'm sorry I can't help you," he muttered, not to Gospel, not to Forte, but to someone else. "I wish I could…"
Gospel seemed to think this was for him. He froze, fighting off the protective programming that was driven into him. It had activated five days ago, seeing Forte's blood drawn from under the bathroom… But this was Submissive, his brain seemed to whisper. Submissive won't hurt you . Or Forte. Forte has him domesticated.
"I'm sorry," Rock said finally. Gospel licked his face, trying to explain that things were all better. Rock gave a slight grin. "Thanks."
Forte wasn't surprised Rock was still alive, but he was surprised at the low amount of damage he had received. "Well, well."
Gospel jumped to his Master, licking his face all over like a dog. "Whoa. Down, boy. What on earth was that for?" he asked, forgetting who else was in the room.
"Gospel showed me a very interesting sight," Rock responded coldly. Gospel suddenly changed, pulling off Forte's armor and revealing a scar-ridden upper body. Rock's eyes went wide, but then he brought forth a weapon. A knife. A long knife, jeweled- Forte's eyes recognized it instantly. "Gospel also showed me what goes on- he's not a stupid dog, I'll give him that."
"He's a wolf," Forte said, remembering the thought-transfer still needed time to recharge. "Give that to me, now." His voice lowered.
Gospel stood in front of Rock. Rock spoke. "We don't want to see you suffer anymore. I'm going to throw this out the window." He broke the window with his good fist.
Let me die…
"No!" Forte cried, kicking the purple wolf under the bed. He grabbed the hilt of the knife and Rockman's hand, pulling the knife into his own hands. He held the knife up high, ready to kill.
Yes, let me taste his blood… Let me feed off of his fear…Let me end it…for you…
Forte's eyes dilated suddenly as he stepped back, forgetting everything but the voice. "No…I can do this! I won't belong to you!" He looked around wildly, then jumped into the bathroom, locking the door. Rock helped a wounded Gospel out from under the bed. Silence.
Then, quiet mutterings. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whispered. "No. Please…not again… no…"
Rock watched, horrified as he tried to break down the door, blood flowing out of the door crack. He and Gospel busted in to see a wounded Forte with the knife sticking through his chest.
"Five days, Rockman," Forte said, glaring at him. "I don't really have time for this. Do you want to continue to be my prisoner?" He held up his buster at Rock's head. "Or do you want to end this?"
Rock stared at the buster. "I don't wanna fight," he mumbled, falling back and hitting his head against cold stone. "Ow."
"Smooth, Rockman. You will fight me, do you hear?" Forte paused. "I'll command it of you when I think you're ready." He turned to leave. "By the way, have fun with Gospel today. He's not in a happy mood."
Rock winced as Gospel started gripping his shirt by the huge canine teeth. Rock fell to the ground as the door closed. Rock was under attack in moments.
"Gospel, please!" Rock begged. Gospel bit him, tearing huge pieces of metal along with him. Rock's sensors went into overdrive. "Please!" He gave out a kick, but Gospel dodged it, landing on top of his chest. Rock wearily stared into the mouth that was headed for his neck. "I'm sorry I can't help you," he muttered, not to Gospel, not to Forte, but to someone else. "I wish I could…"
Gospel seemed to think this was for him. He froze, fighting off the protective programming that was driven into him. It had activated five days ago, seeing Forte's blood drawn from under the bathroom… But this was Submissive, his brain seemed to whisper. Submissive won't hurt you . Or Forte. Forte has him domesticated.
"I'm sorry," Rock said finally. Gospel licked his face, trying to explain that things were all better. Rock gave a slight grin. "Thanks."
Forte wasn't surprised Rock was still alive, but he was surprised at the low amount of damage he had received. "Well, well."
Gospel jumped to his Master, licking his face all over like a dog. "Whoa. Down, boy. What on earth was that for?" he asked, forgetting who else was in the room.
"Gospel showed me a very interesting sight," Rock responded coldly. Gospel suddenly changed, pulling off Forte's armor and revealing a scar-ridden upper body. Rock's eyes went wide, but then he brought forth a weapon. A knife. A long knife, jeweled- Forte's eyes recognized it instantly. "Gospel also showed me what goes on- he's not a stupid dog, I'll give him that."
"He's a wolf," Forte said, remembering the thought-transfer still needed time to recharge. "Give that to me, now." His voice lowered.
Gospel stood in front of Rock. Rock spoke. "We don't want to see you suffer anymore. I'm going to throw this out the window." He broke the window with his good fist.
Let me die…
"No!" Forte cried, kicking the purple wolf under the bed. He grabbed the hilt of the knife and Rockman's hand, pulling the knife into his own hands. He held the knife up high, ready to kill.
Yes, let me taste his blood… Let me feed off of his fear…Let me end it…for you…
Forte's eyes dilated suddenly as he stepped back, forgetting everything but the voice. "No…I can do this! I won't belong to you!" He looked around wildly, then jumped into the bathroom, locking the door. Rock helped a wounded Gospel out from under the bed. Silence.
Then, quiet mutterings. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whispered. "No. Please…not again… no…"
Rock watched, horrified as he tried to break down the door, blood flowing out of the door crack. He and Gospel busted in to see a wounded Forte with the knife sticking through his chest.