Dark Inheritance

Chapter 20

Warning: Mature themes discussed

Consciousness gradually returned through the haze of his slumber. The fog finally began to clear – along with the memories of the previous few hours. The sharp sensation from the dart Gail had shot him with still remained, albeit very faint. She'll pay for that he thought.

JC opened his eyes and took stock of his situation. He lay on an army cot against a wall in an enclosed chamber. Light came from a few overhead lights several feet away, making things visible but still shadowed were he lay. The other chamber walls were transparent, including the ceiling and door on the wall to the left of his bed. A few holes and slots were high on the walls and ceiling to maintain air flow. A small sink and toilet sat against the same wall as the bed in front him. The 'cell' sat in what looked like a wide darkened corridor. Nothing could be seen beyond the lights.

JC sat up and turned to put his feet on the floor. It felt cold to the touch. He looked down and saw he was barefoot. A think shackle and chain were on his right ankle, the chain attached the floor at the foot of his bed. He checked the rest of himself and saw he was still down to his t-shirt and jeans. The band on his right wrist was still there. Nothing else remained: His mask, pack, phone, wallet, watch, and lighter were gone. He quickly checked around his neck and found that the silver pendant from Judith was gone too. That sickened him twice, for his connection with her and her betrayal.

Et tu, sis? He couldn't believe it. How could she do that? After everything he'd done, all the months trying to get her out of this nightmare, she'd turned on him. Just like their parents. Just like every other member of their family. Her words to him gave him pause; she'd said she had no choice. Bull, he thought. Yet, part of him wanted to believe there was another explanation. He couldn't handle it otherwise.

A noise got his attention. Footsteps approached. Shortly five guards, male and female, emerged from the dark and gathered near the cell door. Security batons were on their belts. They didn't look happy.

"Stand near the door." One of them instructed. JC looked confused. The guards gripped their batons. "Stand near the door!" they commanded again. JC got the message. He stood between the bed and the door and put his hands up. One of them unlocked the door. Two came in and patted him down. JC debated if it was worth clocking them with a surprise attack. No good; he was out numbered and out gunned. Finding nothing, another guard came in with a set of heavy-looking restraints. "Hands forward." They said. JC did so. The guard took his hands and cuffed him, the two ends connecting together magnetically. One of the first two undid the shackle on his foot. "Come with us." They instructed. "No sudden moves."

They led him out of the cell and down a dark hall. The floor was cold on his bare feet. All five surrounded him as they walked; he could tell their eyes were always on him. Soon they came to an elevator. Getting on, one pushed a button for an upper floor. JC noted that the gauge showed they were in some basement level. Reaching the desired floor, they escorted him down a normally-lit hall to a large set of doors. Opening the door, JC saw what awaited him.

A large conference tables with chairs lay long ways near the far end of the room. Nearby was another chair facing them. A large video screen stood behind and off to the left of the conference table. At a nearby desk was a woman with a typing device. Seated at the tables facing him were some familiar faces: William, Marcus, Gail, and another woman JC met once; long blonde hair, blue eyes, well-dressed. Julie Stone, daughter of the president of one of the largest banks in the country – and Marcus's fiancé. All four smiled at JC, but he didn't feel welcome.

"JC, nice of you to join us. We trust you had a good rest." Julie said. JC got the feeling she didn't like him.

"Figures you're involved. Helping my cousin finance his experiment?"

"It's quite the endeavor." Julie answered. "So many wish to be involved. Strange how some don't." She eyeballed him as she said this.

JC regarded his uncle. "We meet again. So soon after last time."

"Yes, quite the experience. Lucky for you, no one was hurt." William said.

"If we could get started, everyone." Marcus said. "JC, please have a seat."

JC sat down. "Is this a trial?"

"Not really." William answered. "More of an…evaluation."

"Then why is there a stenographer?" JC asked, cocking his towards the other woman. She'd been typing all their dialogue since he arrived. Still was. "Stop that." She kept typing. "I said stop." Typing. "'The person typing this is an idiot.'" The woman stopped and gave him an exasperated look.

"Shall we proceed?" Marcus insisted. The four opened several files before them. Gail pressed some keys and the screen displayed an image: JC, at a younger age, likely from an old album.

