Fast and ghastly his dirty dreams drowned in the muck and mud quicker than the quickest of his demons.

"So, you wear your damage on your sleeves?"

Jax lifted his head, his eyes faded from the blurred image of the viking prick Kabal stood to stare down.

"More fascist than vogue, but victim is chic."

Two his left and wright, the arms were weighted down chains and buckets of water. Though he couldn't feel the liquid, Jax could hear the sparks of electricity from the cables that draped above him.

As the force of urgency rushed like blood to his brain he struggled to pull himself out of the metal bucks, but only chain rattled, water splashed, and cables above him sparked.

Kabal stared blankly down at Jax, no words now, just cold apathy.

How very human.

Kabal looked like a construct of time and space all merged and blended into something of the past and present. Adorned in leather and fur, most comfortable amongst the Russian winters, his body from legs, waist and head had wires and and metal that looped or chained around him. A metal mask with two small rectangular eye slits that glowed a faint green peered down at the tortured man. The mask was sleek, chrome colored and shaped with smooth, but broad curves in the vague shape of a human or skull, or something in the darkness that Jax could make out as he tried to peer through those lit holes.

"Take that fucking mask off, it ain't halloween." Jax spat, Kabal stared.

Slowly his words crawled from the metallic tomb, "Baddiwad millicents."

"The'fuck you saying?"

The cables rattled and sparked above him. He looked up to find the were wrapped in rubber cables attached to two points that, over a rail would allow two of Kabal's agents to shake, dangle, and lower the cables into the water and over Jax's flesh. Kabal took a smooth stride back and let two of the Black Dragon agents begin to lower the cables down slowly for Jax to watch.

"What are you doing?" He screamed down the dark abyss that Kabal had stepped back into. "What do you want?"

"Bog." Kabal repeated, "bog, Jax."

"Th'fuck that even mean?" His tone more urgent, his voice loud and thunderous. "Kabal!"

In singsong Kabal in a low playful voice muttered beneath the metal, "boomaboom." With each repetition the cables lowered an inch until Jax had to crouch his head to avoid the sparks. "Stop."

The command came as a grace to Jax, but the cables remained at his flesh and the sparks pinched and twitched at his bare scalp. Having to crane his neck until the pain was too much to hold in place, Jax watched as Kabal took old of the back of his head and the chin plate of the mask and slowly removed it in the shadowy light he returned to with two long steps.

Just two meters from Jax, he tossed the metallic mask into the left bucket. Just above the eye sockets, two active electrical nodes that lit dim lights to peek through the water like they were the waning red sun.

The young man that stared down at him, face chiseled with apathy from cheek bones to square chin and eyes that saw through the metal and flesh of his victim stared and searched for answers.

"What is the Special Forces doing in Africa?"

"Fuck you!"

"Is that your final answer?"

"Fuck you, Kabal! That's my answer!"

The cables lowered and scratched at his scalp and back, burnt along the metal plating that carved across his upper torso and shoulders until just another foot lower would bubble and toil the trouble of execution.

"Fuck the police." Kabal spat. "Fuck all of your authority bullshit. I have the power here, the Black Dragon has the power here."

Through gritted teeth as the his lungs bared the pain of breath and his body contorted under even the dry electrical currents that burned and pinched at him, Jax leaned his head back into the wiring and stared back up at the outlaw. He smiled, but could pull nothing out of the depths of Kabal not until he spoke again words that sparked greater fires than his flesh would soon emit.

"You're just playing make believe, Kabal!"

Nothing, but Jax continued.

"Pretending you're Kano when you're not even the scum on his shoes. You'll never run the Black Dragon like that fucking piece of shit!"

"Lower the cables." Kabal ordered and turned his back to Jax.

The scream that filed the tunnel, the smell of flesh burnt in beneath the metal. Even for a second before the order came to pull them back, the liquid now coated on those wires melted metal and flesh alive. When Kabal turned, he viewed the lightly scorched earth that had become Jax. Still alive, but only barely. Another dip, he though, and that would do it, but he couldn't.

No.

Not without an answer.

With hand on chin and thoughts carved upon his lips, Kabal stepped forward just a few feet from Jax's almost limp lifeless flesh and admired the cracks and ripples of electrical burns that trickles down from scars carved by the metallic arms.

"I'll spare you the bullshit then, since your brain is probably a little jumbled right now." He prodded further, "where is the Thunder God?"