A/N: Hello! Back again, not sure if anyone is out there but I'm here plugging away. I'm going to try to put out a chapter a month so they will be longer. The story is going to start to get a bit darker after this chapter, and more action. Anyway hope you enjoy it!
Warning: Torture, cussing, suggested non-con touching
Song: Stigmata-Grandson
As soon as she utters the name of her prison the man disappears. Another dream? moans escape her lips as she shifts her weight. The past three weeks have been absolute hell.
Dr. Andrews paced as she wriggled against the bindings of her bed, jotting notes watching her suffer her way through another "experiment". "Oh, Dearest, you are doing far better than I imagined." his grin widened as Hannah finally stilled. Tears stained her face and drool seeped from around the gag that kept her from biting her tongue. Hannah had been tube fed a burning liquid and been prodded with an electric prod. Dr. Andrews had explained that this liquid was supposed to enhance her pain tolerance, but if the readings from the machine attached to her were any indication...it needed work.
Hannah was released from her bonds by the burly hands of the orderlies, brutish fingers grasp her wrists and unceremoniously deposit her in front of the "good" doctor. She lies there in a crumpled heap occasionally twitching, Dr. Andrews crouched down and grasped her chin, forcing her gaze to his.
"Such interesting results Dearest!" his voice climbed with the "praise". When no obvious reaction was given he frowned slightly and snapped his fingers in her face. Bleary, bloodshot eyes opened and attempted to focus on her tormentor with no luck; she slipped back into darkness and knew no more.
"Tsk. Prepare her for rest and clean the room for tomorrow's trial!" he barked to the men standing idly, sending them into a swarm of busy hands.
This experiment continued with different variables and doses over the past three weeks. Dr. Andrews insured never to prod the same places as to keep her tolerance "fresh". At the end of every session, his hands roamed checking her out a little too thoroughly. She was only subconsciously aware of this and when she would regain her senses a feeling of filth and shame would linger beyond her understanding.
In all this time the man never reappears and Hannah is uncertain if she is relieved to be free of what she thinks are hallucinations or worried that it means her brain's only coping mechanism is failing.
Three weeks since he sent that wrench off with his letter, three weeks since he has been spirited away, and Loki is bored. His only company the ever-changing chambermaids and the unoriginal jibes of his guards, Tsk, a gilded cage indeed. Loki's gaze razed the floor to wall bookcases for an unread tome, it is unsuccessful and his patients run out, he flings the tomes in front of him in disgust.
"Well now, is that any way for my son, a Prince should act?" Loki whips around to find the source of the lovely voice belonging to his mother. His search leads him to a full length-mirror, near the entrance of the bathing chamber, in which his mother appeared. Her smile doesn't quite reach her worried eyes and Loki feels a pang of guilt at being the cause.
"My, son, how thin you've gotten!" again the strain in her voice cause Loki's heart to clench. Her concern is met with only a scowl.
It's hard to maintain one's frame when I cannot eat solid food.
A tinkling of sarcastic laughter erupts from his mother's mouth, "True, and yet the stitches would be out faster if you wouldn't threaten and scare every scullery maid that is assigned to you."
This time his bound mouth smiled genuinely, Ah, but with the limited number of books, I had to find some way to entertain myself.
"Is that the reason for your tantrum then?" she chuckles as Loki's cheeks turn rosy.
No, Mother, just insanely frustrated at my predicament and a certain puzzle, whose solution eludes me without further materials for research.
"Ah, a puzzle you say?" Freya asks trying to keep her youngest son talking, "I imagine this is what prompted your letter then?" Loki nods and she continues. "Well I am quite certain your Father," she pauses at his dower glare, "won't allow you to visit the library with the large amounts of complaints you've managed to receive in such a short period. However, if you would trust me with some, not even all, of the details I may be able to gather some relevant materials..." she trails off and Loki weighs his options.
In the end, he decides to trust his mother, after all, if not the one he respects above all others, then who? I am looking for information on links between worlds. Freya looks startled. Specifically between people. Oh, Mother, do not look so frightened I am not plotting my escape just yet. His chuckle is warm and Freya gives him a small grin and nods.
"Anything else my son?"
