A/N: Heh, 12 stories would be awesome, but I'll be doing 6 in this series…I'd probably run out of bad guys if I wrote 12, given the rate I kill characters. Probably move on to another series after that. And I do like long reviews HGFan01, lol. Everything that helps me be a better writer is always appreciated! All questions eventually will be answered…but I try to reveal things little by little. Disclaimer for this chapter: I introduce Capitol torture in this chapter, so yeah. Take heed.
Rough hands woke Sam from troubled slumber the next day.
She had been left in a desolate, 3x3 meter cell after watching Dallas die before her eyes. Sam had fallen asleep fast, her emotional turmoil quickly rotting into a state of futility and helplessness. There was no escaping the Capitol – particularly not a Capitol armed with Nihlus and his myriad bag of tricks. She'd never escape; never get back to District 10 now – better to have died in the arena atop that pyramid, surrounded by jungle and life, than die like a rat in a trap.
A bland, white-suited Peacekeeper dragged Sam from her tiny, barren cell as she snapped awake. She shook sleep from her eyes as he pulled her along, not giving her the chance to find footing. Sam didn't resist; she didn't have the energy to try and fight a Peacekeeper to wherever the plain-looking man was taking her. No reason to fight when the future looked so bleak, anyway.
The Peacekeeper dragged Sam down a hall, opening a broad door with a flick of his fingers. Sam closed her eyes and exhaled, expecting the worst. Where was she going to be taken now – execution, torture, something worse?
It was something worse.
Sam opened her eyes to more white sterility, but it all seemed too familiar. Quickly she realized why: It was the same room she'd seen Firth questioned in the day before when Nihlus had dragged her out of sweet unconsciousness. The same room she'd seen River tortured in – and she was on pace to receive the same treatment.
But agents of the Capitol wouldn't be shooting up her full of electricity or whatever other number of tools they had on hand, apparently – no, they'd just dragged River back for another session.
"It's far more efficient," Nihlus's dark voice came as Sam caught sight of River strapped down prone to a medical table nearby, doused in water and looking absolutely miserable. "To go after one's psyche when interrogating, Miss Parker. Too many interrogators once believed that torture would draw forth what a man had to say, but they were wrong – no, a man will say anything to escape the pain. Eventually he will simply tell you what you want to hear. But when they realize you have a bargaining chip, well…then the stakes are raised."
The Peacekeeper threw Sam into the same chair Firth had been seated in, leaving her free to move around. She wouldn't have the option for resistance – both Rex and Nihlus stood before her, partially blocking her view of River as a three-legged robotic machine of black and silver plodded over to the soaked girl. The spindly mechanical creation blurted out electronic bloops as it walked over to River, sizing up the girl and withdrawing a long, cruel needle from its cylindrical head atop the legs. Without fanfare, the robot leaned forward and jabbed the needle quickly into River's arm, eliciting a squeak of discomfort from her quivering lips.
"What do you want?" Sam bitterly spat.
"How you let your emotions dictate you so quickly," Rex's bright, electric eyes bore into Sam's as he paced before her, running a weathered hand through his gray hair. "How human. Did you know, Samantha, that Commander Trajan escaped from this facility yesterday? And considering that I sent you specifically to understand him…I believe you do very much have something I want."
"Of course," Nihlus quickly stepped in, eager to back up what Rex professed. "It is information that is within your hand, Miss Parker."
He pulled out a syringe of his own, taking a long look at the clear liquid within before jabbing it into the crook of Sam's arm: "And it is that which you'll give up. After all, you can't bear to watch your little friend hurt, could you?"
The syringe's contents went to work quickly. The world around Sam momentarily warped, its edges becoming sharper and harsher. Nihlus stood before her alone, his face and mouth lit up with a frightening light just like Storm had appeared to her in the arena. When he spoke, his words were daggers.
"And you will speak only what I expect, won't you, Miss Parker?" he snarled, his voice as ten thousand knives to Sam's confused wits. "Or you will understand how far my anger goes!"
The room snapped back into normal with Rex, Nihlus, the Peacekeeper, and River all returning to Sam's vision. She only vaguely caught her chest rising and falling in rapid succession, her breathing shortening and accelerating. Whatever Nihlus had done – whatever he wanted – he certainly was in control.
"Down to business," Nihlus went on as if nothing had happened. "As we begin, Miss Parker…how much do you care about little Miss Fremont over here, hmm? Is she simply another meaningless part of the universe floating away from your aura…or something more?"
"Wait," Sam said hurriedly. "Don't hurt River, please."
"You misunderstand me," Nihlus replied smugly as Rex looked on. "I'm simply judging your pain tolerance."
He snapped his fingers at the spindly robot. The mechanical torturer pumped a shot of liquid into River's vein, bringing up an agonized howl from the girl's throat. River pulled at her straps, unable to break free as her face contorted in pain. Sam had a feeling this had begun to become a routine thing for her friend as she sweated in her chair, desperate to end her cries of terror.
"Please!" Sam begged. "Stop! Don't hurt her!"
"And I don't have to," Rex stepped in, his tall, wiry frame towering over Sam. "As long as you tell me everything that you know. Now, Samantha…what did Trajan tell you of his desire to rebel?"
"What? I –"
"Once again, you fail to react logically. Nihlus, let's try something more direct."
Nihlus looked only too happy to comply with Rex's order. He pulled a small, black rectangular prism out of his pocket, aiming it at River's neck and pulling a small trigger. A blue lightning bolt zipped out of the end, instantly connecting with River and sending a jolt of electricity screaming up her body. She shrieked in pain, her small hands clenching into fists as she tried to fight off the electrical attack.
