Chapter XI: The Final Blow
LES: The last and most crushing blow Jak will have to endure in prison. Let's see… Jak's been in prison for a little over a year now.
Jak, Sorus, Spike, and John were still alive… in a manner of speaking. The Guards that were charged with what was now commonly referred to as 'Freak Duty' had begun to think they had all lost their minds. Day and night, not a single sound came from the prisoners, only the screams that came from their broken souls during the continued torture they still received on a daily basis.
The Baron and Erol were pleased with this new development. They watched though a video system that they had installed in the cell not long before while the experiments were asleep.
"See that, Commander?" The Baron asked, pointing at the screen. "They each have taken a corner of the room for their own. They never cross over the lines that separate these different 'territories' and there is no communication. They have reverted back to primitive male behavior… territorial and aggressive… amazing. They are more like enhanced animals, living off instinct."
"Sir…" Erol began, pointing at the screen. It appeared that Spike had tried to cross into John's territory. And, being driven by testosterone and rage, John attacked. Jak and Sorus looked up and watched the fight with an uninterested look on their faces as Spike and John ripped at each other with their teeth in an animalistic fighting style that reminded Erol of Metal-Heads. When left alone, Metal-Heads would spar with each other, ripping and tearing until one or the other was nothing but a large pile of mangled flesh.
John immediately got the upper hand, pinning Spike to the ground and tearing at his face.
"Sir, shouldn't we stop this?" Erol asked.
"No." Praxis said. "Better let them duke it out. The loser is going to be the weaker one, and I have no need for a weak warrior."
"But, sir, if they go on like this… there will only be one left…"
"Yes. And that one will be the strongest and most cunning of all of them… the one worthy of being the Dark Warrior." Praxis said.
"Sire?" Erol pointed at the screen. John had won the fight… and Spike was in pieces.
"Scratch out Number Five." The Baron said. Erol got out the register and found Spike's number. Beside it, he briefly noted that he had been killed at the hands of his fellow experiment.
"Sir. It's two o'clock." Erol reminded Praxis.
Praxis laughed. "Ah yes, our favorite time of the day." He pointed John out on the screen, who had just resumed his place like nothing had happened. "Him first… the winner deserves it."
The Guards slowly approached the cell. Every one of them was well aware of the prisoner's violence and they knew that they had all killed their fair share of Guards. Even the boy, considered the softest of the group, had a lot of Krimzon Guard blood on his hands. Racking up a number of almost thirty kills in a little over a year. The Guards were creeped out by the way the three remaining prisoners just sat there, completely oblivious to everything around them. They were like zombies, incapable of thought or feeling.
The Guards opened the doors and went to get John in the far corner. The other prisoners didn't even look up. "I hate this part." One Guard mumbled as they grabbed John, who didn't put up any fight, and began to lead him back to the cell door.
Suddenly, a snarl rent though the air. The Guards realized instantly what had happened. They had unwittingly lead John into Sorus' territory. "Get out of the way!" The Captain yelled. It was the Guard's instant obedience that saved them. They got out of the way just as the prisoners clashed.
The two prisoners began to rip at each other. John, who was still recovering from the last fight, didn't stand a chance against Sorus. It was all over within seconds. "Two deaths in one day?" One Guard wondered. "At this rate, it won't be long before there is only one left."
"What do we do now?" One Guard asked. "The Baron personally requested him." He pointed at the mangled remains of John.
"Just grab another one." The Captain ordered. "And be sure not to take him close to the other." The men grabbed Jak. Jak, unlike the others, still had some fight in him. He flailed aimlessly, trying to get away. His foot caught one of the Guards round the head, snapping his neck, and killing him instantly. Jak didn't even react beyond fighting harder, but the Guards did. "Restrain him!" The Captain ordered. Instantly, Jak was restrained with ropes and chains, anything the Guards had, but he was still fighting; growling and snarling at the Guards.
"I don't think the Baron knows what he's getting into." One Guard said. "It won't be long before we can't control them."
"Don't let the Baron hear you say that, or he'll put you on that machine." Another Guard advised.