No, I only have this as a starting place for now...Freya nods and begins to turn away, and mother? She turns back to look at him, Thank you, for everything. She quickly nods and turns away so he doesn't see her eyes beginning to water. For all of his faults, she loves Loki more than anyone could ever understand.
Hannah is exposed to more and more types of pain, once she started showing tolerance to one, Dr. Andrews started to up the ante. The slice of a blade replaces the burning shocks of late, and she soon became covered in neat, surgical stitches. After a rather messy episode of Hannah ripping her stitches open in defiance, the orderlies now place lockable mittens on her hand at the end of each session.
At least I don't have to take those fucking pills anymore. an optimistic thought in a dark moment keeps her sane. It's true, shortly after the tolerance trials began Dr. Andrews removed her pill regime, his reasoning "I want your mind as clear as possible to maximize the reactions." it was whispered into her ear during one of the first nights of the trial. Since then not another pill had passed her lips, and she is ever more painfully aware of her environment and what is being done to her body. Especially with the last dredges of drugs leaving her mind, for the first time in two years, she is free from mind-numbing pills.
While her mind regains itself, her body starts to fail, mainly due to misuse and abuse. Hannah's frame pushes against her taut skin. Her main source of nutrients comes from a tube connected to her vein or shoved down her throat and it is not enough. Especially with the trials and stress, she looks nothing like the woman who two years ago was on the upswing in life. Hannah's only respite is the fact that she is allowed a some-what invasive hygiene regime. A cold blast of water, followed by a rough scrubbing by an orderly, her head shaved once a week, and a closely supervised tooth brushing twice a day. As such her skin is chapped, red and itchy much to her nightly chargain.
Dr. Andrews has grown increasingly "attached" to her as well, seemingly with laser focus, the trials awakening a hunger in him that does not bode well for her. Before every trial or experiment, he commands the orderlies to leave the room when alone Dr. Andrews approaches Hannah's bound form and smiles unnervingly. He greets her with his pet name "Dearest, such exciting results and such exciting plans for the future!" His reverent stare unsettles her more and she glares and screams the best she can while bound and gagged. It doesn't impress the "good" doctor, but he does chuckle at the effort. He then continues his monologue, Hannah tunes him out, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an audience.
At the end of each session she is bathed, and if necessary, stitched up; afterward, a thin slip of cloth is put over her head and she is placed in a small room. It is her world now, Fuck, everything hurts... her body is riddled with a rainbow of bruises and corded scars dot her flesh. With what little energy she has left she stretches unused limbs in an attempt to lessen the aching, it doesn't do much good and she passes out mid-stretch. She dreams...
A familiar figure paces around a beautiful stone room, Wow the sight of the intricate designs and carvings take her breath away. The man turns quickly as if hearing her for the first time, It's HIM! The figure is no other than her mystery visitor, What did he call himself again? Lorfy? Lodi? Misunderstanding her silence, he speaks: "Midguardian...you are here?" he moves forward to touch her and she scrambles away screeching. "Do you not remember me?" He studies her, the wild eyes and battered appearance, much worse than the last time they met.
Hannah is at a loss, an internal tug of war between running away and the hand of the only soul who hasn't hurt her. In the end, the decision is made for her, "Tsk, Midguardian, that is enough. You plague me and beg for my help, yet when I attempt it...you act as if I am your aggressor." Loki strides forward and touches her, and at that moment both Loki and Hannah are pulled from his cell.
Hannah's eyes open and Dr. Andrews is leaning over her with the electrical prod.
"Oh, back again Dearest? You were out for a moment and I was dreading an early end to the trial!" He coos and strokes the instrument du jor, but she isn't looking at her, rather over his shoulder at the piercing green eyes just behind the Doctor.
"Mmmph!" Hannah writhes and silently pleads with the man to help her. Please, please help me! I'll do fucking anything!
Loki's eyes widen slightly at the intrusive thoughts in his head, surprised at the ability demonstrated by the Midguardian. Curious if he could do anything to the sadistic man in front of him, he stretches his lanky arm out and attempts to grab him.
