Chapter 4: Captive

His head felt like it had been wrapped – poorly – in cotton, then bashed around until he woke up. The rest of his body… well, he wasn't entirely sure anymore.

He could breathe though.

Wiggle his toes.

Unlike the… nightmare?

But something wasn't right.

Something was off.

He had been… running.

Running away from someone…

Alex took a careful breath, taking stock of his extremities. There was rough cotton underneath his fingers and something was wrapped around his wrists. Restraints?

Someone else was in the room – he could hear them breathing – on the far side, doing… something.

Alex squinted one eye open, trying not to react to the stabbing pain that accompanied the lights. The room wasn't even bright, dimly lit on all sides, but enough to slice through his brain.

Seeing didn't improve his situation either. Without moving his head, he could just barely see that his arms were restrained to the sides in some sort of hospital bed. But this was no hospital.

At least, no hospital outside of a horror movie perhaps.

He licked his lips, trying to stave off some of the harsh dryness. So that if someone demanded answers of him, he wouldn't… croak.

With great effort, he managed to open both eyes, squinting against the light, and took better stock of the room. It was small, as expected. There were strange bubbling tanks of cloudy green liquid lining one side of the wall and the other person in the room was occupied with some strange glyphs on a computer screen.

They didn't know he was awake yet.

He would use that to his advantage.

Carefully, he turned one wrist back and forth, testing the strength of the restraints. Well-made and whoever had tightened them had had an inkling of what they were supposed to be doing. To his detriment, since it meant that he wouldn't be able to just slip out of them.

Not unless he lulled them all into a sense of false security and then broke out.

Somehow, he didn't see that happening.

Unfortunately, there were no clues in the room for just who had taken him.

Although it could be one of many, this modus operandi didn't quite seem to fit any of them. This felt like someone new.

Maybe the weird glyphs were just red herrings…

There was a weird crackling sound, before a stern voice came over an intercom. "Clayton, your power ratio estimations were off."

The man sitting at the computer jerked almost to attention, then stalked to the intercom by the door. "I'd like to see you do better," he snarled.

"Just because the boss favors you…" There was an underlying threat in the tone.

"Look, kind of busy with your blank slate here, so how about you shut the fuck up for a couple of minutes and finish one project before you try to make me fix everyone else's mistakes. I'm no Carter." The man, Clayton, spun around, his gaze landing on Alex before he had a chance to snap his eyes shut once again. "Oh, fuck no."

There was a sharp mechanical whine and Alex couldn't help but open his eyes again. Trying to figure out what on earth was going on in this place.

Clayton had pulled out some sort of weird shaped thing and was pointing it at him. Like a gun, but not. The mechanical hum seemed to wind up, as if gaining power, and before Alex could even think bolts of blue lightning were streaking across the room and hitting him directly in the chest.

He couldn't help the startled yelp, before it all dissolved into darkness.

Driving nails.

Pounding in his head.

Daggers through his eyeballs.

He was so nauseous that he felt like he could hardly breathe. That one wrong move would set everything off – a chain reaction that would spiral down into calamity.

It was only the utter silence that convinced him he needed to move. It was freezing now, too. He rubbed his hands along his arms, trying to bring some warmth back.

His hands.

He could move them.

This now, was different from the before.

The strange room.

The restraints.

The person in the room.

He rolled over onto his side, bringing his legs up against his chest and tried to breathe through the pain. Tried to remind himself that this wasn't permanent, but if he could only get out… That someone would be so careless to remove the restraints…

There was more than one way to fight back.

He breathed through his nose carefully, controlled breaths in and out. Calming the nausea. Acknowledging the pain. De-prioritizing it until later. He needed to function now. He needed everything working in tip top shape if he had any chance at getting out.

He counted slowly to sixty, relaxing one part of his body at a time. Clenching and unclenching the muscles. Finding the points that were sore outside of the entire bodily pain. Because, for now, the pain was all in his head.

He could acknowledge it later.

When he was safe.

Opening his eyes was a whole new process. The light wasn't bright, but it was enough to shove those daggers deeper into his brain, flaying him piece by piece.

He doubted real flaying would hurt much more…

It was the same room. Same dank walls. Same tanks covering one side of the room. The only notable difference was the lack of restraints and the lack of… Clayton.

He was alone.

