Hi there, my esteemed readers.
This chapter was supposed to be out before the end of August, but since I was a lazy fuck with the editing and then rewrote parts of it, it is coming now. And boy am I nervous about whether you'll like it, I most certainly really hope you will. So, please be so kind and leave a comment once you are finished, your feedback is always greatly cherished.
Thank you and have fun.
Disclaimer: Dredd 3D belongs to Lionsgate, 2000 AD belongs to Rebellion Development
Puppeteer
First thing she registered was the silence. Then she felt the cold. And then the pain...
She forced herself to remain calm, pushing the agony into the back of her mind, and quickly assessed her situation. A blindfold covered her eyes and she was tied to a chair, coarse rope tightly entangling her limbs, her toes only barely touching the cold ground. She was stripped of her uniform but whoever disrobed her had the decency to leave her with at least a shred of dignity and didn't remove her undergarments. She tried to scout the place with her mind, but it seemed like she was alone.
„Ah," a soft melodic voice proved her wrong. „You're awake. How are you feeling?"
Immediately she tensed up and raised her mental barriers. Adrenaline surged through her veins, her body preparing for attack, and she struggled against her restraints. They cut painfully into her wrists but didn't budge.
A low chuckle sounded. „Nothing to say, beautiful?"
-Fuck you.-crossed her mind.
„Well that wasn't polite at all. I thought a lovely lady as you would have better manners." said the stranger, amusement clear in his voice.
Her hearth thundered in her chest and she flinched involuntarily, because whoever the mysterious man was, he should not have been able to catch that.
Quiet laughter spilled into the air around her. „Everybody makes mistakes. Lower your defences, dear, they are very much useless against me."
She believed him, but kept her barriers raised anyway, which caused another wave of laughter. A low growl escaped her lips as she squirmed in a pointless attempt to writhe out of the bonds.
„Hush, love, save your strength, there will be plenty of time for you to panic and scream and beg for mercy." the voice spoke again, the tone mellow and almost gentle.
Several unrefined phrases crossed her mind, none of them anything close to child-friendly. She lashed out with her mind again but it still told her there was no other presence in the room.
A chair creaked somewhere in the room. „Will you talk, lovely lady, if I give you back your sight?" sounded so close to her, she felt the stranger's breath brush over her skin.
A sharp tip of something, probably a knife, scraped over her throat and cheek and suddenly bright halogen light burned her retina. She blinked rapidly, cursing the rope binding her hands, for she couldn't rub her eyes. The first thing she saw once her sight returned, was a bleak grey concrete wall smeared with dark streaks of dried-up blood. She rapidly turned her head around and met the gaze of the stranger.
He was hidden in shadows, but from the first glance she could say that he was a mutant, and once he stepped into the light, she was proven right. His back was twisted, the spine barely able to hold his deformed hydrocephalic head upright. The mutant's face was covered with swollen violet patches of Kaposi's sarcoma and a hideous scar forced his mouth into a perpetual sneer.
„Well, now I get why you don't show yourself. You look like something that would hide under a bed." she spat, a small act of defiance in face of the, most definitely, grave fate that awaited her.
The mutant bared his teeth in a snarl that transformed his face into a mask of defaced, seemingly molten flesh. „Yes, belittle my appearance, Judge, if it pleases you. But once you are dying in a puddle of your own filth, remember who put you there." he smiled, almost sweetly, and stroked her cheek.
She shuddered as she saw, that his index and middle finger, just as the ring and little finger, were grown together and ossified, forming some king of rudimentary claws. Bony protrusions pierced the skin of his forearms and violet veins bulged under his pale, almost translucent skin.
He regarded her with a solemn expression. „So pretty, so well adapted." he muttered. „You should have been one of us."
„What do you want?" she growled.
He looked up and met her gaze. „Justice. Amends for the thing done to us. We are hunted like animals, stripped of all our right, treated as if we were no humans anymore. We have done nothing, yet we are condemned from our birth. Branded as filth, atrocities, unfit to live in this society. You think you are any different? You are useful, that's why you're alive, yet in the end you are still worthless to your government, nothing but a pawn easily sacrificed. They will not even blink at the death of another mutant no matter what you did for them."
A manic zeal entered his eyes and his voice resonated in the small, dark room. „But don't worry, I will make them pay. Oh yes, they will learn to fear me, to watch their backs every time they step out to the streets. I will wage war on this corrupted system and I will be victorious! A new order will be established and we will be put in our rightful place!"
„Oh, you're so full of shit." she scoffed and rolled her eyes.
His head snapped around. „What? he uttered, his face expression of utter bafflement.
„You heard me. This whole battle cry is nothing more than a steaming pile of shit. Because if you are such a civil rights fighter, where exactly do the mutants that you supply to the fight-rings come in the equation?"