"Oh well, let's just get this over with." Another Guard said, grabbing the end of one of the ropes and tugging. The rope was wrapped around Jak's neck and he coughed as it tightened. Once he could breathe again, however, he hissed at the Guard. The Guard scowled and led Jak out of the cell, down the hall towards the machine.
When they entered the all-too-familiar torture room they were greeted by Erol, who saw instantly that the men were not escorting John, but Jak.
"What is this?" Erol demanded. "The Baron asked for Number Three!"
"There was an accident." The Captain explained. "Back in the Cell. Number Three was killed by Number Thirteen. So we brought Number Eleven instead."
"A pity." Erol said. "But, if it was weak, than it was for the better." Erol paused for a quick laugh. "So, only two left?" Erol grabbed Jak by the chin. "You are a little survivor, aren't you?" Jak's only response was trying to bite off Erol's hand. Unfortunately, Erol pulled his hand back just in time. Rage burned in his eyes as he pulled out a dagger. "Why you!" Erol snarled as he slashed Jak across the face, leaving a long cut from the right side of his forehead to the left side of his chin. He was lucky not to lose an eye.
Jak growled, but couldn't retaliate, for he was still bound. Erol continued to glare at Jak, but then he gasped, dropping the knife in surprise. The wound began to bleed a strange substance. A substance that was half blood, and part a dark substance that could only be Dark Eco. The Dark Eco covered the wound and, instead of destroying it, it actually began to heal it! Within seconds, the wound was completely healed. It was like he had never been cut in the first place! However, this wasn't all good. The Dark Eco was healing him, but what was left of Jak in his mind was in pain. The Dark Eco hurt while it healed, it felt like he was dying and coming back to life at the same time.
Erol grinned. "Excellent." He paused. "Double the Eco input!"
One scientist gasped. "But… sir…?"
"Don't argue with me!" Erol roared, the scientist cowered, and immediately began to adjust the controls on the machine.
The Guards threw a snarling Jak into the metal chair and got his hands and feet into the restraints before he figured out how to rip though rope and chain and kill them all.
Erol walked over to the chair. "You, my little pet, will be our Dark Warrior!" Erol proclaimed. He backed away, so that he was not in the way when the treatments began. The whole point of torture was to torture the victim, not yourself.
Erol pressed the BUTTON on the control panel. The machine hummed ominously as it warmed up, it's cold metal gleaming in the green-tinted light. Dark Eco volts slowly made it's way down the machine until they reached the tip. From there, a huge amount of Dark Eco jumped straight from the machine into Jak's body.
Then the pain started. Even though Jak had long since lost his mind, he was still capable of feeling pain. He screamed, because that was all he could do. The machine warmed up and the Eco input increased even more. Jak's pain-filled scream increased in volume and anguish until even Erol had to cover his ears at the sound.
The screaming continued for at least another hellish minute, during which more than one scientist lost their lunch at the sheer horror of it. Finally, the screaming died down, along with the machine. Erol uncovered his ears and looked down at Jak, who was trying hard to stay awake, but failing miserably.
"Well?" Erol spoke up. "Any new developments?"
One green-faced scientist began to study the data that was coming out of the computer. "Uh… no new developments." The scientist paused. "Sir?" The scientist began slowly. "We haven't had a new development in months. Perhaps they reach a certain level, and then stop…"
"Are you suggesting we give up?" Erol asked coldly.
"Uh…" The scientist cowered, realizing he had just said something wrong.
"So, we just let these things go? 'You are free to go. Oh, and sorry for all the stuff we put you though for over a year!" Erol spat mockingly. "The Baron decides if and when this project is terminated!"
"I was just concerned about…" The scientist began.
"The lab rats?" Erol finished. "It's not good to become connected to our weapons. It affects judgment. And we have no need for that on our project!" Erol snapped his fingers and a dozen guns were aimed at the unlucky scientist. Gunshots echoed around the room and the man was pierced by a dozen bullets. There was no way he could've survived.
