A/N: Wow... I've broken 50 reviews!
Chapter 9
The rope that's wrapped around me
Is cutting through my skin
And the doubts that have surrounded me
Are finding their way in.
I keep it close to me,
Like a holy man prays.
In my desperate hour
It's better that way.
(Melissa Etheridge)
"Atlas," said Rock, sitting down, "Atlas, as in the revolutionary leader Atlas?" He looked Atlas up and down, from scruffy shoes to battered cap, and smirked. "Not as intimidating as they say."
Atlas narrowed his eyes. "And you're Rock the Marduk, all-powerful protector of Metropolis. Didn't your father disown and shoot you?"
Rock dangled his booted feet off of the landing, "Ha," he said, "I'm wounded. You have damaged me beyond repair and I shall die. Anyway, I'll have you know that it was just a misunderstanding."
"Er... Right."
"Exactly."
They sat in silence for what seemed an eternity until Atlas got restless and began wandering about, venturing off into the dark hallway.
"Hey," he called, "Rock, come here."
Rock stared back into the impenetrable gloom, looked distinctly apprehensive, and stayed put. There was no way he was going in there...
Atlas walked out, brushing shadows off his sleeves like tangible things. "Why won't you come?" he said, looking up quizzically.
"...You're joking," said Rock, looking skeptical, "you want me to go in there?"
"Well, yes."
"Not a chance."
Atlas sighed and disappeared into the shadows again, not reappearing for quite some time. When he did, he looked discouraged.
"So," asked Atlas, sounding bored, "how about now?"
"No."
"Please?"
"No. No way in hell."
Atlas turned to Rock, flopping down beside him with a muffled bang.
"Fine," he said, "be that way. We can just sit here until someone comes to wake you." He waved his hands in the air to punctuate his sarcasm. "Doesn't that sound fun?" He leaned over and poked Rock in the arm. "Come on, it's been nearly two hours you've been sitting here. Don't you think it's time to move?"
Rock batted Atlas' hand away and stared balefully into an irritatingly energetic face.
"No," he ground out, "for the thirtieth time, I'm staying right here." His fingers twitched with the urge to push this- Person? Hallucination? Off the landing. "I would much rather be bored than eaten or drowned by whatever's behind those doors. Why do you need me, anyway?"
"There's a door I need you to open. But you are boring." Atlas turned away, staring over the edge of the collapsed staircase. "very boring. You were more interesting as the Marduk leader than the guy who thinks he's crazy." Rock looked affronted. "Yes, you do think that," said Atlas, a trace of smugness in his expression, "this is the inside of your head, and all your thoughts are clear as day. I can read 'em."
"What!?" yelled Rock, leaping to his feet, "You can't do that! My thoughts are mine and not yours!"
Atlas stared for a moment, then began to laugh. "You-" he gasped between spasms of hilarity, "I can't believe you actually fell for that! You're one damn paranoid Marduk, you know that?"
Rock let his arms fall to his sides, rolling his eyes. "Why am I stuck with you?" he asked, shaking his head from side to side, "Of all the little voices in the world, why is this one in my head?"
"I'm not a little voice," said Atlas, "I'm very big, thank you."
Rock stared blankly. "What?"
Atlas sighed and got up, making a face at Rock. "Dirty humor is lost on you. You really are boring. What do they teach at Marduk school? Stoic 101? How to scare civilians without trying?"
Rock turned his head back down to the floor. "Stop insulting us," he said, irritated, "I'm not insulting you, am I? And Marduks aren't as bad as you say they are. We're just doing our jobs."
"Yeah," said Atlas, "and what a great job hired assassin is. How respectable." He sat down again, leaning over and staring at Rock seriously. "So, why?"
Rock blinked. "Why what?"
"Why do you do what you do? Why kill robots and people? Does it make you feel strong and macho, or do you simply like death?" Atlas leaned in further, so they were almost nose to nose. "I want to know what makes a Marduk tick. Is it fanaticism?" He watched Rock's expression. "No? Was it even your choice?"
Watching Rock's guilty flinch, Atlas grinned like a shark. "It wasn't, was it? Duke Red made you do it. You don't like killing people at all..."
Rock suddenly jerked away, face red in fury. "Leave my father out of it!" he cried, "he knows what's best for me. I may not like killing people, but I do what I have to do." he shook his head. "I love my father, and I'd do anything for him."
Atlas sat back on his haunches. "Do you now?" he said curiously, "and... does he love you?"
"Of... of course he does," said Rock, suddenly quiet, "I know he does... did..."
"Did?" Atlas raised an eyebrow.
Rock looked away, slowly lowering his eyes to the floor. His wavy brown hair fell forward over his face. "Sh- shut up," he whispered, "just shut up. Leave me alone."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, Rock's shoulders quivering almost imperceptibly. He could feel hot tears beginning to ooze from the clenched corners of his eyelids, and fought back making a sound. It was true, and he knew it. His father didn't and never had loved him. No one ever had. He was useless, a disgrace, unwanted, unneeded, a freak...
