Greetings all, what follows is the result of a moment of inspiration and a largely uneventful Friday evening. I don't think I'm ripping off anyone's idea but if I have then sorry about that and let me know.
I've run out of witty disclaimers so I'll have to settle for a simple, I don't own the Matrix, I'm just stealing it for a while.
P.S. In case this story gives any ideas to the contrary, I do not condone any of the grim vile things you'll see. This story aint for the faint hearted types.
Consequence
By Richard Paul.
Chapter 1: Variable
May 17th 2007
Fear's perspective
There were seven of us in the room with her, four on guard, myself included. Each of us were armed with nothing but swords. We didn't need guns for this, hell we probably didn't even need to be there, we were mainly decorative figures, minor ego boosts to the Merovingian perhaps.
The Twin programs were also there, hovering about the prey like circling vultures, their hands gliding gracefully over the neatly stacked instruments of pain that adorned the walls and two tables at the side. I almost envied them.
There was also his Lordship the Merovingian himself, looking with smug eyes at the defenceless victim that was tied to the large pylon, he was standing quite close to the door, maybe he was worried he'd have to run if she broke free.
I doubted that was the case after a moment's thought, the steel wire we'd used would cut her bare skin to pieces if she struggled too much; it was part of the reason why we had chosen it. It's hard to stand perfectly still when you see a white hot iron or a sharp blade coming towards you. He knew that, I never figured out why he was standing there, I didn't care that much either, its kind of strange that my mind chose to ponder this pointless question during the waiting period rather then focus fully on the naked, bound female in the centre of the room.
God she really was beautiful. Well, at the time she was.
Her face bore the typical mask of bored resignation, but the fear was, as usual, obvious, as was the feeling of hopelessness, the realisation that her life was nearing its end and that this end would slowly redefine the definition of pain for her.
From across the room, Veneration, who also found herself on guard duty,gave me a familiar grin of anticipation. I returned it and then noticed her face snap back into its previous nonchalant state as she presumably received a rebuking glance from the Merovingian, annoyed at the slight disruption in his moment of triumph.
We waited for a few more minutes, letting the woman, HaleI think her name was, enjoy her terror for a few moments more before we got started.
"Are you ever going to get on with it?" She asked finally, her voice filled with iron and her face now remarkably composed; very impressive, "Come on, get this over with and quit staring, my tits aren't that impressive."
He flinched at that, Merv was remarkably easy to offend. Those in his employ often had to ensure that they did not maintain eye contact for too long or break it too early when dealing with him, and also that they did not step on the cracks in the floor tiles and breath in through their mouths. Ok I made the last two up but it's not too far from the truth.
"As you wish," He said after some further flinching. His face now bore a smug, overly elaborate grin, the kind you'd expect to see on a cartoon villain as he twiddled his bushy moustache.
He gestured to the Twins; they nodded, also grinning albeit with far more composure and dignity. They moved to opposite corners of the room and selected two long slender white hot irons from the buckets of hot coals.
Still grinning, they moved slowly towards Hale, lowering their torture devices and pointing them towards her like two jousters.
They held them next to her for a moment; her mouth I noticed was now clenched tightly shut, as were her eyes. She was trying to block out the world around her, and trying to resist the urge to scream. I would have laughed at the futility of that but I guessed that she didn't know much about this pastime.
In unison, they plunged their irons to roughly the same spot on her left thigh.
She was able to resist screaming for maybe half a second. Then the room almost shook with her pained shriek.
The Twins hastily retracted the irons, careful to avoid significantly damaging any nerve endings, if they seared too much they might damage one too many pain receptors.
Hale's screams grew progressively quieter and she managed to hold them off for a few seconds in between to draw in a few hasty lungfuls of oxygen. I noticed her arms, (that had been suspended above her head), were squirming slightly, she was trying to bring her hands down to cradle her wound, only to find them restricted and tormented by her steal bonds. After a final quiet groan of pain, she locked eyes with Merovingian, they were almost blazing with hatred and determination.
I watched on with a curious mix of arousal and admiration. Normally people who found themselves within this dreary corner of the Merovingian's domain begged for their doomed lives before they were exposed to any physical pain whatsoever. This woman, so far, had maintained a degree of composure despite the apparently excruciating pain she had already been exposed to.
It was far too early to tell if this would last however, and my instincts told me that it wouldn't.
The Merovingian gestured to the Twins once more, who had returned to the coal buckets to re-heat their already overheated pokers.
It was her right thigh this time, and her reaction had been almost identical to the first, although this time her breathing seemed more chaotic, and her involuntary struggling brought about its own groans of pain.
I noticed her legs move this time as well, maybe they had the first time, I don't know. I guessed that her body was attempting to force itself into a crouching position, and that its attempts at lessening the pain brought about more harm then good.