His limp body fell to the floor and blood began to pool around his still form. Erol looked completely unconcerned that he had just killed his lead scientist. He turned around to look at Jak, who was staring at the dead body with an almost hungry look in his stormy blue eyes. Erol snorted. "Animal." He spat. "Take this thing back to the cell, and bring the other one. And no accidents this time, hmm?" With that, Jak was unstrapped and led away.
(Several Days Later)
Happily, Jak and Sorus' minds were slowly returning. In fact, there were times when they were they enjoyed each other's company. During these times, they mourned for Spike and John. Some of the Guards talked about what had happened to them, and they were horrified to find that they were killing each other.
"We were suppose to get out of here together." Jak said. "But now they will never get that chance."
"John because of me." Sorus said. "And Spike because of John."
However, they weren't fully healed yet. There were still times when they lost their minds and hated each other's guts.
Sadly, it was a time when they hated each other. They were far beyond sitting on opposite sides of the room. Instead, they stood in the center of the room, just on their sides of the imaginary line, as though daring the other to try and make a move.
Suddenly, Sorus growled and stepped onto Jak's side. Jak roared with fury that someone would dare to intrude on his territory! Without wasting a second, Jak tackled Sorus. He instantly responded by pushing Jak off him with a roar. Jak instantly launched himself at Sorus once again. Thus, the final fight began.
"Sir?" Erol asked, watching the screen as Sorus swiped at Jak's face. "The last two are going at it."
The Baron peered at the screen as Jak attempted to bite Sorus, but his teeth hit only empty air. Sorus swung at Jak, but the attack missed because Jak was very swift. Jak started a counter-offensive, attacking Sorus blindly. "Good." Praxis said. "Be sure to congratulate the winner for me."
Erol sighed and turned back to the screen.
Slowly, Sorus was gaining the upper hand. He was older, bigger, and had more experience in the art of killing than Jak. The only thing that kept Jak from getting pounded to a pulp was his superior agility.
Sorus swung once again for Jak's head, but Jak rolled out of the way with a growl. Before Sorus knew what was happening, Jak had recovered. Jak jumped up and grabbed Sorus by the collar of his prison outfit. Jak then seemed to fall over backwards, but he was taking Sorus with him. Instead of falling to the ground, Jak performed a sort of backwards roll, sending Sorus over Jak and flying into the wall that had been behind Jak. Sorus flew though the air and hit the wall; the force of the hit shattered his spine right below the shoulder blades.
Everything below the break stopped working and everything above exploded in pain.
Jak finished his roll and got up, turning to face Sorus, madness gleaming in his eyes. Jak saw the damage. Sorus lay on the ground, nothing but a broken rag-doll. Sorus might've had a chance to live… if it weren't for what Jak did next.
He walked over to Sorus and kneeled down beside him. What happened next the Baron and Erol couldn't see because Jak had his back to the camera and Jak never remembered. With the help of whatever darkness resided in his veins, Jak's fingernails elongated into long cruel claws. Without a second though, Jak plunged his new claws straight into Sorus' abdomen. Sorus let out a cry as Jak tore into his abdominal cavity, casually ripping out intestines as he saw fit.
Sorus wasn't going to live. Jak had seen to that. Even if there was a Guard around to witness this, they wouldn't have stopped it. They had been given orders not to stop the fights. Even if they didn't have orders, they wouldn't have gone into the cell with a mindless killer they knew as Number Eleven.
Jak ripped his bloodstained claws out of Sorus and roared in triumph as his fingernail shrunk back to their regular size.
Fate… can be vindictive at times and Fate seemed to hate Jak's guts. It was at that moment that Jak's madness let him. Jak blinked in confusion, and then happened to look down.
Jak's eyes widened at the sight that met him. It was a scene right out of his most horrible nightmares. Sorus was lying on the ground before him, his stomach was ripped open and his intestines were spread around the floor in a strange, bloody design. However, the worst part was the bright red, slightly purple, blood on his hands, revealing the designer of this gory pattern.
"No!" Jak gasped in horror. "No! Sorus! I've… killed you!"