"Joshua Caleb Reinhardt, age 16." Gail announced. JC gritted his teeth; it bugged him that his initials stood for that.

"Regular developmental background, decent academic performance, considerable physical prowess, though no real focuses on sports or other activities." Gail turned to another page. "Well-trained in Karate, earning your brown belt." She nodded, honestly impressed. "However, you advancement is on hold because, according to your instructor, you…'lack the spiritual harmony to progress further'." She smiled at him at that comment. JC was not amused.

"Overall, you were about normal." Julie stated. "No real issues, no problems – you generally stayed out of trouble." She flipped through some pages. A wry smile crossed her face. "But then, you turned sixteen." A new image came on the screen. The room in his uncle's home, clearly after he was shot. It was a wreck: damaged furniture, scorch marks, like a train had run through it. I did that? He wondered.

"On your sixteenth birthday, right in the middle of the festivities, you released a surge of power." William said. "You caused a great deal of damaged, resulting in the death of at least one of your relatives."

Aunt Rose. "It was an accident. I was shot."

"Shot because you started a fight during your own birthday party." William pointed out, shaking his head. "You even ruined the dinner we'd set up, knocking your sister's out of her hands."

"You tried to drug us." JC retorted.

"Only to avoid an incident." Marcus stated. He turned some more pages. A picture of his old home appeared on the screen. "The next day, we found you at your parent's place after you ran away. When we tried to explain things to you, you attacked one of our employees, cracking several of his ribs, even breaking a few."

"You shot me. Again. With a dart that time." JC said.

"Again, only to avoid a confrontation. All we wanted to do was keep you safe." Marcus said, sounding disappointed. "You even broke into Judith's new home, intending god-only-knows-what." Marcus eyed him. "You defaced the wall and threatened your own pediatrician before running away."

JC kept him mouth shut. A new picture: Ayla Perkins, the girl he saved from their experiments at his new school.

"Ayla Perkins, age sixteen." Gail said. "Determined to be a Hidden Sun inheritor. Upon discovery, we attempted to recruit her, with the help of her teacher, Mr. Jenkins. However, for whatever reason, you interfered with our efforts, resulting in Miss Perkins entering a coma. Seems like you didn't give her a choice in the matter."

"You didn't give her a choice." JC said, getting annoyed. "Your stooge Jenkins drugged her to awaken her abilities. That's what put her in a coma."

"If you say so." Gail replied. The continued through all of his actions: The "recruitments" of Alice Belmont and Chelsea Harmon that he thoughtlessly interrupted, and how he'd injured two of their nurses in the process. The raid at the warehouse where he stole vital company property. Next was the intrusion of the lab under his Uncle's house. A picture of his sword appeared on the screen. JC was pleased and irritated at seeing his weapon.

"You broke into you own uncle's home, bypassed his security, and stole a Reinhardt family heirloom." Julie said, looking in awe at the weapon.

"I didn't steal it."

"Beg pardon?" William said. "We have clear footage of you using it on several occasions. You even held it right in front of me."

"Yes, but I didn't steal it." JC insisted. "Stealing implies ownership. It's not stealing if it doesn't belong to the person. I just reclaimed it."

"Oh?" Marcus said, intrigued. "You claim to be the owner of such an ancient, prized artifact?"

"It belonged to my ancestor. I'm his genetic descendant, as you've kept pointing out." JC said with conviction. "It's rightfully mine."

"Yet you use it to cause all kinds of destruction and chaos." Gail pointed out. "If you won't use it responsibly, you can't have it."

This was getting aggravating. The group continued to deride everything he'd done. They talked about their 'contacting' Kayslee, how they wanted to help her career before he'd come in and pulled her away. How he'd led her and the others into their lab at the Interzone and 'kidnapped' Andre while they were helping him understand his powers. Infiltrating and destroying a cargo of their vector. And then manipulating all of the others into raiding their 'base' with the intention of 'kidnapping' his sister.