He seemed to contemplate for a moment. „Necessary sacrifices. Not everybody agrees with my new world order."
Ostentatiously she rolled her eyes again. „Yes, I'm sure the children you sent to their deaths really had the capacity to understand and agree, or disagree with your plans. Face it, you are just another crime boss. You don't give a shit about mutants and our standing in society, you're in this because of the profit, aren't you? This whole theatre is ju-"
Burning pain flared up in her cheek. She could feel blood trickling down her face, where the ossified protrusions split the tender skin. A crushing weight settled on her wind pipe, the mutant's claws cutting into her neck.
A jolt ran through her as she felt her consciousness attach itself to the stranger's. Undefinable images flew through her mind and she knew, that, given enough time, she could decipher the mutant's thoughts.
He snatched his hand back as if he burned himself. „Now would you look at that, you're more powerful than I thought." he mused. „You really should have been one of us." a smile graced his face, not making it any less hideous. „Now, since I know what you can do, what about I show you some of my... abilities."
The tips of his claws brushed past her collarbone and nestled above her left shoulder blade. „Truly, so pretty." he muttered and plunged them into her back.
The initial pain came as a shock, but ultimately was nothing compared to what followed. Freezing fire spread out through her limbs, as if her blood was replaced with liquid nitrogen. With a swift fluent movement, her captor slashed the ropes binding her. Her first instinct was to retaliate, or flee, but she found her body frozen solid.
She fought against the mutant's mind control but his head was like an impenetrable fortress. Suddenly her right hand moved on its own accord and some king of primordial fear clenched her innards. She bit back a scream as she felt the broken bones grind together. The hand, hard to believe it was hers anymore, moved in a jagged uncertain arc and reached next to her. A table stood there, cluttered with a vast array of surgical tools and other instruments. Her fingers, only now did she notice how delicate and complex instrument they were, wrapped themselves around the handle of a small butane blowtorch.
A warm breath brushed over the nape of her neck. „What do you think I will do with this little thing?"
„Write me a poem?" she asked sarcastically, attempting to push the fear away.
Quiet laughter echoed. „I suppose I could do that."
Her hand moved and the torch light up with a thin, concentrated blue flame. She struggled, pointlessly, to get back the control of her limbs but to no avail. The flame lowered to her exposed stomach and her skin began to blister, barely intelligible letters etching themselves into her belly. She bit her inner cheek to stop herself from screaming, adamant on staying silent throughout the torture. The acrid stench of burnt fat filled the room and involuntarily a pained whimper escaped her lips. An acute desire to fall unconscious filled her head, but the mutant's mind wouldn't let her.
The seconds seemed to stretch to eternity, the pain consuming every single nerve ending in her body. She kept her eyes locked on one stained spot on the wall, unblinking, as her hand laid down the torch and picked up a thin pointed blade, put it away after a while and grabbed a taser and then switched that for another instrument of torment. Blood filled her mouth from countless bite marks she left on her cheeks and tongue in her determination to not scream.
„Not in every case it's true that silence is golden." the mutant whispered. „Give me one nice scream and I promise I will end your suffering."
It was a tempting offer, she had to admit, but ultimately she decided against it.
„Pity." he said, but a feeling of rapture was palpable in his tone.
Once again her hand moved and picked up a scalpel. Gracefully, even in its broken state, it brought the blade down onto her forearm and made a short, maybe five centimeters long incision. It put the scalpel away and retrieved a backhaus clamp and then another one to pry the wound open and then pin the skin. Again the scalpel was picked up and Anderson winced as it scraped away the muscles, revealing a pale sinewy string she recognized as the median nerve.
She trembled as her hand put the blade away and picked up a surgical forceps. She felt the cold touch of steel.
A scream tore it's way from her mouth. It was a horrifying, barely human sound, rising in pitch and intensity as the forceps continued to clamp the nerve. Unimaginable agony set her mind ablaze and she was overcome by the need to flee her own body.
Her mind smashed into the mutant's defences and, driven mad with fear, actually surpassed them. For a heartbeat she just relished in the feeling of painless quiet but almost immediately she realized what opportunity presented itself to her. She extended her conscience trying to encompass as much of the mutant's mind as possible, not bothering to sort out relevant information just yet.
The connection broke as the mutant, now she knew he was called Robert, ripped his claws out of her back and she was hurled back into the personal hell that was her torn physique.
„Stupid bitch. You'll pay for this." he growled and slapped her again, his ossified fingers leaving more marks on her face.
She managed to muster a weak grin. „Give it your best. Because if I get out of this, I will make you eat those words." she whispered, blood dripping from her lips onto her chest. Free from his mind-control she made a move to rise from the chair but her legs refused to obey.