Hannah sees the man's hand go through Dr. Andrews and she screams in frustration, tears running down her face. The reaction startles the Doctor and he drops his probe, he bends down to pick it up leaving Hannah with a full view of Loki. She redoubles her attempts at communicating. Please, please, please, please! Do something, anything!
Dr. Andrews straightens up and readjusts his glasses, "Dearest, I haven't even started again, what has you in such a tizzy?" He raises the probe and sticks into her abdomen, watching her eyes roll back into her head, he chuckles and does it twice more.
Disgusting, Loki's own memories stir and he pushes them down, Tsk, this is not even a quarter of what I would call pain. Even so, Loki walks around the mad doctor to examine Hannah. Sweat slicks her naked body making her glisten under the bright surgical lights, tremors wrack her frame as blood trickles out of her gag. A twinge of sympathy ran down Loki's frame and he reaches out a comforting hand.
He instantly regrets it as his skin begins to itch then transitions to a mild burning sensation. Yet, as he looks around, he realizes it's in fact not his skin. Above him is the man with the probe, he attempts to move and finds "his" arms are restrained. Next, he looks down...and sees a pair of breasts he did not own before. He was in the Midguardian's body! By the Norns!
The lack of pain causes Hannah to gasp in relief, a cool dark numbness washes over her entire being as if she wasn't bound and tortured a few moments ago. She is standing in a ring of light illuminating the middle of a dark room. Hemming on the edges of the lights is what appears to be a tangled web of roots, a quiet humming emanating from them sent calming waves into Hannah's psyche. Curiosity gets the better of her, she stumbles towards the edge only to be met with the thick, gnarled roots, unpassable, unmoveable and undeniably real.
What is this place? Where is Lorki? Lofty? Whatever the fuck his damn name is. Hannah's hands reach out, and for the first time, she notices her skin is unmarred. Curiously she glances down and lets her hands glide across her pale skin, tears prick her eyes at the untortured condition. Almost hesitantly she touches her scalp to find a head of short curled hair; Wh-what? Why? She finally lets it all out screams, tears flowing. The catharsis is long overdue and when it ends she is left in a pile on the floor. Hannah struggles to her feet, strangely she isn't as exhausted as she expected and she uses her remaining energy to look for a way out of the circle. When she finds none, she starts to worry, then panics.
"Lodi? Lonny? ...Damn it! Answer me you lanky FUCK!" her frantic cries echo in the dark and fear starts to settle in.
Loki grins around the gag in his mouth, an old tang of irony blood rests on his tongue, and he is aware that it isn't his own. As uncomfortable as it was, the pain pales in comparison to his own muzzle. The man called Dr. Andrews steps back in surprise at the change in the demeanor of his guinea pig.
"Oh? Is the serum working?" he quickly crosses the room to jot notes on a device before returning with a syringe. "Let's test it some more, shall we?" The long needle is quickly plunged into the stomach of the bound form. "No reaction?"
Loki seeths inside the Midguradians body, while the needle is unpleasant, the indignation is almost more than he could bear. Bastard, Midguradian TRASH! He struggles against bindings but stays silent, save the low, but very feminine, growl coming from his throat.
Dr. Andrews smiles and brings a scalpel from a sterile tray beside him, "Now Dearest, if this hurts, just...shout." he chuckles at his own joke and brings the glinting blade down the closest arm. Loki flinches but makes no sound, instead he plots the man's demise, conjuring images of embarrassment and torture that no human could live through.
Forty minutes later, Dr. Andrews is sweat-slicked, his sleeves rolled up and speckled with blood and flesh. Hannah's body is a mass of torn flesh and bruises, the product of a whip and an eager arm. Loki had uttered not a single noise of complaint, though the flesh shivered in agony and exhaustion, his tolerance was far higher than any lowly mortal. At the absence of tears, cries, or any of her usual reactions, Dr. Andrews amped up his usual methods and got lost in his vigor.
