Chapter Nine: Broken
There were many mysteries at the Institute.
...
Blood painted the ground.
...
Violence was not one of those mysteries.
"Again!"
Freddie hit the ground with a thump. Groaning, he rose from the earth. Another blow landed across his face.
"Weak, my soldier is so weak," Griffin was angry. His work was cut out for him, "Run the course again. If you fall, I will take you to the middle where all the dogs can see you, and beat you senseless."
Freddie nodded obediently and took off. His second day back was rough. He had to run and run and run…
His energy reserve was almost gone. He jumped and ran and kicked, and pushed and rolled until he finished the course.
"Again."
Jump, run, kick, push, and roll, the system was ingrained into his mind.
Again. And again, and again he ran until he fell. It was perfect; he had to lift double his body weight onto a lever. It slipped off, sending him spiraling to the ground.
He was dragged across the green, the very same place he had been months previously. His hands dug into the dirt as he was pulled.
Griffin had set him up to fail, "I want to see the Good Wolf."
The blows struck his soft parts, what few there were. The first landed low, the second even lower. They were driving him into the dust, where he wanted to be.
Freddie curled into the fetal position, his right hand clutching the prize he had waited so long to dig from the dirt; a black ribbon.
He could survive anything to get back to Carly.
Laughter sounded around him. It took only a few minutes to beat the boy within an inch of his life. Griffin finished up by dragging his soldier from the field and into the complex. Blood streaked the stone, "I'm angry, Good Wolf. You are so much weaker now that you have," He spit, "Love. It's a huge weakness which infects a man. I learned how to repress it. That's right, even I want to love Carly, but her place is beneath me, lower than a mere dog, a bitch."
Freddie groaned. If he had the ability, he would have punched Bad Wolf in the face.
"You are a Good Wolf, better than a mere dog. You will learn how to put her in her place. Like I did. By the way, you're welcome. I did you a favor when I expressed my will inside her. I will show you more later."
"You… are scum. I hate you, I love her," Freddie shifted, "I would do anything, be anyone, to keep you from her. She is so much better than me, deserves so much better, but she chose me. Doesn't that kill you?"
Griffin snorted, "Why would it? Take a look at my newest pet."
He trucked his captive down a secret staircase. Freddie was tired and sore, but the situation was not as bad as say... taking out an FBI agent, an Institute dog, and then crashing through a doorway on a motorcycle. And after all that he still had the energy to have sex with Carly. (Not that it matter, he could be dead and would still find the power to find his way to her.)
Griffin threw Freddie in front of a cell, "Meet your new roommate, although, as I understand you two have already met."
Whimpering on the floor, naked and chained, was an old friend.
"Sam."