Fire and ice poured through KJ's body. He felt the earth beneath him shift as he kicked off the landing with such force that the ground broke beneath his boots. Fire : he was going to slaughter them all. Ice : he had no remorse or forgiveness for any of them. They'd taken her from him. He'd become a slave to win her freedom… and they had abandoned her after they twisted her entire existence into something less than human. They'd taken everything, and not even their screams would satisfy his rage.
RAGE. Rivers of blood will pour down the hillside.
Mardoc leaned over KJ's unconscious body, reaching out with the intention to lift him and carry him out of Jefferies' chamber, but just as his fingers lightly brushed KJ's cheeks while he reached to secure the other man's head, KJ awoke. Mardoc had one breath to process as KJ's tawny eyes snapped open with a flash of warning… then KJ was moving, and Mardoc had no choice but to do the same. KJ was only partly released from his waking nightmare, and without thought he lashed out, palm flat as it headed toward Mardoc's throat.
Rage. Every life will be crushed. He would suffer no survivors.
Mardoc snapped his upper body back, just out of the path of that windpipe-crushing blow. He had no time to recover himself as KJ's body moved under the muscle memory of instinctual self-defense. The man hadn't even sat up fully before launching his next attack in the form of a kick to Mardoc's face. Mardoc reached up, grabbing KJ's leg and pushing against it, utilizing KJ's momentum to roll himself across the room, providing himself some room for reaction… and some hope of safety. Mardoc was under no illusions: he knew of the man he currently faced, and if KJ decided his life was forfeit, he would never see the light of day again.
Rage….
KJ zipped across the room in a blur of golden skin and the glimmer of a killer's intent in his eyes. Mardoc didn't even have time for an attempt at self-preservation; instead, he stared into those approaching hell-scorched eyes and resigned himself to fate as KJ fell upon him, his hand clasping Mardoc's throat. The moment stretched out into a thousand as Mardoc closed his eyes, knowing the squeeze that would end him was just a moment away…. And he waited, but nothing came. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked at KJ, who was staring at him with squinted eyes. KJ blinked a few times, and when he spoke, his voice was raw. "...Mardoc…?," he muttered, confusion permeating the name. Mardoc heaved a sigh of relief, realizing that there was no squeeze coming from the hand prepped for his destruction. "Yes," Mardoc half-gasped, body so still that he seemed to hardly breathe at all. KJ paused another moment, letting his hand slide down from Mardoc's throat to rest lightly at his collar bone. He stared into those grey-green eyes as he slowly shook off the weight of his memories.
"Kitoran Jenkins…. Golden Dragon of Bociaccia," Mardoc breathed his name in a sigh. "I have never seen your Beserker mode before…. But I would imagine any army would rue the day that you were unleashed upon them; those poor, ignorant sacrifices to your bloodlust."
KJ snorted and dropped his hand as he stepped back. "The government, in all its wisdom, fabricated that particular story. I did not reign terror on that army because of loyalties or a leash connected to the enemy. I did it because of what they did." His voice dipped to a lower octave, and his fists clenched. His gaze sharpened on Mardoc, and he took the opportunity that the other man's fearful admiration had purchased for him. "If you don't want to become a victim of my Beserker…," he said, voice changing from cold challenge to fierce growl, "...take me to Violet."
Later, KJ would barely be able to recall the trip down to the cells beneath the fortress. He had his cuffs removed, but his hands remained deceitfully bound to look genuinely constraining, yet without actually restricting his movement in the event of disaster. The halls were a blur of gray and bland faces that were irrelevant to him. His chest ached with his need to see her alive and well, and he found himself drowning in his desperation. Part of him would not believe her survival until he held her in his arms, where she would be safe…. With all of this swirling around and breaking his concentration, he didn't realize at first when or why Mardoc had paused before him, and bumped into the man's back. Curious, he peeked around, and froze.
They had arrived in the cells, but they were not alone. There were three other soldiers in the stone path leading up to Violet's prison… and they were tormenting her through the bars. KJ could see her between them: her automail arms had been taken from her, and she was forced onto her knees by a metal collar strapped to the floor by silver chains. There was absolutely no play to the chains, so that she was held fully in place, unable to even pull back away from the hands grabbing at her from the hall. They were ripping at her clothes, leaving parts of her chest and naval entirely exposed to the open air. Her blue plated skirt was in tatters. Blood spattered across her clothing, and random cuts ran in ragged patterns down her torso and legs. Her face was bruised with varying colors across her chin and cheeks. Some of the bruises were recent, and some had yellowed and became purple with age. Her left eye was swollen and black, and KJ was sure some of the orbital bones had been shattered. As he looked on in horror, one of the men exposed himself, rubbing on the bars and demanding vulgar things from her….