"Now, look what you've made me do, Dearest! Your poor thighs are practically mincemeat!" he pauses to catch his breath, "I think we are finished for the night!" he stretches his back and goes to a panel in the wall shutting off the recording device before returning to the slab. Dr. Andrews glances at the glowering face of the "woman" below him and trails a hand down her face, wiping spots of blood away. The hand never stops its descent and continues down her neck, between her breasts and down her abdomen. At the impending intrusion, Loki finally reacted with a howl and gnashed at the gag, a mild burning kept him from lashing out with the lower limbs. It seems to please the asshole above him and the hand leaves along with the Doctor, he again goes to the panel in the wall and this time presses a button. Minutes later a nurse and orderlies appear, while the nurse avoids looking at the bound form, the orderlies each grab a limb in preparation of defiance.
Loki, infuriated and helpless has no choice but to allow it...then he hears something inside his mind. A small voice growing louder and more urgent. ...you lanky FUCK!
Instantly he is back in his room, a crumpled heap on the floor, a curious guard toeing at him.
"You awake Jouten Bastard?" a particularly strong jab in his spine and Loki is on his feet, his hand around the guard's throat.
"AHH! H-HELP!" he screams for back up, several other guards pour into the room and Loki releases his captive stepping back with his hands held up. The flustered guard scrambles to his feet and retrieves his fallen weapon. As soon as their comrade is up and safe, they enclose him in a circle and met out punishment.
Loki is pushed down, he steels himself for what is to come...a swift kick in the spine forces his a grunt from between his bound lips. Several more follow until a bellowing voice erupts from the doorway.
"ENOUGH!" Thor stands a dark shadow on his face. The crown prince positively radiated furious energy. "Leave...NOW!" they bolted in fear of their lives as Thor steps toward his brother and offers him a large hand. It is swatted away, as the younger god climbs nimbly to his feet, and quickly brushes off the boot marks.
"Loki..." Thor's voice is soft and pleading, ever seeking for the brother he knew as a child. Loki cannot respond but his spiteful glare speaks volumes.
Bastard, what do you want? The first time he's come to visit since I was left to rot in here. Of course, Thor couldn't hear him, Loki had tried to communicate with him like this manner in the past it never worked and he always suspected it was due to Thor's thick skull. Daft fool, thinking I wish to see him after all he's done.
Thor oblivious to the venom being spewed in his direction offers a small smile in Loki's direction. "I-I've come to appeal to Father again." hearing mention of Odin, Loki's look turns evermore dower. "Now, brother, such a look is unbecoming." he chuckles and continues, "If all goes well I hope to have your lips unbound!"
At this revelation Loki perks up, his lips tingle with the hope of being free, If this baffoon manages to convince Odin to remove these stitches...Loki doesn't dare give himself false hope.
Hannah is back in her body, and she hates every second of it. Her thighs are a mess, a thick salve covers the wounds and wrapped in gauze. Any movement triggers a hiss, of pain and she bites her lip and clenches her fists.
As soon as she landed back in her body she screamed, the pain, while dulled it was intense. She was taken to a room and scrubbed where able, the rough cloth exacerbated her skin and tears streamed down her face. The nurses patched her up, and the orderlies deposited her unceremoniously on her hard cot. A syringe of antibiotics was jabbed into her arm and she barely flinched at the minuscule pain detracting from her thighs along with the deep cuts on her arms and abdomen. Dr. Andrews was gone, pitty, he would have enjoyed her reactions. The screams, tears, and rebellion seemed to be one of his guilty pleasures, but he was far too interested in the data collected from this particular trial. He had decided to forgo any further trials until Hannah had healed a bit, he acknowledged that this time he went a bit too far...it was enjoyable, exciting even but a dead patient cannot be subjected to more trails.
Hannah uses the time of rest to contemplate the strange occurrence that spirited her away from her torture. She had already tried to call out to the man again, but he either ignored her or can not hear her. I'm just thankful that whatever it is that happened kept me from being aware while all this fucking damage was caused. Hannah is pissed, to put it mildly, her anger is very justified but she is still unsure what exactly happened. One moment I'm in pain, crying like a bitch...the next poof, I'm in that weird place.
