People, if you don't like Texas Chainsaw Massacre, or Saw, don't read this. It's probably not as bad as those, but this chapter is worst than my previous ones. My others chapters didn't really have anything in them like this, anyways, but ok. Give me a break, will ya? I don't own SG Atlantis or its characters, but I DO own Senave and Jossen. Ok, then...

Chapter 10

"Please...please stop," John pleaded. He didn't know at what point he'd resorted to begging, but God, he was hurting. He breathed heavily onto the ground, closing his eyes, just hoping he would wake up in Atlantis.

"You will tell me what I want to hear. And I will make the pain stop," Jossen said wryly.

"I don't...I don't know...what you want," John panted, opening his eyes.

"Well, you should, by now," Jossen sneered.

John felt sick, beaten, low. He just wanted out. "I don't," he breathed, his eyes sliding close again.

What does this guy want from me?

He was kicked onto his back, then he felt a clawed hand grip his neck, and he opened his eyes, realisation cutting through him.

"No," he breathed, trying to stay calm. "I'm not telling you that," he said, trying a little more forcefully.

The hand was removed from his neck, but the claws dug into the flesh of his abdomen, tearing across, blood streaking his torn shirt. He let out a pained, horrific shriek as he pulled away from the red-skinned man...creature standing beside him.

"This can be quick and painless...or it can be slow," he said, tracing a talon along the side of John's face, "and painful. It is your choice, Colonel."

When John didn't answer, he was brought to his feet, only to be struck down again. His face hit the ground hard, he could taste the blood in his mouth, in his throat, he could smell it, feel it running down the side of his face, into his hair. He wondered how much he could bleed before it brought him death.

He was jerked up by his hair, the rocks digging painfully into his knees, and a sharp object was placed at his neck.

"Tell me, or I will prolong your suffering," Jossen hissed. "What is your command code?"

"It's called identification code," he slurred, then brought his elbow back, aiming low. Low enough. "Go to hell," he said through gritted teeth.

Jossen let out a cry, but recovered quickly. "This is hell," Jossen snarled, driving the dagger through John's flesh, tearing muscles, snapping veins, his blood gushing surprisingly rapid, staining his shirt, he felt the blood trail down his side, drenching his pants.

Jossen hauled John to his feet, hearing a satisfying cry of pain, and threw him against the boulder, once again. He held him there by his throat, twisting the knife, then leaned closer, pressing the blade further through the skin, through arteries, wrenching the life from his body.

The blade was jerked from John's torso, causing blood to spray out onto the ground, covering Jossen, covering everything.

John tried to breath, but he coughed on the crimson liquid flooding his lungs. Fire burned throughout his body as he fell to his knees, trying to stop the bleeding. He leaned forward, coughing painfully, blood streaming from his mouth, trickling from his nose as he tried to take in a breath.

Jossen kneeled beside him, his foul breath attacking Sheppard's sense of smell, or what was left of it. John put one hand on the ground, trying to keep himself from tumbling, and his right hand on his side, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. The pain was obvious, represented by blood and pain-filled moans, but he tried to keep a look of determination across his face. He tried. But failed. The pain took over, his eyes watered, but the tears never formed.

"All you need to tell me is a simple code," Jossen said. "And the pain, the bleeding, the suffering. I'll make it stop. Well, not the suffering, but everything else."

John coughed again, blood streaming through the crevices of jet black rock, like little red rivers.

"Take-" John was cut off abruptly by the piercing pain in his side, but continued a moment later, his voice barely audible. "Take what you came for. 'S'all...you're gon' get."

All he earned was a kick in the side, flipping him onto his back. He cried out again, holding his side away from his attacker.

"You...need to learn who gives the orders. You are no longer in charge, Colonel," Jossen spoke. He pushed John onto his stomach with his foot and kneeled down beside him, leaning close to his face. "You want this to stop," he whispered.

John didn't answer, but faced away from him, instead.

Jossen pushed on the back of Sheppard's neck, drawing his knife up. It came down just to the right of John's spinal column, and was drug downward, slicing through his ribs, through his intestines, his kidney, skimming his right lung.

Horrific screams filled the air, soon suffocated by the red liquid pooling onto the floor, from his throat. The knife was removed again, only to be brought back down to John's left arm, above the elbow, then jerked out again.

Jossen listened to the strangled screaming, smiling triumphantly to himself. His hand moved from John's neck to the most recent stab wound, while his right, letting go of the knife, grabbed onto the wrist of that arm. "Tell me," he whispered.

Just do it. Just get it over with, John thought. God, just end this. He didn't want to die, but it sounded a hell of a lot better that this. He just wanted it to end. He remained silent, staring at the ever-so-infamous boulder. He thought of his team, hoping they'd get to the gate safely. He thought of Elizabeth, wondering how she'd take the news, if she'd take it at all. Lastly, he thought of Senave, knowing he'd done the right thing, and was ready for whatever Jossen threw at him. Or thought he was.

When there was no response, Jossen wrenched upward on John's wrist, snapping his elbow backwards. Bones snapping, then grinding, his muscles being pulled apart.

John screamed, louder than before, God, did he scream. He pressed his head onto the ground, gagging on blood, trying to scream, trying to cry, to do something. He couldn't thing straight, he couldn't feel his hand. God, did he tear it off? His head throbbed, pain coursed throughout his body as sobs escaped his lips. Helpless, painful sobs that couldn't be stopped. "You bastard!" He shouted with all he had, coughing on his words, oxygen becoming scarce. "You bitch! God damn you, damn you!"

Jossen pulled up again slightly on John's wrist before releasing it, letting it fall in an awkward position onto the granite. He barely heard the pain-filled moans, sobs, whimpers coming from the body before him. Anger clouded his mind as he slammed his heel down onto John's vertebrae, hearing a crack, then it was all quiet. Jossen looked to the sky and smiled solemnly, yet sinisterly.

"I have your soul, Colonel. And now I will have the souls of your team mates."

Yup! There you go! Ok, it's gonna be like, a few days until I can update, again. Maybe Saturday, maybe I'll be able to get to it before then, so yeah. I hope you like this, so far, this chapter was a little more extreme than the others in this story, but it's more into normalcy for me, I feel at home. Ok, then. Bie:0D