"All these actions are very serious, JC." Marcus said. "But your last two are most distressing." A picture of Chelsea Harmon, their latest victim and his close personal friend, appeared on the screen. "We formally accepted Miss Harmon into our fold with the full intention of treating her like royalty, as befitting one of the Nephilim. We even invited you to share in that life." The picture changed. An image of Dr. Chekov, the one holding Shaun and had sent Chelsea to the surgeons, was displayed from the day JC had dealt with him: Tied up with his own belt with his pants down. JC chuckled at the memory.

"Is this funny to you young man?" It was Gail who responded. "It wasn't for Dr. Chekov, whom you beat and tied up for looking after Shaun Harmon. Not to mention the two other doctors you assaulted while they were taking care of Chelsea Harmon."

"She was kidnapped and forced into their care." JC retorted. "After you people had her grandparents killed."

"Their deaths are unfortunate, yes." Marcus conceded. "However, one must look at the big picture. Mr. and Mrs. Harmon were old, and unable to help their granddaughter reach her full potential. Her life would have stagnated. We gave her the opportunity to become more than what she was. An opportunity we extended to you, with disastrous results."

"And just a few days later," Julie chimed in, "you infiltrated your uncle's house – again – and tried to kill him. With the very sword you stole."

There was silence for a while. Finally Marcus spoke up. "Are you seeing what we're seeing, cousin?"

JC shrugged innocently.

"We see a constant, unrelenting pattern of reckless, destructive behavior by someone too foolish or too narrow-minded to understand the consequences of their actions." Marcus accused. "You think nothing of resorting to violence to get what you want, and willfully disrupt any efforts of our project out of pure spite. And this project was to include you as well. You could benefit completely from it." Marcus paused. "Do you feel any remorse for your actions?"

JC was silent still.

"Have you anything to say in your defense, then?"

"I've said all I needed to say, 'cousin'." Because you're full of it.

Marcus and the others nodded. "As you wish." He addressed the guards standing nearby. "Return him to his quarters." The guards came up and roughly pulled JC and escorted him from the room.

…

Upon, returning JC to his cell, then guards shackled him back in his cell and removed the cuffs. Exiting, they locked the door and addressed him directly.

"Now that we have time to talk, let's go over your situation." One of them said. "This cell is made from one inch thick reinforced acrylic, with sensors tied to every surface. You try to escape, you so much as scratch the surface," he pressed a button on a control pad, opening two vents on either side of the floor in his cell, "gas from these vents will put you out in a matter of seconds. Understand?"

"Impressive." JC quipped. "Though a little overkill for one teenager, don't you think?"

"Hardly." One of the other guards said. "You've shown how dangerous and irresponsible you are, and no one's taking any chances."

"Wow," JC said. "It must just burn you up that a punk like me made you look like a bunch of fools."

"If we're the fools how come you're the one in the acrylic cage?" The guards chuckled. They turned to leave. "Let us know if you want a magazine or something."

"How about the latest Penthouse issue?" JC called after them. "It'd be nice to see what your mom's been up to." The guards muttered some curses towards him before leaving completely.

JC looked around his cell. Surely, there had to be a way to get out. The walls were indeed thick and sturdy; they didn't budge at all when he applied pressure. He checked the door; no luck either, the lock was heavy-duty and couldn't be picked. Not that it mattered; with his stuff taken he had no means to pick it in the first place. No phone, no gear, no powers – it seemed his options were limited, if any existed at all.

He sat down on the cot and tried to think. I really did it now, didn't I? he thought. Why did I think I could end this so easily? His thoughts again drifted to Judith and her betrayal. Why sis? How could you do this to me? A horrible thought crossed his mind. What if that's why she didn't escape with me when I found her? Had she already agreed to help them? That made no sense; she'd helped him a few times by sending him information. Why would things change now? His mind raced with the possibilities.

…

The cell was dead silent. The few lights nearby barely lit the area. There was no sign of life. JC felt cut off from everything. Gradually the feeling isolation increased, and with it, fear and desperation. He knew he had to escape but he couldn't. Where would he go anyways? The only route led to the elevator and they'd likely nab him right away. He could always try to fight his way out, but knew that he was at a complete disadvantage. All roads led back to his confinement.