„Don't worry I will." he shot her a twisted, terrifying smile and raised his hand to her neck.
„EMERGENCY LOCKDOWN IN 45 SECONDS." sounded a machine voice from some hidden speaker.
Robert tilted his head and closed his eyes for a moment. „Such loyalty." he commented with a wistful smile. „Just a little too late." he shrugged and slit her throat.
She uttered a surprised noise and brought her left hand to her neck in an attempt to stem the bleeding. The life-giving fluid ran down her arm as her vision got dark and she toppled to the ground.
Dying felt warm and soft, a sense of calm weightlessness settling over her. Sparkly fluffy patches floated in the corners of her vision, brushing against her, gently caressing her bruised skin and sweet summer breeze brought the serene tinkling of wind chimes. The quickly diminishing rational part of her mind told her, that it was just her brain releasing serotonin into her bloodstream to ease the pain of death, but she found herself not caring, because there was grass, soft like velvet, tickling her spine and the world was basked in golden light.
A prick jolted through her, stirring her from the peace and quiet of her hallucinations and for a moment she felt the cold hard ground, smelled the stench of blood and sewer clinging to her skin. Pain consumed her body once again and then her mind slipped back into the comforting embrace of blissful unconsciousness. She could vaguely feel more pricks hastily jabbing along her neck but they were easy to ignore and she retreated further back into the welcoming blackness of her dying mind, her limbs going heavy as her blood turned to lead.
Suddenly a lightning strike of clarity and new focus struck her mind. Her eyes shot open and she caught a blurred sight of a dark figure hunched over her. A surge of adrenaline flooded her limbs and she swung at the stranger with her left hand with a sudden burst of power. It connected and a flash of pain wrecked her body. Not waiting for the other person to retaliate, she scrambled to her feet, backing off until her back pressed against a wall. Her head spun from the sudden ebb of blood and colourful circles danced before her eyes.
„For fuck's sake, Rookie. If you ripped your stitches, I'm not patching you up again." sounded a gruff voice and a wave of relief washed over Anderson as she recognized Dredd kneeling in a pool of blood that was probably hers. He ditched his helmet and gloves and blotches of crimson covered his arms up to the elbows.
Her eyes darted to her chest and the first thing she saw was the adrenaline syringe sticking out of her sternum, harmonizing with the collection of bruises, cuts and burns. Then she noticed the curved surgical needle dangling around her collar-bone and brought her trembling fingers to her neck.
„Don't you fucking dare." Dredd growled before she could touch her slashed throat. With few long strides he closed the distance between them and firmly, yet gently at the same time, gripped her wrist and forced her hand back down to her side. He lifted her chin up and turned her head slightly to the side, so her neck got exposed.
„Hold." he ordered and lifted a curved artery forceps, which right now doubled also as a suture holder.
She winced as the needle pierced the tender flesh above her jugular. Her hearth was hammering a tattoo into her ribs and she wondered whether it was exclusively because of the blood loss and adrenaline rush, or because Dredd's face was so close to hers, she could feel his breath caressing her cheek. Perhaps it was the combination of the two.
„I couldn't move." she whispered, more to herself than to anybody else, and her knees went weak just for a moment, the realisation of past hours crashing down on her.
Dredd added another stitch. „What?" he asked absent-mindedly, cutting the dissolvable thread with the multifunctional surgical tool in his hand.
„I-I-I... He-I-" she attempted to explain, but fear paralyzed her and the words died in her throat. She shook uncontrollably, taking shallow ragged breaths, barely enough to supply her body with the necessary oxygen. Darkness began to cloud the corners of her vision and she swayed on her feet.
A sharp sting of pain brought her back to reality. She straightened up and blinked the dizziness away.
Dredd was standing in front of her, his hand firmly clasped around her wrist. „Pull yourself together, Anderson!" he barked. „Last thing I need is for you to panic."
She nodded hesitantly, closed her eyes and concentrated on taking deep breaths, calmness slowly settling over her.
„Well, you are one compassionate fucker, aren't you?" she breathed after a while. It was too late for it to be considered a witty response, but it was a simple familiar action and made her feel herself again.
Silence enveloped her and she noticed that Dredd stopped stitching. She opened her eyes and found him looking at her, lost in thought, a small, almost affectionate smile displayed on his lips.
She frowned a little. „What?" she croaked weakly.
He shook his head, a look of embarrassment settling on his face. „Fuck, I'm glad you're alive." he breathed.
A smile tugged at her lips. „This is how it starts. And the next thing you know, you'll be professing your eternal love to me." she said, her words coming out in a hoarse raspy whisper.
Dredd seemed to suppress an urge to roll his eyes. „Just get back to the panic attack." he responded with a low growl and added a last suture, before before sealing the upper levels of tissue with medical gel.