"Not… quite…" Jak looked down at Sorus, who had spoken.
"Sorus!" Jak cried. "Don't worry, I'll help you!" Jak pressed his hands against the hole, but the only thing he succeeded in doing was getting up to his wrists in blood.
"No, Jak… it won't help…" Sorus growled, forcing Jak's hands away from the hole.
"You'll heal!" Jak said, remembering that they had enhanced healing factors. He had heard mention of it. "It will heal!"
"No…" Sorus replied, winching.
"It will! It will!" Jak cried desperately.
"Jak… we can heal scratches… sometimes bullet wounds…" Sorus gasped. "You ripped out half my insides…"
"Oh God, Sorus!" Jak cried. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it! I wasn't myself!"
"I know, Kid… I know…" Sorus gasped. The pain of his various injuries were beginning to overwhelm him. "I forgive you, Kid. It's the Baron… he's done something to us…" Sorus coughed up some blood. Jak shook his head in silent denial. "Jak… promise me… you'll escape. Promise me you'll get out of here… alive!"
Jak nodded. "I promise."
Sorus smiled up at Jak in an encouraging sort of way. Then… his eyes closed, his head fell to the bloodstained cell floor, and his soul left his body forever. Sorus was dead.
"No…" Jak breathed, realizing that he was alone… dreadfully alone in this place. He had just killed his own friend. The one man who had been nice to him when he arrived in prison over a year ago… scared, mute, and naïve… he was dead. Jak threw his head to the ceiling. "NOOO!" Jak cried out. Within that single cry was all the pain, anger, hopelessness, and anguish that he had felt for over a year. It was at that moment that Jak of Sandover died forever.
Jak sat in the corner of his lonely cell, the last survivor of the Dark Warrior program. He sat with his knees up to his chest, with his forehead resting on his knees, and his arms wrapped around his legs. Slowly, Jak looked up at the opposite wall with dead, hallow, hopeless eyes. He didn't cry on the outside, but on the inside, he was weeping uncontrollably.
"I can't…" Jak said despairingly. "I can't even remember who I am." Jak closed his eyes and tried to remember Sandover. He couldn't see it so clearly anymore; the Sandover of his memories was dull and colorless. He tried to remember the fun times he had growing up as a child. He remembered nothing from before his sixth year, but even the memories he did have were dim.
He tried to remember the fun times with Daxter and Keira. Oh God… Keira. Jak missed her more than he could imagine. He missed how they would sneak out at night, go to the beach, and watch the waves crash against the white sands. Some nights they would go stargazing. They would try to find their own constellations. Jak remembered that Keira had once lovingly named one of the brighter stars after him, telling him it glowed with a beautiful light… just like his soul.
Jak sighed. His soul wasn't a bright light anymore, but a terrible darkness that swallowed everything that it came into contact with.
There was a single window in the cell. Jak had never bothered trying to escape though it because it was too high and had what looked like a force field covering it. A single star briefly shown though. The only star with enough power to shine though the clouds. Jak hadn't seen a star in a long time, because the clouds always covered them. Subconsciously, he wondered if the star already had a name, but he already had a name for it. 'Keira.'
Jak sighed and lowered his gaze, back to the cell walls. "I'm sorry, Keira." Jak said to no one. "I can't remember who I am. That person is dead. I can't remember who I am." Jak looked over at the blood spot, where Sorus' body had laid until it was picked up. "But I will escape… I swear it!" Jak growled.
Jak looked up at the camera that he knew was there. "PRAXIS!" Jak roared. "I'm going to get out of here someday! And when I do… I'm going to KILL YOU! YOU HEAR ME? I'M NOT GOING TO REST UNTIL YOU ARE DEAD! DEAD!"
"Well, it seems that Number Eleven is quite angry with us." Praxis observed. There was no audio, so Praxis and Erol didn't know what Jak was yelling.
"Very angry." Erol agreed.
"Yes, well, increase the Dark Eco exposure." Praxis ordered. "That should break its spirit. After all…" Praxis grinned. "We can't have our weapon backfiring on us…" Praxis laughed.