He thought about the road that led him to this point. This all happened because ages ago, some being created his family line. They'd prospered, growing powerful enough to run an entire conglomerate. And they used that power to – take advantage of the very people they were supposed to protect. JC found that amusing: He wondered if his ancestor, or even the Progenitors themselves, could have foreseen that this would happen. He recalled his dream from when Alice first took him in: Wandering among the visions, seeing what had happened. The last one stuck out: Two versions of him, one dead in a pool of blood, the other shackled to the floor. The meaning had been clear; death or enslavement was in his future. He'd shaken his head in defiance, demanding a third option. He'd thought he'd found one; fight back. Perhaps that was wishful thinking. It seems I only delayed the inevitable. He'd found some solace though; Alice and the Belmont family had taken him in, treated him like family, supported him in all his endeavors and –

- And he'd walked out on them, trying to 'make things right' instead of using his head. What did he have to show for it? He was held prisoner by a group of lunatics determined to use him and others like him as a stud. The thought sickened him. That's what they have planned for Judith too he thought anxiously. Does she know? Did she agree? Not possible. She's not like that. She's…she's… JC didn't know what to think anymore. His whole life felt gone. I did this to myself he thought. They took my life from me, but I jumped at them when I shouldn't've. I got a second chance and threw it away.

Despair started to overwhelm him. He'd been so stupid to oppose them. All their talk about 'potential' and 'destiny'; maybe they were right. If he'd just done as he was told, he wouldn't be here. It made sense. Maybe if he just –

JC shook his head as the thoughts scattered. What happened? He thought. He didn't feel that way at all. Those thoughts had intruded into his mind. He knew one person who could do that: Kayslee. Her powers allowed her to do that. Any Crimson Lord could do that to a degree.

"Who's there?" he called out. No answer. Whoever did was somehow nearby to influence him but able to stay hidden. Even incarcerated, they tried to manipulate him. "Don't do that again." He said loudly. He lay down on his cot and tried to shut out any other thoughts. Sleep overcame him eventually.

…

"Cousin."

JC woke up to see a familiar yet unwelcome face. Marcus had come down to see him. JC glared at him. "What do you want?" he asked.

"I just want to see how you are." Marcus said plainly. "Sorry about the accommodations. But you didn't give us any choice."

"You had plenty of choices!" JC said, standing to face him. "You didn't have to do any of this!"

Marcus cocked his head to one side. "JC, I just don't understand you. Do you know how many people your age would kill for the opportunity we offered you?"

"People don't like being used." JC stated. "Your 'offer' meant signing myself over to you and you cronies. I'm no one's slave."

"Slave?" Marcus said, confused. "Do any of our employees here seem enslaved? Miserable? Not at all."

"They chose to work for you." JC retorted. "You likely promised them power and status if they joined your project. You tried to force it on me and my friends."

"Well, you and your friends need guidance." Marcus chided. JC was getting annoyed. "If you kids won't make the smart decisions, they'll be made for you." He shook his head. "Well, no matter; since you rejected our offer, we need to reevaluate your potential contribution to our cause."

"I don't care about you or your cause, Marcus." JC said angrily.

"Oh?" Marcus said with a smug look. "You really should. After all, this project's the reason you exist."

"Excuse me?"

"We told you about how the family has made sure the bloodlines stayed strong. Ever wonder how we did that?"

JC didn't like where this was going. "Don't tell me I was born in a test tube."

"No," Marcus said in exasperation. "But it was arranged that your mother and father would get together. Our research showed they were genetically compatible and would produce offspring with strong godgenes. And it worked." JC looked stunned. "Oh, don't misunderstand. They love each other and likely always will. That, however, wasn't necessary for our purposes, just an added bonus. Pity the results weren't perfect."

JC glared at him more. "Are you saying you forced my parents to be together?"

"Not me, I was only fourteen when they met." Marcus pointed out. "Your grandfather made the arrangements, rest his soul. They were quite taken with each other, as I said, so it was easy."

JC's mind reeled at this revelation. He knew he'd been manipulated his whole life, but this…his existence had been arranged. Was he ever in control of his life?

Marcus seemed satisfied. "I'll let that sink in. Hopefully it will put things in perspective for you." He walked away as JC sat on the bed, trying to comprehend what he now knew.

…

"JC, wake up."