He was so lost in paralyzing despair he didn't notice a small door in the hallway open, releasing red strings into the air- they floated like feathers in the breeze.
The strings began to wrap themselves around his wrists. Aside from a gentle pressure, Rock barely knew they were there. They twisted their way up his arms, pulling at him. Rock vaguely felt them spiral to his shoulders. Suddenly, Atlas was there tearing them away. Rock noticed they cut Atlas' hands wherever they fell- As if half-awake, Rock looked at his own wrists and the thick blood in fascination. The threads had slashed him too, thin, deep slits and welts.
Atlas was shaking him now, hands on Rock's shoulders. Rock stared at him, uncomprehending. There was a sudden warmth, and through the muddled fog he realized Atlas was embracing him, saying something too quickly to make sense. Rock shook his head and tried to concentrate.
"-sorry for doing this, I should have told you how this place works," said Atlas urgently. "The doors are a focus for emotion. Anything you feel too strongly hurts you-"
Rock drifted, seeing the cooling blood run from his arms. Somehow, it reminded him of something...
"Rock!" cried Atlas, "Rock, they're coming to wake you. Listen to me!"
Rock managed to piece together his fragmented mind. "I-" he said, half-watching the blood still, "I'm listening."
Atlas hugged him tighter. "You'll be okay."
And Rock woke up.
Walking into Theo's so-called office, Dione was worried about him. He was unhealthily thin beneath his ragged clothes, even more so than usual- And she wasn't at all sure that Theo'd been sleeping much. There was constantly something bubbling beneath the surface. Probably what they had all been obsessed with since the city's fall. Atlas.
"Theo," said Dione, "Myth hasn't come in yet."
"I know," mused Theo, leaning back in his battered camp chair salvaged from who knows where, "it's a bit worrying. We are operating on a limited schedule with the prisoner, and my interrogator is nowhere to be found."
Standing up, Theo went to the window. There were the usual merchants below, legal and illegal. He could pick out three drug dealers from here alone. The sunlight filtered through to glow on the tin roof of many a building, and it was almost beautiful. It was easy to pretend, sometimes, that you lived up on the ground, but the view of shattered girders overhead tended to tarnish the illusion.
"Theo?" asked Dione, "Are you listening to me?"
"Wh- Oh, yes," he said, turning around, "We only have a couple of days until Duke Red contacts us for the terms of release, and we need to get any helpful information from the Marduk as soon as possible. And Myth..." Theo sighed, running a hand through chin-length black hair, "Myth picks now to call in sick. Or whatever."
"I," volunteered Dione, "I could always do it..." she trailed off, hiding a predatory smile. "That Marduk- he won't last too long with me. He'll beg to tell his secrets."
"A Marduk he may be," replied Theo, "but I know you. You're always a little... Extreme. We don't want him dead or dying."
"You were the one who mentioned the time limits."
"That is true," said Theo, "And Myth isn't here- But you have a personal grudge against Marduks. How can I trust you not to go too far?"
"You have my word, I won't hurt him too badly."
Theo laughed slightly. "Not much reassurance, I'm afraid."
"All right," said Dione, "I won't break anything. But that might take longer."
"I suppose you're my only backup," said Theo, turning away from her, "so I will permit it. But remember, no broken bones. No burns either."
"Ahh, Theo," sighed Dione, "you're taking all the fun out of it."
He looked at her severely. "We need him alive, Dione. A dead Marduk does us no good."
"All right, all right," said Dione, and she turned to walk out. Halfway to the door of the barren room, she turned back. "Theo," she began, "I can restrain him, at least? Keep him from running around too much?"
Theo looked at her strangely for a moment, as if she wasn't quite there, then shook his head. "I- yes, I suppose you can restrain him. You don't want him to escape..."
"Good." She turned and walked out, Theo not seeing the vulpine grin that appeared on her face as she left.
It was astonishingly dark- that was his first thought. His second thought was that he was very hungry, thirsty, and numb. Not a good combination.
Rock tried to move his arms within their chains, and found that he couldn't tell if they moved or not. The blood had pooled in his hands and feet. He had no doubt that they were now a nice shade of mottled purple and blue, maybe a bit of green thrown in just for added effect.
The door scraped on its hinges, and suddenly there was much more to worry about than numbness. A light flicked on and Rock's eyes flew shut, blinded by the glare.
"Well, hello," said a feminine voice, than a sensation of a hand trailing down his cheek, "remember me, little boy?"
Rock eased his eyes open a crack, just able to make out blurry shapes, but the voice he recognized. "You- who are...?"
"Are you afraid, little Marduk?" she asked softly, "Afraid that I'll hurt you like the Marduks hurt my family?"
"What are you talking about? Who are you? Why would the Marduks hurt your family?" asked Rock, honestly confused, "We hunt robots, not people."