KJ's vision went white. In one smooth motion, he twirled around Mardoc and kicked his leg out, aiming for the skull of the nearest soldier with the full force of his jumping twist. The blow landed on the side of his head, just above the man's ear, who hadn't even seen it coming as he'd been reaching through to grip at Violet's chest. It landed, and KJ heard the most satisfying crunch as the bone gave way, and the body was dying even before it hit the floor. The next dead man turned as his friend fell, his crotch still shoved through the bars toward Violet's face, and his expression was still glossed over with desire just starting to be replaced by shock. KJ seized him by the throat and squeezed, watching his eyes bulge and the tiny conjunctival veins burst. His skin turned pale, then became red, and finally blue. KJ held his throat until he was sure that he'd watched him die, then he turned to the trembling third of the group as he released his grip to let the man fall limply to the ground. A distant part of his mind heard the man begging for his life, but he'd seen those hands he currently lifted to defend himself touch her, and he would not suffer him to live. The soldier realized his begging was going no where, and so he struck upward, aiming for KJ's nose. KJ moved his head just enough for the blow to go wide, and he pulled back his fist so that it touched his right hip as he drew backward. Then, utilizing his momentum, KJ twisted his hip forward with a step toward his opponent, turning his upper body to engage his core muscles with extra force behind the blow, then slammed his fist into the man's throat. He felt the windpipe give, and he knew he'd crushed it. The soldier struggled for breath for what seemed like too short a time before collapsing into unconsciousness, then death.
KJ glared at the bodies around him a moment, wishing he could kill them all again. How many times had these wretched creatures come here to violate her…? Slowly, he turned his eyes up to look at Violet through the bars, his rage giving way to grief over her treatment. It was a shock to his stomach when tawny eyes met azure, which shined through as though lit from behind by light. His heart turned flips as he breathed her name, coming to the bars to reach through and touch her cheek with a feather-light brush of skin. Determination lit his gaze, and he narrowed his eyes to slits with his ferocious intensity. "Let's get you out of here," he said with his face pressed to the bars.
Then, he got to work on the lock of her cell door.
…...
"They escaped?!," Jefferies hissed, anger like lightening in his eyes.
"They slaughtered men from one end of the hall to the other, without taking any hits. It seems a sure thing they'll be back for Bougainvillea," the warrior before him forewarned as he headed nonchalantly toward the exit, gun cocked at the ready. "If you wish to keep him under your thumb, I'd recommend you flee to the safehouse with your pretty, precious bagage... S'up to you." He shrugged one massive shoulder and departed, leaving Jefferies to seethe in silence.
But, as he simmered in his frustration, a plan slowly formed in his mind. This may just break that big oaf to my will…. Jefferies thought to himself, and aggravation broke like the rolling tide a the shore, and smoothed over the sand with a gentle hiss. Perfect…. He stood, and slowly made his way to the bedchamber where Dietfried rested. He started to knock, but the door was yanked open and a very flustered, bed-ruffled Bougainvillea burst into view. Dietfried spotted Jefferies and peered back at him with round, startled eyes. Jefferies shifted his expression into the one he used to tell families that their soldiers were not coming home. Jefferies cleared his throat.
"Well, good. You're up," he said, watching carefully as Dietfried tensed as if in anticipation of being struck down. "I might as well get to the point, then…. There was an...incident last night. Your tool is broken… beyond repair this time."
Dietfried stared at him numbly. "What…? Do you mean she's… dead? Violet is dead?" Jefferies nodded, and Jefferies watched as the former captain's face shut down. All emotion drained from that face, which was suddenly stoic and slightly haughty, as if his expression took on the indifferent tone and one word: And? A single dark eyebrow raised over his cold green eyes, as if awaiting further information.
"Alas, we must move locations immediately," Jefferies continued, his tone changing with chilled formality. "I must insist that you be sedated for this part of our journey, but it will be a different medication this time, so no hallucinations…." He raised his hand, and an awaiting guard with him moved in swiftly, needle in hand, to sedate the big man that stood frozen to the spot. After the injection, Dietfried fell to the floor, losing consciousness swiftly as the drug overtook him. The apology in Jefferies' face dropped off as Dietfried's eyes closed, leaving behind a cruel indifference. He took a deep breath, clasped his hands behind his back, and looked at the guard. "Prepare him. We depart in one hour." Then, he took his leave without looking back.
….
Author's Note: Many apologies to you all for the incredible delay of this chapter! I have rewritten this what feels like 100 times… I just couldn't get it to FEEL right. Quick shout out to my wonderful reviewers – your encouragement got me through that time of frustration! You are all so appreciated!