JC rolled over and looked at his new visitor. His eyes narrowed as he recognized the figure.

"Father."

James Reinhardt stood at the door of his cell, a sympathetic look on his face. JC didn't buy it; the man he thought he could trust had betrayed him in the worst way.

"Son, are you alright?" he asked. It was a stupid question.

"Oh, yeah I'm great." JC answer sarcastically. "Considering my civil rights are being violated."

"JC, I'm sorry." James said, his voice emotional. "Your mother and I, we never wanted this for you or your sister."

"The hell you didn't!" JC yelled, getting up and moving toward him. "I read about your project! I know you and mom got together for the sake of creating someone like me!"

"Did Marcus tell you that?"

"So you're not denying it?"

James took a deep breath. "Yes. That was the reason we met." JC felt disheartened at that. "But that's not why I was with her. I love your mother, and we both love the two of you."

"Yeah, hell of a way of showing it." JC fired back. "If you really cared you wouldn't've let this happen in the first place." JC paused. "Where's mom anyways?"

"Consoling your sister." James said. "She's very upset over what's happened to you."

Oh, the irony JC thought.

"JC, listen." James said, completely serious. "I came to warn you about the evaluation. They're considering disinheriting you from the family."

JC thought for a moment. "Really? That's the big issue? I haven't been loyal to this family for ages. What's it matter now?"

"Everything." James warned. "Haven't you noticed they've gone easy in you since this started?"

"Easy? I've been shot, stabbed, cut, and drugged. How is that 'easy'?"

"Compared to how they usually treat interlopers, yes." James answered. "They've been lenient since you're family and a Nephilim besides. But if you're disinherited, all that protection goes away. You'll be treated like the common criminal they see you as."

JC thought about that for a moment. "So they'll, what? Turn me over to the police? Let them. I'm not scared."

"That's not how they handle things, son." James warned. "Those who do the things you've done don't get to gloat about them. If you're disowned, they might just execute you."

The thought sunk in for JC. He'd accepted that he'd be risking his life, even came close a few times. But the idea of being wiped out, with no chance to escape? The thought terrified him. "But…you won't let them do that, will you, dad?"

"It won't be my decision." James insisted. "I won't be able to help you."

"I'm your son!" JC yelled. "You're supposed to help me in times like this! Just open the door and let me run to the exit. I won't look back."

"You'd never make it." James said sadly. "They'd get you before you got 50 feet. These people don't joke around."

JC was fed up. "You're right, father, it's no joke. But you know what is a joke? You. You, mom, and your style of parenting. You planned to turn my sister and me over to these monsters ever since before we were even born. You set us up, stabbed us in the back, and just stood there while they took advantage of everyone around them. And now you say they'll kill me and you just sit there? Fine. Let them kill me and turn your daughter into a baby maker. And when your grandchildren are old enough you can tell them the story about how their uncle died because you weren't man enough to do the right thing when it counted!" JC stopped to catch his breath after his rant. He walked back over to his bed and sat down, facing away from his father. James put his hand on JC's cell.

"JC, I'm sorry." His father said weakly. "I know you think your mother and I betrayed you, but we didn't. Not in the way you think. Believe it or not, we're on your side." He turned and walked away quietly, leaving JC all alone once again.

JC snorted. "I showed him."

Still, JC couldn't help but wonder if those indignant words he said to his father would be his last.

…

"Wake up, kid."

JC looked over and saw the guards were back. They each had a smug look on their faces.

"Judgement time."

…

JC was led back to the conference room. More people were there this time. His mother, father…and Judith. I'm sorry she mouthed with a sad look on her face. His parents looked sadly at him as well. JC tried to ignore them.

"Well, JC." Marcus said. "It took a while for us to make our decision, considering the seriousness of your crimes."

JC swallowed. Was this it?

"However, after careful discussion, we've decided not to disinherit you from the family."

James, Sarah, and Judith all looked relieved. JC felt some relief, though something told him there was more.

"However," William picked up. "We cannot condone the terrible things you've done. Your actions are reprehensible and demand consequences."

JC didn't like that. His parents and sister looked tense.

"We feel," Gail said. "That a main reason you resist us is because you don't appreciate what our project has to offer. If you saw how the other half lived, perhaps that would change your perspective."