There was the crack of flesh against flesh, and Rock found himself with his cheek on fire and the heavy taste of blood in his mouth.
"Little Marduk," said Dione, pressing the reddened patch on his cheek. It had already begun to bruise. "Little boy, who do you think fought Metropolis' war?" she paused, lost in thought, "Ah, but you were young at the time, barely at your father's knee. You would not remember the war. You lost no one."
"I-" said Rock, but Dione cut him off.
"No, little boy. You did not see your parents and brother and two sisters die in a spray of blood. But I did. I watched the Marduks do it."
"Why are you telling me this?" whispered Rock.
"Because the Marduks will pay. I will have my revenge. And you, little boy..." She trailed off, and Rock's eyes widened at her look of malice, "you are a Marduk." Her grip tightened on the purpling area of Rock's cheek, and he winced. Dione drew back.
"Little lost Marduk," she said, "however will you get home?" And punched him in the side of the head, just below his ear. Rock saw stars, bursts of white static against fuzzy grey- By the time he could see again, his restraints were gone and he was on the table, face-up. Dazedly he struggled, only to find he was tied there with strips of cloth. It took him a moment to realize that he was cold and bound with strips of his own tattered shirt.
Dione's face loomed into view. She grinned wickedly and produced a knife from a sheath in her sleeve.
Rock's eyes widened and he struggled ineffectually to pull away. She put the tip to his throat and leaned in close.
"I'm supposed to interrogate you, you know," she confided softly, "but I think I'm entitled to my fun, don't you?" she moved the long, thin knife from his throat to his bare chest. "Oh, and scream all you like. The room is soundproofed."
Rock whimpered. The steel was cold against his skin, and with just a little pressure it would slice neatly. Dione smiled cruelly, approving of the noise, and Rock shut his eyes. There was a burst of pain, a line of fire from mid-chest to stomach, and he gasped, hissing through his teeth. Opening one eye he could see the shallow cut bleeding freely.
Dione smiled and cut him again, this time deeper and more slowly, a curve from shoulder to shoulder. It went excruciatingly slowly, and Rock bit back a moan as she tore through muscle tissue. She nicked his collarbone and he couldn't hold back a scream, throwing himself against the restraints. They held.
She laughed, putting her chipped nails in the first cut and pulling sideways. Rock screamed again and thrashed ineffectually. It hurt oh god it hurt-
She took away the sharp hand and smiled at him conspiratorially. "You know," she said, "He made me promise not to hurt you... And I am. But it's all right. You should feel lucky."
She seemed to expect an answer, but Rock just stared.
"He said no broken bones," she trailed the hand, slick with blood, in small whorls on his stomach, "and no burns. Burns take so long to heal- But you still amuse me like this, helpless..."
She brought down the knife again, two curving slits in the middle of his chest. Rock clenched his teeth.
"Oh," she said softly, mocking, "don't you like it?" And cut a vaguely triangular shape by his navel. Unsatisfied with the shape, Dione traced over it again, harder, and again. Rock's control slipped with the fourth repetition, and screams echoed in the small room long after the seventh. Then there were more cuts, shallow and deep alike until Rock lost count and was aware only of the blood-slickness and throbbing pain and the blinding light overhead and sounds of agony he belatedly realized he was making-
Then it stopped.
Rock stared up, aware only of his harsh panting and the blinding light. Darkness stalked the edges of his vision in short bursts. He wondered if he was alone, finally- If it was over and she was gone-
"Poor boy," she crooned, dragging a finger sideways through the congealing liquid, "are you hurting?"
Rock shuddered, unable to respond. He felt tear tracks on his face that hadn't been noticed before.
"Don't worry," said Dione happily, "It's almost over... And then I'll leave you alone. Does that make you happy?" Rock didn't respond, his eyes glazed. Dione put her hand to his chin and made his head nod up and down. "Good," she said, "Now wake up. You being in shock just takes all the fun away..."
Picking up the water jug that'd been left in the room's corner, she dumped the contents over Rock's head and slapped him for good measure. He blinked slowly, breaking from the stare and looking at Dione with bleary fear and hate.
"Along with his warnings about breaking bones and burns," she giggled, "Theo said I could... Make sure you wouldn't be running around." Dione grinned malevolently, producing four long, thin skewers. "And you won't."
Rock drew back in absolute terror, as far as his bonds would let him go. She advanced on him, laughing, the skewers at the ready. Held still by his bonds, Rock couldn't escape- And with complete precision and concentration, Dione drove the spike through his arm at the joint between palm and wrist.
Rock screamed raw and ragged. His throat felt like it had been shredded and the wrist was one solid point of white-hot agony- His distended scream only escalated in pitch as Dione skewered his other wrist, followed by the joints at his ankles. Mercifully, Rock fell silent and unconscious.
With an air of disdain, Dione untied him and flung Rock's limp weight against the wall. Daintily, she stepped over the stream of blood sluggishly flowing to the drain, locked the door from the outside, and turned off the lights.
She laughed.