She tries to recall and organize the memory of it, the sights, smells textures anything that would give a hint as to what it was. Real or imaginary. Heh, if Loki weren't involved I would chalk it up to another mental break, but with that man...it seems like it could be real. She stops her train of thought abruptly, realizing for the first time that she had no idea what or who Loki is. He is real, that's for sure, but the things he seems capable of...he can't be human...can he? She further contemplates remembering the whispers and conversations about the attack in New York. While the thought of it sends her anxiety into overdrive, she drives through it the best she can, taking deep breaths to fight off the tremors and closing her eyes to try and fight the tears. Aliens they had said, is Loki an Alien? He doesn't look anything like those...things. But maybe that's a ruse...she attempts to stave off a mild panic attack at the thought of being used by one of the creatures who nearly killed her almost three years ago. Find three things around me and focus on them! In such a barren room, it's a momentous task, she searches the ceiling and finds a water stain. It...it's shaped like a foot...it's yellow...she takes several deep breaths and moves on, finding a cobweb in the corner of the room. Cobwebs...built by spiders, stronger than steel... several more deep breaths, her heart rate slows down. Last she focuses on the dirty window Its grimey, but you can still see the sun...the sun fuck, I feel like I haven't felt that on my skin in forever... a few more deep breaths and she is relaxed enough to get a grip on her tremors.
However, she isn't able to think much more as a group of orderlies and nurses come in with a bucket of water, a tray of food and several syringes.
"Now, here's how this is going to go," starts James the foremost in the group, "we are gonna bathe you, give you these antibiotics and then feed ya. Whether or not you fight us and we have to force all this...is really up to you." his face is hard, but a slightly pleading look can be seen in his eyes. While some of the others might like when patients fight, as an excuse to rough them up, James likes the easy way. He's really only here for the benefits the job provides, while he thinks Dr. Andrews is a major creep, he offers full health coverage cheap and the pay isn't too bad either.
Hannah briefly considers fighting but a singular throb from her abdomen causes her to rethink and she just nods. Her voice is too rough to speak but they understand her nod of compliance. They surround her and assist her into a sitting position while the nurse gently strips her gown. It is an easy task as it is only held in place by a few ties in the back. Once nude the orderlies move in holding her up and moving her around to scrub the exposed flesh.
One or two of the hands start to fondle rather than scrub and she growls, they snicker and revert to a scrubbing motion. For fucks sake, can't I have just one "bath" without this shit?! It infuriates her, but with her strength all but gone, growling is the most she could do, especially if she wants to keep her stitches in place. A few angry tears prick her eyes and the nurse looks away in shame. Damn right you piece of shit, you feel bad. I hope you can't sleep at night. Idle threats make her feel a little less helpless, but that small comfort is destroyed the moment James comes towards her with the clippers. She hangs her head as she feels the rough blades sheer away the tiny amount of fuzz that has managed to grow back. Her tears flow freely now as she remembers the curly hair she sported in the circle of light. How normal it made her feel compared to this is gut-wrenching, especially knowing the reason behind it. What does that fucker want now? she has no time to further question, the nurse injects antibiotics into both thighs and one in her arm. SHIT! it burns, but only for a moment, and it is a small blip on the pain scale compared to what happens next. Her thighs need to be cleaned and re-bandaged, even though the nurse attempts to be gentle, some of the scabs have adhered to the gauze, causing small wounds when they are removed. A silent howl causes the orderlies to grip her shoulders tightly, she clenches the sheets as the nurse applies disinfectant and a salve. Only after the numbing properties from the salve kicked in did the tension leave her face.
"Sorry...I really am." the nurse whispers to her while rewrapping each thigh. Hannah gently places a hand on her shoulder and the nurse freezes in terror. The orderlies inch closer ready to strike but Hannah just motions to the toilet with a pleading look on her face. "Oh." realization hits the nurse and she and James help her up.
"You lot can go now," James tells the others, certain Hannah is going to behave. After relieving herself, she wipes and is led back to the cot. Her thin gown is retied and James puts the tray in front of her. "Eat up, the Doctor wants to interview you or some shit."
Hannah nods, she figured she was getting a visit since James shaved her head. She eats if only to regain her strength, it is strange but after the last trial, she had felt less exhausted than usual. Hannah is thankful for that and starts shoveling food in her mouth, chewing quickly and downing the water. No sooner had she finished, the intercom above her door crackles to life.