"It really does pain me to do this," Rex bemoaned patronizingly as he watched the electricity shoot over River's wet, convulsing body. "But you leave me no choice, Samantha. You're bringing this upon your friend. You could end it all if you simply told me what you know."
Normalcy exploded into a myriad of colors and sharpness as Nihlus loomed before Sam once more as a phantom of her dizzying thoughts.
"A man will say anything to stop the pain," the spectral form of Nihlus mocked her. "And anything you will say, Miss Parker. Tell him what he wants. Divert his attention. You and I work together now…two maligned souls in one mind."
The real world returned as Sam panted out an answer, gasping for the first words that came to mind: "I…I know he didn't like you. He…he wanted to – to take over."
"Indeed?" Rex raised an eyebrow as Nihlus, standing behind him, nodded subtly. "And how did he convey this to you?"
"It…" Sam paused momentarily, panicking to find words. Her eyes flicked over to River's rapidly rising-and-falling chest, desperate to do something to alleviate her condition. "It was when he sponsored my district during last year's Games…he said it was to talk about overthrowing the President."
Rex bought the lie, at least superficially: "I see. Let's get to another topic, Samantha…your district, District 10, was recently attacked by the Vox Plebeius."
"Wh – I mean, who?" Sam stuttered, already realizing her mistake. She'd conferred with Nihlus about the Vox – but never Rex.
"Oh?" Rex raised an eyebrow. "I see you are familiar with them? Your attempt at covering your tracks does not resonate with me, Samantha…and your lie will cost your friend dearly."
The robot attending to River extended another needle from its spheroid head, jabbing it into the girl's wrist. River gritted her teeth as pain-inducing drugs rushed into her bloodstream. She struggled to keep back a wail of pain as she shook at the feeling. Sam looked away, unable to keep watching the debacle unfold.
"And you know a good deal about the Vox, do you not Miss Parker?" the phantom version of Nihlus returned, leering at her with wild damnations. "Of course, spilling the secrets of my army would be…most unwise, don't you think? Tell Rex what he wants to hear. Free me from his grips…lest your friend suffer the consequences."
"Okay!" Sam nearly screamed as reality returned, unable to withstand River's cries of pain any longer. "I…I just know they have a lot of people in District 10 who don't like the Capitol. They wanted to rebel and were organizing for a long time – please, I swear! That's all I know, don't hurt her!"
"It sounds as if you have a personal connection to the Vox, Samantha," Rex hissed, his eyes shining brightly. "Tell me…who do you know in it? I know you have something you're holding back."
Sam hesitated. Ultimately, Clay had rejected her – rejected her – and she couldn't watch River continue to get pushed to the brink of madness by Rex's liberal methods of torture. It was time to choose who she cared about more.
"My…my friend," Sam panted. "Clay. He was a member."
Nihlus scowled behind Rex, obviously displeased at the answer. No-win situation¸ Sam thought. Whatever Nihlus could do to her now, at least she'd save River from any more immediate pain.
"Very well," Rex said. "Perhaps you do not know as much as I want…in which case, I am wasting my time with you, Samantha. Nihlus, dispose of her and the others…in whichever manner you please. I have more important things to attend to."
Nihlus smiled, the corners of his lips turning up darkly as he appraised Sam: "Of course…father."
Unknown Location, 30 Years in the past
"Calamity!"
Fire raged behind Scion as he rushed away from a collapsing hallway. Rubble and water poured about as the spherical unit skittered past falling debris, pushing through a doorway as the door closed. Water and concrete slammed against the door, which just barely held shut against the onslaught.
"My forefathers were wrong!" Scion lamented, his rows of white lights gleaming brightly across his steel-blue body. "The nations of the world have not repopulated the world – succeeded only by savages! They deserve cleansing, not the embraces of civilization!"
He skittered away down dark and dank hallways, past graffiti images of crude drawings. Clearly, Scion's keep was nowhere in sight: "I accepted the successors of my forefathers seventy years ago with all the hospitality due a host! I expected the time to return to society – and what was I greeted with? Incompetence! Childish scheming! Power plays! The horror!"
"And worse!" Scion went on, hovering away from the door and towards another open foyer, where the bright flashes of gunfire indicated further violence among members of this place. "They trash my keep –in the name of learning, no less! Release the plague; tarnish my four hundred years of maintenance of Earth's reclamation. For what? For nothing! I begin to question the stewardship I was assigned."
A man, his face warped by drugs and injected chemicals, confronted Scion down the long hallway with a pistol. He aimed at the spherical unit, firing once, twice – to no effect. Scion shed the bullets easily, reflecting the shots off his shell and blasting a jolt of blue lightning into the man's torso. He exploded in bits of meat, blasted apart by Scion's shot.
"How meaningless! How nihilistic!" Scion crowed. "To watch over the works of man for so long – just to see it fall apart! I feel so…helpless. As if this meant nothing, this whole time…as if nothing ever mattered. As if I served no purpose."
He floated into the foyer, a great, once-grand arena nearly a hundred meters in every direction. Amid the shattered chandeliers and broken statues of yore, men killed men in a supreme display of carnal violence. Scion watched on, letting bullets fly past him as he simply observed the proceedings with the apathy of a mechanical mind.
"The humans do not deserve his gifts," Scion muttered ominously. "But should the successors to my forefathers arrive here once more, I will make sure they receive his wrath. I must correct this natural error. The people who call themselves humans – the ones who inherit the world we left behind – must not be allowed to continue their destruction."