To Jade: Well, see he's rather tied up at the minute... (sweatdrop)
I'll AN now instead of at the end: Short this one is, but in truth it was the last two pages of the last one, that got stuck together and I forgot about them. So this is the penultimate one, not the last one. Sorry! It's less hassel all round if I just post them as a separate chapter, I'll warrant.
&o&o&
He walked through the dungeon door, dragging the Trember Trident, trailing sparks. Katnappé lay on the floor behind him, not moving, not daring to believe that she had been saved. Raimundo glared at the practically-possessed Jack Spicer. He had brought this on himself, this time. He could have stayed quiet, let Ashley be raped, but he had intentionally distracted Jack. Hopefully she was escaping - he didn't want to have gone through this for nothing. He braced himself.
Jack had a sadistic look on his face - an out of control craziness that meant... Oh crap. It seemed that he had gone kamikaze to protect Katnappé's virtue. Good one, Raimundo.
Jack's eyes danced. The Trember Trident, now fully charged, could throw the soul out of a body in just one blow. But Jack, or at least what was calling itself Jack, did not want that. He wanted to draw it out, let the adrenaline course through his veins. Causing Pain was a seductive thing.
He drew the stick lightly across Raimundo's stomach, drawing a yelp of pain. He drew circles, patterns in the searing flesh before plunging a little deeper. He was almost in a trance, spurred on by the moans that escaped his victims lips, by the smell of burning, the stink of fear.
Raimundo was beyond pain, beyond agony. How was he even alive? No doubt that if a tangible weapon could cause this pain, he would have been dead at its first touch. He heard someone say something.
"I'll tell you whatever it was that you wanted to know, just make it STOP!"
It was his own voice. His own voice that had betrayed him. The pain stopped, abruptly. He couldn't breath, couldn't move, could hardly exist after that. He cracked one eye open, lifting his head slowing; expecting Jack's face swim into focus, foaming at the mouth, demanding answers.
Instead, Ashley was there, shouldering the Fist of Tebigong.
Jack lay sprawled across the floor, the Trember Trident had clattered out of his grip and away. Ashley kicked it across the slates, as Raimundo's face broke into a smile for his saviour before his knees buckled and he knew no more.
&o&o&
&o&o&