"James, bring her to my office I'm ready for her now." Dr. Andrews's voice is all honey, thick and sweet. Nauseating. I'm glad I finished my food already, that would've killed my appetite.
James takes her empty tray and the nurse scuttles out of the room and returns with a wheelchair. "Look at that a carriage fit for a queen!" he says sarcastically, "Up you go your highness." he lifts her and she wobbles to the chair, determined to do most of the work herself. I need to get stronger...
The nurse led the way out of the room and promptly left their company, unwilling to go anywhere near Dr. Andrews if not necessary. "Looks like it's just you and me toots," James says flatly as he wheels her by door after door of moaning, screaming, crying and whining patients. At least I'm not the only one she immediately feels guilty at the thought of others going through the same sort of trials. Fuck this place, fuck that fucking fuck.
They stop in front of a heavy wooden door and James steps forward to knock. Dr. Andrews' voice answers after the first knock. "Come in, come in, don't keep me waiting!" James opens the door and wheels her backward through it. He pushes her in front of the large desk where the Doctor is seated.
"You want me to stay or..." James asks, hoping to be excused.
"Yes, yes you may go," Dr. Andrews says with annoyance, "and close the door on your way out. No interruptions unless it's an emergency!"
No further urging needed, James turns and quickly exits, closing the thick door behind him with a thud.
Hannah glances around the room, bookcases line two walls, the other is dedicated to certificates, framed articles, and diagrams; two large windows take up space behind the desk allowing for massive amounts of sunshine in when the blinds are opened. Unfortunately, they are closed and Hannah can't help but wish they weren't I miss the sun...it felt strange to miss such an everyday thing like the sun but Dr. Andrews isn't letting her mind wander for long.
"Now Dearest, it's been a few days and I hear your condition is improving! Soon we can get back to business." he sounds like a child talking to a favorite toy. All vim and vigor, without actually treating her like a real person. "For now," he continues, "I am going to conduct an interview. I would kindly suggest you cooperate." And there it is the real Dr. Andrews. his voice has taken on a darker tone, full of violent suggestions.
"I-I..." her voice cracks and squeaks. She rubs her throat and coughs.
"Where are my manners?" back to his sickly sweet voice he produces a pitcher of water and a glass. After he pours a generous glass he sets it in reach of her and motions to it, "It's not drugged if that's what you're thinking." I was "I can't conduct a good interview if that were the case." True...she grabs the glass and downs it. He takes a recorder out of a drawer and presses a button.
"Dr. Andrews working out of Bellview in New York, patient number 230082. Conducting a mid-trial interview with serum 949-J32. Now Dea-Hannah, tell me on a scale of 1 to 10 how much pain are you in currently?"
He can't be serious. She stares dumbly at him, mouth working like a goldfish.
"Hannah let me repeat myself, on a scale of 1 to 10 how. Much. Pain?" Dr. Andrews' eyes warn her to comply.
"I guess a 4?"
"Marvelous! And trials previously? More or less?"
"They hurt more but what do you expect when a psycho jabs you with a scalpel?" it hurt to talk but felt good to finally face him.
"Now, now Hannah, no need for hyperbole!" he chuckles like she's some over dramatic teenager.
She frowns and opens her mouth to retort but a single finger raises in warning and she stops. The interview continues with questions of side-effects, psychological questions and even trick questions at the end of it he smiles and asks a surprising question.
"One last question Hannah, what do you want most right now?"
She instantly knew the answer, "I want to get the fuck out of here and into the sun." her voice is fervent. The fiendish grin that spreads across his face makes her regret her answer but nothing immediately happens. He simply turns off the device and calls for an orderly to take her back to her room.
Shit, shit, shit. What did I just get myself into? she is placed inside her room and onto her cot. Unaware of the orderly leaving, she is too deep into her worry. Why couldn't I keep my goddamn mouth closed? It has to be a trap, somehow. She starts to hyperventilate and she starts to spiral.
Suddenly she sees two booted feet in the corner of her eye, she turns to find Loki, watching her.
"Hello, Midguardian. I would like to offer you a deal."
A/N: and that's chapter 6. Please, pretty please leave a comment/review. I need to get better :)