He rubbed his hands up and down his arms once again, trying to work some warmth back into himself. He needed to get up. He needed to get moving.

They could come back at any moment.

They could be watching him, for all he knew.

But if he had any hope of having the element of surprise on his side, then getting up and out of the bed was the first step.

The first step of many.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position, closing his eyes as the room swam in front of him and the nausea returned in full force. He couldn't let this win though. Because he was going to take them down, so help him.

Bare feet touching the floor – and where had his clothes and shoes gone? – was particularly unpleasant, but also served as a grounding point. Confirmation that the room wasn't moving. That his equilibrium was just messed up by whatever… electricity thing they had shot him with. He figured that nothing good came from that and it was probably rather detrimental to health in the long run.

He was definitely blaming the migraine on that… that thing.

"If I have lasting neurological issues, you'll be hearing from my lawyers…" he grumbled to himself, then resolutely pushed himself up from the bed. Swaying slightly, but standing.

Alex shuffled around the room, hand trailing against the wall for support, and squinting to let in as little light as possible. The room was bare, no weapons left carelessly about. He could have used one of those electric gun thingies himself.

The computer on the far side of the room was off and Alex wasn't about to go poking at it. He didn't know the first thing about hacking and it was unlikely to help him get out of the room. Though arguably, the screen could be used to bludgeon someone if it weren't so awkward to hold…

The tanks still looked murky and greenish and Alex jerked back as something swam around and slithered past the glass.

Gross…

More crowded against the glass, as if they knew there was someone out there. It looked unlike anything he had seen before – snake-like creatures with unnaturally long fangs and glowing red eyes – probably the result of some deranged genetic experiment. After all, bad guys usually liked to dabble in questionable practices.

The writhing mass seemed to grow, until the murky green of the tank was almost invisible, leaving just the bodies of the snakes visible. Alex baked away slowly, unable to take his eyes off of it.

Unnatural.

There was a beeping sound, like an automated timer, and the lids on the tanks started sliding back.

What.

The.

Hell.

The water in the tanks started sloshing back and forth.

There was a sharp spray of liquid in his direction as whatever was in the tanks burst out of it. Alex scrambled backwards as the floor was quickly covered by squirming snakes.

All squealing, shaking, rattling, in his direction.

They were almost like creatures out of nightmares. Slimy, wet snakes, with red eyes and hissing fangs all pointed in his direction.

Coming for him.

Like they were heat seeking – though what exactly they sought with him, he had no idea.

Alex sprinted across the room to the door and slammed his palm against the pad next to it, hoping that whoever had been careless enough to leave him unrestrained also hadn't bothered to truly lock the room. He had no desire to find out what the snakes wanted with him.

By some miracle, the door opened under his palm, sliding to the side to let him through.

Alex wasted no time pressing through and slamming his hand against the pad on the other side. There was an ugly squish as one of the snakes got caught in the door as it closed. It hissed and rattled its – fins? – at him for a long moment, before falling limply to the floor.

There were no guards around. No one in sight, in fact.

Alex blew out a long breath and rested his forehead against the wall for a moment. He wasn't dead. Though apparently now snakes were after him too. He squeezed his eyes shut, fingers pressing against the bridge of his nose, trying to convince the migraine to fade. Just a bit.

His stomach roiled and he took measured breaths. The pain and discomfort were not important now. He could deal with it later.

When he was safe.

Alex opened his eyes, then crouched down to get a closer look at the snake – well and truly dead now. There were soft thumps from the other side of the door. No doubt the rest of the snakes trying to get out.

That was one room to not go back into…

He shuddered, glancing at the fangs – four in total. No doubt, there was some sort of neurotoxin, or something else, that would guarantee a short, but painful life. And since they apparently tracked human movement – because there was no doubt in his mind that they had been coming directly for him – it wouldn't be hard for them to find and take out a target.

Definitely some bad guy's experiment gone wild.

Breaking this all down with Theo was going to be a riot.

Alex pushed up from the floor, took a few more calming breaths, and forcefully pushed down on any sensation of pain. He would have plenty of time to explore that once he was free from here.

Wherever here was… He ran a hand along the wall. Cement. No identifying symbols anywhere. Just long crisscrossing hallways.

No helpful signs pointing toward the exit.