"Guards," Julie said, standing up and pointing at JC. "Take him to Purgatory!"

"No!" Judith cried out, running around the table she sat at. Her parents stood as well. "This isn't what you promised!"

"Calm down, Judith." Marcus said.

"We had a deal Marcus! You said you wouldn't hurt him if I brought him to you!"

"We know, dear." William cut in. "But your brother's done some nasty things. He needs to be punished."

"You can't do this!" Judith snarled angrily.

"Your brother's not then only one who needs to adjust their attitude." Julie warned. She turned back to JC. "Take him away."

The guards roughly grabbed him. Judith ran at him and reached out. JC tried to pull away and reach her hand. The guards were too quick. He was grabbed and dragged away. Judith called out as he was hit in the head. His world went black...

…

A slap woke him up. His situation had gotten worse, if that was possible. He was suspended off the floor by his hands hanging by the cuffs they'd put on him. It was dark. He could make out that he was in an enclosed room. There were no windows; small lights along the edge of the ceiling provided the only illumination. He'd been dressed in what looked like a white cotton shirt and pants outfit; his feet were still bare. His mouth tasted like rubber; a mouth guard-like object covered his tongue and left a small tube sticking out of his mouth, allowing him to breath. It reminded him of what McSherry had in that movie. Uh oh…

"He's awake" someone said flatly. Several people stood around him. In addition to the standard guard outfits, each wore a gas mask which concealed their faces. Each also had a long staff-like object in their hands. One of them stood beyond the group, overseeing the process. "Commence atonement." They instructed.

The other guards obliged. One guard jabbed JC with their staff. JC screamed through his gag as a painful current ripped through his body on contact. He started to recover from the shock when another struck him. Every couple of seconds one of them attacked his body; each time his body was wracked with pain that coursed through his nervous system. He was almost glad for the mouth guard; without it he might have bitten off his own tongue. Their speed and frequency increased until his was limp and his mind in a daze. They finally stopped, seemingly satisfied with their work. He felt them undo his wrist shackles and drop him to the floor of the room. He was dragged by his arms out into the corridor. The light was equally bad, though he could still make out some details. They passed by several sturdy-looking doors lining the walls of the hallway. There were no sounds other than footsteps of his captors. No one said anything; there was an eerie silence as they dragged him. Soon they came to the end of the hall where another door stood. One of the guards typed a code into a keypad and the door slid open with a soft hiss. The two unceremoniously tossed him into the chamber and it slid closed just as silently. He couldn't even hear any footsteps as they left.

JC's body recovered enough for him to move. He looked around to get his bearings. The room was dimly lit from small lights along the ceiling edges like everywhere else but he could tell it was another cell, the standard six by eight feet in size. The walls were a sturdy, dark metal, smooth with no give to them whatsoever. A small mattress was stuck to the floor near the back wall. A toilet was nearby as well. In the wall was a small alcove that looked like a drinking fountain. Above them were two sets of mess grates on either side of the wall. JC looked closer at the fountain; instead of water it was some clear, slightly more viscous substance. JC hesitantly tried to taste it; it was bland, but satisfactory to his stomach.

How long had it been since that last dinner he had with the others? The memory saddened him; another reminder of what his life had become. It came with another horrible realization: He had no idea how much time had passed since he'd left. Are they looking for me? He thought. It was possible, though risky. He could only hope his absence hadn't doomed the others to a similar fate. He thought about trying to escape, like he had in the other cell. It was pointless; this place was even more secure that the other. He checked his right wrist and, yes, the restraint was still on. He tested the door, wondering if he could make a fuss and trick them into opening it and coming in. No chance; the door would not budge at all, and hardly made an echo even in the small chamber. It was doubtful even the guards would hear him. He recalled the other doors they passed on the way to his cell; what if they contained prisoners like him? He heard nothing, but that seemed to be the point. No one could hear him, or anyone else. This place was completely cut off from the rest of the facility. Maybe I'm not even in the main facility anymore he thought fearfully. He quickly dismissed the thought; they would have to keep everything together to keep operations simple. JC sat down on the mattress and held his knees to his face. I can't give up he thought. I have to figure something out – or at least try to get through this. He did his best to keep himself calm.