She laughed and immediately clutched her neck, pain pulsating in the the freshly stitched wound.
„Don't laugh. You'll pop your stitches." Dredd ordered.
„So don't be funny." she replied.
Now he actually rolled his eyes. „Anderson, I've been called many things, but never funny."
„Shit." she cursed. „Does that mean my sense of humour is fucked-up?"
He flashed his teeth in a grin for a second. „Yep."
Another wave of laughter rippled from her lips, but it ended in a pained hiss soon enough. She let her head drop forward and pressed her forehead against Dredd's collarbone. „I would hug you but both my arms are fucked."
„Just let me get back to patching you up." he said not unkindly and pressed her back to the wall.
She watched him intently as he covered her wounds with the gel, his fingers carefully tracing the map of cuts covering her frame. His touch sent small pleasant shivers down her spine and she cursed her brain, because the last thing she needed right now was to start crushing on anybody, let alone the him.
„Problem?" Dredd's voice cut through the silence.
She tried to find an acceptable answer but her mind drew blank. „No, no, uh- nothing, just, you know, thinking about the uh-torture and uh-stuff." she stammered suddenly grateful for the blood loss because it prevented her from blushing.
He gave her a worried look, but then shook is head and returned to his work. After he was done with the gel he fetched a sling for her broken right arm.
Once the last of her injuries was tended she regarded her battered body and smiled. „Behold, I am now more medical supplies than man. Well, woman."
A faint chuckle escaped him and he turned away. „Get... comfortable. I'll check if I can revoke the lockdown."
She let herself slowly sink to the floor the floor cold against her skin. She brought her knees to her chest and watched Dredd lean over a control board, dabbing the keys with a progressively cranky expression.
„So what's the situation?" she asked once he stepped back.
„Can't cancel it, we are stuck here for six hours."
She shrugged with a smile. „Six is okay. Better than sixteen."
He rolled his eyes again. „Optimist." he said, making it sound almost line an insult and sat down next to her.
She shot him a small grin, „So, how did you find me?" she asked.
„I had the general idea of direction. Then I interrogated some perps along the way." he fell silent for a moment. „And then I heard the screaming." he added, his face looking somewhat haunted. „So, what happened here?" he asked her in turn.
„Well that will be a long story to tell." she remarked with a smile.
„So show me." he shrugged concomitantly.
A look of complete bafflement settled on her face. „Really?" she asked.
„Sure."
„Okay then." she nodded slowly, taken aback a little. „I'll give you the highlights."
She collected and sorted her thoughts and as uninvasively as possible delivered them to Dredd. She included the mutant's likeness, the way he controls people and almost all the information she gathered in his mind.
Dredd nodded, the muscles in his neck tense. „And you got all this while..." he broke off, probably looking for a suitable word.
„Being cut into ribbons?" she filled in for him. „Yeah pretty much."
He gave her a quick once-over. „Impressive." he commented.
Warm feeling of pride welled up in her chest. „If you say so." she said, not suppressing a satisfied smile.
They fell silent and Anderson felt her body slowly grow heavy with exhaustion. The medical gel worked as always and the pain was dulled to bearable, if not comfortable levels. She rested her head on her knees and closed her eyes, welcoming the sleep.
A soft cautious touch appeared just above her jugular. „Still alive. Don't get your hopes up." she muttered and leaned into the touch, just a little. She shifted her weight and rested her head against Dredd's shoulder. She could feel his questioning eyes on her but he left her action without a commentary.
Eventually his arm wrapped itself around her midriff and he carefully pulled her closer, still mindful of her injuries. She tensed up for a moment but relaxed soon enough and leaned into the embrace. Dredd's fingers drummed a soft steady rhythm into her hip and she found it to be strangely calming. She huffed and squirmed for a bit to find a comfortable position, one of her knees coming against his thigh. Once content she let out a wide yawn that hurt her throat and fell asleep almost immediately.
„LOCKDOWN OVER."
She woke up with a start, her head bumping into the wall. Dredd sat beside her, his arm still curled around her torso. She blinked the sleepiness away, rubbing her eyes with her usable hand. She yawned once and stood up, her knees shaking slightly under her weight.
„Then let's move out." she smiled.
Dredd ended up carrying her most of the way, despite her assuring him several times that she was capable of walking. She kept dozing off in his arms, feeling of safety enveloping her. She heard him call an ambulance at some point and therefore knew they were close to the exit from the underground. Once they reached the montage hall, a slew of medics was already waiting for them. They checked her pupils, reflexes, asked few simple questions and then injected her with sedatives.
When she was laid down on the stretcher, the sedatives beginning to work, Dredd's hand touched hers. She thought it lingered there for a moment, but she could have been wrong.