Alex chose a direction at random and made his way slowly. His hall – a minor one, from the looks of things – connected into a larger hallway that seemed like a more major thoroughfare. Not straight, but slightly curved. No one was in sight though, so he ventured forward, taking the time to pause at each bisecting hall and door, listening for any signs of life nearby. It was hard to imagine someone had gone through all the trouble to capture him and tie him up, but then also been so careless to let him loose and disappear completely.

Unless he was meant to be snake bait. But usually they liked to gloat a little more…

Several doors had similar keypads, but with unfamiliar symbols. Like what had been on the computer screen originally. And he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to try another room – not if there was the possibility for more snakes.

Maybe the entire place was full of snakes.

Or he was hallucinating the entire thing. That was a reasonable option as well.

Thud, thud, thud, thud.

Alex quickly darted into a cross hall and pressed into a corner, out of sight from the main corridor.

People.

But not friendlies, by any means.

The sound of armor as they clattered through the corridor was strange – because who bothered to dress up in full armor these days? Metal armor wasn't really practical when good Kevlar was available.

"Kree!"

Alex leaned forward, trying to get a better view as they passed by. The armor looked uncomfortable and impractical, but there were at least half a dozen all marching in formation down the hall. He hoped they didn't turn down his original hall and discover the half-dead snake outside his room. That might tip them off that he had gotten out…

It was like he was at some weird cos-play party that he had only been invited to by being kidnapped.

He held his breath as they passed by, closing his eyes as each thudding step seemed to send another shock wave thorough his head. Their steps drifted further down the hallway, until they were almost silent.

Hopefully that wasn't the way out…

Alex crept back into the main hallway, intent on putting as much distance between them and himself. There was no way he was going to stick around for them to discover him – though it was entirely possible that he was just working his way closer to the center of the facility rather than finding an exit. It was like a maze, after all. Everything looked almost exactly the same, and if it weren't for the fact that he hadn't run into that dead snake again, he would have started to wonder if he were just walking in circles.

Just focus on getting out.

He didn't need all the answers at this moment.

Whoever had him now was someone new.

And he wasn't exactly sure what that was going to mean for his future.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Ratttattata!

Alex slammed at the pad frantically as the alarm overhead blared at a nauseating frequency and volume. He mashed the buttons in a random sequence, hoping that something would override the system and just. Let. Him. In.

Bang! Clank!

He pressed left, right, left, left, down – a sequence he had watched one of the weird armored guys press only a handful a minutes earlier – then slammed his palm against it once more. It had to—

The door slid open, exposing a room that looked almost exactly like the one he had broken out of. Tanks with snakes and all. He didn't even bother to check for any unfriendlies, just ran inside and mashed the button until the door slid shut again.

Inside with the snakes was at least better than the fire fight going on right down the hall. The gunfire had started up only moments after the alarms had started going off – and had been the signal that he needed to hunker down or possibly be killed or maimed.

Wishful thinking meant that it was Byrne's men coming to his rescue.

Realistic thinking meant that there was in-fighting and no matter the outcome, someone would probably kill him in the end.

He wasn't going to get a chance to get out.

The center of the room was taken up with an empty table, instead of a bed. Still no weapons. Nothing to protect himself with – not even a computer monitor.

There was a hiss from the corner and Alex watched in horrified fascination as the lids on the tanks once again started retracting.

"Oh fuck, not again." There was no telling whether the table would actually support his weight, but it was the highest elevation he could get to. It would probably be nothing against the monster snakes, but… he was going to have to at least try.

He would probably get killed by snakes.

Here lies Alex Rider. The Snakehead didn't get him, but the snakes did.

He choked back a laugh and pulled his limbs away from the edges of the table.

It was a surprisingly short amount of time before the floor was covered in snakes.

He was going to be traumatized.

Probably never able to be around snakes again.

The gunfire outside was getting closer.

The snakes were getting closer.

It was a toss-up of which would be a more awful way to go out.

It didn't take long before the snakes started jumping. Squirming through the air, squealing and hissing as they moved. It sent shudders up his spine. Drove nails further into his skull.

And the smell.

Alex carefully breathed through his mouth, belatedly realizing that his last moments were going to likely be awash in a stench from hell and unimaginable pain.

It wasn't going to be pretty.