…

Time passed. He wasn't sure how long, there was no clock or any other reference in this place. No one checked on him; there was no sound other than his own breathing. That, and a soft hissing sound that was definitely new. JC looked around and tried to pin down the source. It was louder near the grates on the wall. As he got closer, he started feeling a little numb. Soon, his legs could barely hold him up. What could be causing… The realization hit him. The grates. The sound. He was being gassed!

He tried to get to the other side of the cell but it was too late. His legs gave out, sending him to the floor. Soon, he was unable to move at all. To his surprise, his mind remained clear. Clear enough to hear the door open and people came in. Once again he was picked up and dragged down the hall. They came to another room, this once with an ominous-looking chair sitting in the middle. Several monitors and machine were connected to it, all manned by people in lab coats and gas masks, like the others. JC wanted to struggle but his body wouldn't obey. He was placed in the chair, his hands, feet and head restrained. A new gag was placed in his mouth. A visor-like device was put around his head, with two pads pressing against his temples. He heard the machines powering up just as a surge came from the pads and into his brain. The current probed deep into his mind, seeking out the depths of his memories…

He stood, surrounded by his uncle and his henchmen. His uncle glared as he pointed at him gave a command. The others pulled their weapons and opened fire. The bullets tore into him, spilling his lifeblood in blotches of crimson. He fell to the floor as his body went cold…

"Sir, he's resisting.

"Increase the power."

Ayla stood before him, looking reverently at Mr. Jenkins. Mr. Jenkins gave her a command and she nodded in obedience. Summoning her power, she was engulfed in a pillar of fire. JC reached out to her, begging her to stop. She looked at him with a smile as her body was reduced to a pile of ashes. Jenkins looked at him and laughed. He couldn't save her…

"JC, it's Alice!"

Diana…

"They got her, JC! They came looking for you and they grabbed her! She's gone!"

Wait, we have to…

"She trusted you, JC. She took you in and you led them to us. It's all your fault—"

"Still resisting."

"Next level, then."

"So soon?"

"Do it."

"What's wrong with you JC? You said you would keep us safe."

Chelsea…

"But with your little 'crusade', you made enemies, and we were never safe."

I didn't mean too…

"JC, I trusted you. My family trusted you. You should've known you couldn't always be there."

No. That's not…

"JC Reinhardt, your actions are inexcusable. You are a disgrace to this family. There is no place for you in our organization. Effective immediately, you are disinherited from the Reinhardt family!"

Wait, stop…

"As a result, any protection you may have had is hereby revoked. You will die, by our hand."

They marched him out into the amphitheater, the stands filled with people shouting insults at him: Liar, monster, traitor. Calling for his death. He was taken to the center, forced to lay face up on a stockade that restrained him around his neck. Next to him stood his mother and father. His mother handed her husband a sword. JC's sword. His father brought the weapon down upon his neck as his vision turned red-

"Resistance increasing. He can't take much more…"

"Max level. Now."

"Sir, he won't survive…"

"Those are your orders."

"How could you, JC? You promised to help me escape."

Judith…

"But in the end, you abandoned me for you own selfish desires. I guess that's one thing I share with our family about you: Disappointment."

No, that's not…

"I thought you were different from the others. That you cared. But you were just using me, just like everybody else."

Wait, I didn't…

"And when the wolves came for me…you were nowhere to be found."

…no…

The visor was removed from JC's head. His face and shirt were soaked with sweat. He sat there in a daze. The attendant shined a light into his eyes.

"Still responsive? That should have rendered him catatonic."

"He resisted pretty well. He may have some kind of defense."

"Or he's just stubborn. They warned us about that."

"Pity. That would have served him well in our company. Now it'll just prolong his suffering."

They removed his other restraints and picked him up. JC was too out of it to react. They took him back to his cell and placed him on the floor before leaving him alone once again. Gradually, JC came to his senses. He knew those memories weren't real; just dark reflections of his real ones. But their effect, the fear and despair they brought, stayed with him. Like a dark stain on his psyche that might never come out.

It's official. He thought. This place sucks.

~To be continued