Nevertheless, her eyes remained alert; she still seemed more then capable of ripping all our throats out if she got the chance.
I was a little surprised to see the Twins stow their irons after this, I'd often seen them wreak havoc on humanoid frames with those things over the space of several hours. Maybe the attack on her thighs was just a taster of what was to come.
Next they went for her hands, initially without the assistance of any tools. Each taking a hand, they took one of her slender fingers in their own gloved ones, and snapped them. The audible cracks echoed in the room, as did her screams. She tried to clench her fingers, move her hands or do anything to keep the bones in her fingers intact for a second longer. Her efforts were, obviously, fruitless. Soon all her fingers were motionless broken tubes on the ends of her hands.
Walking around in front of her, one of the twins drew his hand across his face, wiping a layer of sweat and a few stray hairs away from her eye. The look on his face was that of a predator tormenting its prey before the final kill, or more specifically, one of sadistic delight.
Hale, summoning all of her strength, lunged her head towards the hand and closed her teeth around two of the Twins fingers, these instantly dematerialised and shifted to their ethereal, green ghost like state, with one 'out of phase' hand, the Twin moved his limb through Hale's face, down to her left shoulder. Shortly after it arrived there, she started screaming again.
Now the way they explained this to me after we were finished is that, he solidified certain areas of his hand so that they closed around and pinched certain nerves. The result was similar to getting a knife in the shoulder.
There were times I envied them, more often then not however I was happy enough as I was.
Anyway, that's not important. They took a medium sized mallet from one of the tables next and with it they smashed the bones in Hale's hands to splinters. She screamed, but this scream was interrupted by a sudden expulsion of bile from her throat; almost instantly the odour of vomit mixed with the already unpleasant odours of blood and burned flesh. Lovely.
I buried my head under my shirt and breathed in the scent of my deodorant. It smelt heavenly compared to what I could smell in the room, although the two smells did seem to intermingle somewhat.
Against all odds, I noticed that she smiled slightly despite the pain, presumably at the puddle of vomit now trailing down one of the Twin's face and chest. After a quick displeased glance at himself, the Twin shifted to his ghostly form, and the vomit fell to the floor was a graceless splat. Hale just seemed to shrug at this sight.
It was remarkable. In spite of everything, all the crippling wounds and severe pain, in spite of the sheer hopelessness of her situation, she still resisted us. My admiration returned.
They moved onto her feet next, with a jug full of boiling hot water that had been resting near one of the hot coal buckets. They let the steaming water trickle onto her feet and sear the skin. Hale staggered as this new method of torture continued, her body now less able to keep upright, now having to rely more on the painful restraints.
She was still screaming, but there was something in her scream that I can only describe as resignation. Whereas the first few screams had been filled with outrage, shock and horror, now the sound of it was familiar in her own ears, it was less horrifying.
This all continued for another hour and a half, the Twins attacking different sections of Hale's body with assorted tools. As they were busy carving strips of flesh out of Hale's legs, the Merovingian spoke up suddenly.
(I'd almost forgotten he was there,)
"One moment." He said amiably.
The Twins, without so much as a disappointed sigh, pushed themselves to a standing position and moved to the side. The Merovingian walked towards the battered woman who now looked like a weary shell of her former self, to her credit she hadn't begged once.
"Is there something you'd like to say to me?" He asked, his voice dripping with nauseating pride.
"What?" Hale asked weakly, she sounded unsure of who she was talking to.
"I said do you have anything you want to say to me? I think it'd be in your best interests really, don't you?"
She spluttered a few times, coughing blood into Merv's face before slurring the words,
"I won't betray them; you'll have to find them on your own you piece of shit."
"Oh I wasn't talking about them; your death should be all we need to draw them into our web. What I want from you is an apology."
She almost laughed; so did I.
"There is never any action without reaction. If you displease me then you shall pay the consequences." (Oh God, not the causality speech again), "You killed one of my servants, you got what you deserved. Now," he moved his head closer to hers, "Apologise; and I'll make it quick."
It was amazing. Even with all her injuries, severe blood loss and God knows what else, she still managed to force enough strength into herself to plunge her head at the Merovingian's, landing a headbut that caused a thick trail of blood to flow down his nose.
He cursed once loudly in French before turning back towards the exit, he motioned for the Twins to continue where they had left off, but after a quick glance, it appeared that Hale had at last died. Strange, usually even the feeblest of prey lasted longer then this, then again, maybe she did it herself. Disciplined minds I've heard can stop their own hearts, this is true even for programs, at least I think that's true, in any case, she was dead.
Merv cursed again, more quietly this time. He motioned for two guards to deal with Hale's body and for the rest of us to follow him back to the Chateau.
Now we just had to wait for the others. Simple.
To be continued.