The first few snakes were unsuccessful and Alex permitted himself a moment of hope. False hope. Because it was only a matter of minutes before their bodies were successfully hitting the edge of the table. And he didn't even have a shoe or anything to smack them away with.

Once they were on his table… his minutes would be numbered.

With nothing to lose, Alex whipped his shirt off and held it like a whip, ready to snap out as soon as they got close. The only problem was that the snakes had surrounded the table, hissing, chattering, jumping from all sides. He couldn't protect himself from all sides at once.

He was able to lash out and knock several off at once, dodging the fangs lashing out at him. The ones that hit the floor were quickly covered up by their counterparts.

What the hell were the people here trying to do? Overrun the world with snakes? With creepy genetically modified snakes?

The snap of the shirt was satisfying, as it connected with two snakes at once, and knocked them to the floor. But where there was one… there were plenty more to take its place. Then, one decided to sink its fangs into his shirt. Alex shook it, trying to dislodge it, but it held on tightly.

He swung back and forth, but the increased weight actually did better at clearing the table. Hitting a solid object with another solid object worked a lot better than trying to put them off balance with quick flicks of air.

Then another grabbed on.

And another.

Until there were at least five snakes clinging to the end of his shirt, and that really was too much.

A flick, sweeping the other opportunistic jumpers off the table, had the shirt tearing and the five snakes going flying back into the fray on the floor.

Undaunted, Alex wrapped the remainder of his shirt around his hand and grabbed – nailing a snake right behind its head and around the spiny fins. It hissed and thrashed at him, but it couldn't whip around and get to him.

In one smooth motion, he snapped the snake head against the tabletop, stunning it, then whipped it by its tail to take out the next couple that were trying to get onto the table. And really, it was squishy. Completely without exterior protection. More like an overgrown worm rather than a snake with any substance. He smashed the head against the tabletop once more and it stopped squirming in his grip – and now he had a weapon. Not a weapon that would kill him, even.

Keeping the rest of the snakes off the table was still a chore.

Would he have to kill them all, one by one?

Or would they eventually figure that it was an impossible task?

He knocked the heads of two more snakes together, letting their corpses fall into the rest of the swarm.

There were only a couple hundred to keep up with.

He could do this.

Absolutely.

He would win against these odds now.

He swung again, taking out at least three in one swoop. As long as none of them got close enough, maybe he would survive. The snakes could just barely jump to the edge of the table, after all.

Two at a time.

Four at a time.

One at a time.

He spun quickly, as the snakes started jumping from the other side. They weren't going to get the best of him. He would take down as many as possible in the process.

Ten down.

Fifteen.

Thirty.

Some stragglers, biding their time before trying to jump.

The snake in his hand was long dead, but there were plenty others to replace it.

The alarms were still blaring overhead.

His hand was cramping.

There wasn't much else he could do – except give in.

There was a sharp click, as the lock on the door unlatched, and it swung open.

Alex froze.

The snakes froze.

Then, as if they could smell more convenient food, the snakes started streaming toward the door.

Alex held his position, arm held tensed, ready to move if they started coming back for him.

There was a rapid sound of gun fire, as whoever was at the door took out the remaining snakes.

But now the unknown intruders were here.

If they didn't like the snakes, that was one thing. But if they were just another version of the big bad that already had him… It wasn't going to go well.

There was nowhere to hide though.

Just him, standing posed on top of the table, half naked with a dead snake in his hand.

A team of men – armed to the teeth and clearly ready for a small battle – swarmed into the room, aiming their guns at him.

Alex slowly raised his hands "Hey, no—"

"Drop the symbiote!" The man in front shouted at him. The patch on his uniform suggested he was US military.

Alex let the snake – symbiote? – drop out of his hand and kept raising his hands to show he was unarmed. "Look, there's been—"

"Quiet!" The man jerked his head toward the others, and they spread out to presumably check over the room.

The alarm was still blaring in the background.

"Secure him."

"Hey!" Alex couldn't help the reflexive jerk away as one of the men reached out to grab at him. "I'm not—" He didn't even get a chance to finish his thought, before the world was shorting out in a blaze of fiery electrical pain.

A/N: Is that another cliffhanger I spy? Whoops. Also, no promises about the speed of updates. I'll settle into a pattern here soon, I swear. Thoughts? Predictions?