Three Graces - Fearsome Creatures
Nov. 1st, 2011 12:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nothingtoregretRating: 18
Word Count: 893
Summary: David's modifications are put to the test.
Sitting privileges were revoked. For a while he thought breathing privileges would be revoked too; the belt returned. What felt like two days - could have been more or less, he’d lost track entirely - were spent with his jailer standing a few inches from his back and a semi-constant pressure around his neck.
He ignored the aches and pains and occasional garrotting. The machines were almost complete again, despite his best efforts. Some gift, he found himself thinking with increasing frequency, curses streaming through his head as he bit back the urge to scream and shout and smash the damn things to pieces.
“You work remarkably quickly with the right incentive,” the man whispered. It was all David could do to suppress the shudder. “I’m impressed. Perhaps we should have tried this sooner.”
His hands shook as he replaced the panel on the last glossy form. “It’s done.” The words were ragged and caught in his throat.
The belt tightened. “You had better be telling the truth.” For a brief, painful instant the leather pressed closer and David gasped, splaying his fingers against the monolith. It offered absolutely no comfort whatsoever. The belt slackened and he took a deep, desperate draught of air. “The consequences would make everything that’s gone before seem... pleasant.”
“It’s done,” he repeated with a conviction he didn’t feel. “I swear.”
“Then we’d better test it, hadn’t we?”
“Wait, what—?” He turned, almost strangling himself in the process, and stared up with horrified eyes. “You want to—”
“Is something wrong?” The words were as smooth and cold as ice. “You did swear, please remember.”
“No, but—” His mouth opened and closed helplessly.
“We can test it on you if you’d prefer.” He snapped, jerking the ligature like the leash of a dog. “And I think you know we’ve got no need for you now.”
David wrapped his arms around himself and lowered his gaze.
Sensing his victory, the man smirked broadly and with another jerk of the belt led David to one side, seemingly pleased with the newfound obedience of his prisoner. “Bring in the bear.”
David watched from under his lashes as a hint of movement in the shadows indicated that some of the guards had shifted. Humane tests on small animals in the privacy of his own penthouse had been one thing, but this on big animals was terrifying. He wished desperately that he wasn’t going to witness this.
The loud bellow made him jump violently, lurching backwards and away from the sound instinctively; the soft chuckle from beside him did nothing to alleviate the sudden crushing sense of dread that descended upon him. He watched with heart pounding as the two guards edged into the light, struggling with something that didn’t seem to recall any images of bears he’d ever seen.
Because, he realised with mounting horror, that it wasn’t.
The enormous man clearly had as much intention of entering the room quietly as David had at the start. Unlike him, however, they were visibly struggling to contain the thrashing, tattooed human. “What the hell—?!”
“This,” the voice behind him was soft, calm, almost amused David realised with disgust, “is what happens to those we hire who do not fulfil their obligations. I think you’ll agree it’s a fitting test subject? The most fearsome creature imaginable: man.”
“You can’t do this!” He yelled. If the man being led into the centre of the ring heard him, he made no indication of it. “It’s barbaric!”
“And you were more than willing to go along with it when it suited you. When it would save your life.”
He grit his teeth, biting down the comment with the painful realisation that he was right. His chest hurt. All he could do was watch, and it was all his fault...
The guards bound the man’s hands and feet, although how they did it without injury David couldn’t tell, then retreated with an alacrity that gave away their real feelings on the matter. He looked on, immobile even when this captor dropped the notched end of the belt and stepped forward to one of the towers, sliding up the control panel in just the way demonstrated to him that indeterminable time before this nightmare. The fingers moved over the same controls, the same hum filled the room.
David was sure he felt his heart break.
The light, when it came, was brighter than before, a blazing arc that seared itself upon his retinas. He couldn’t look away, hands balled into fists that only trembled slightly, as the man let out a scream that scraped at his eardrums. Surrounded by the light the big man thrashed around, falling to his knees, bound hands jerking up towards his face. Blood, to David’s horror, began to run from his eyes, nose, ears; he doubled up, retching like he could bring up his empty stomach. His noises went ignored.
The light faded, slowly. It took David a long time to bring himself to look at the remains of his handiwork. He sincerely wished he hadn’t.
A hand gently patted him on the back. For a moment, dazed and head pounding, he thought it was a comforting gesture. Realising who owned the hand cruelly shattered the illusion. “You’ve done wonderfully, Mr. Deor. I’m very proud of you.”
David began to retch again with renewed fervour.
Word Count: 893
Summary: David's modifications are put to the test.
Sitting privileges were revoked. For a while he thought breathing privileges would be revoked too; the belt returned. What felt like two days - could have been more or less, he’d lost track entirely - were spent with his jailer standing a few inches from his back and a semi-constant pressure around his neck.
He ignored the aches and pains and occasional garrotting. The machines were almost complete again, despite his best efforts. Some gift, he found himself thinking with increasing frequency, curses streaming through his head as he bit back the urge to scream and shout and smash the damn things to pieces.
“You work remarkably quickly with the right incentive,” the man whispered. It was all David could do to suppress the shudder. “I’m impressed. Perhaps we should have tried this sooner.”
His hands shook as he replaced the panel on the last glossy form. “It’s done.” The words were ragged and caught in his throat.
The belt tightened. “You had better be telling the truth.” For a brief, painful instant the leather pressed closer and David gasped, splaying his fingers against the monolith. It offered absolutely no comfort whatsoever. The belt slackened and he took a deep, desperate draught of air. “The consequences would make everything that’s gone before seem... pleasant.”
“It’s done,” he repeated with a conviction he didn’t feel. “I swear.”
“Then we’d better test it, hadn’t we?”
“Wait, what—?” He turned, almost strangling himself in the process, and stared up with horrified eyes. “You want to—”
“Is something wrong?” The words were as smooth and cold as ice. “You did swear, please remember.”
“No, but—” His mouth opened and closed helplessly.
“We can test it on you if you’d prefer.” He snapped, jerking the ligature like the leash of a dog. “And I think you know we’ve got no need for you now.”
David wrapped his arms around himself and lowered his gaze.
Sensing his victory, the man smirked broadly and with another jerk of the belt led David to one side, seemingly pleased with the newfound obedience of his prisoner. “Bring in the bear.”
David watched from under his lashes as a hint of movement in the shadows indicated that some of the guards had shifted. Humane tests on small animals in the privacy of his own penthouse had been one thing, but this on big animals was terrifying. He wished desperately that he wasn’t going to witness this.
The loud bellow made him jump violently, lurching backwards and away from the sound instinctively; the soft chuckle from beside him did nothing to alleviate the sudden crushing sense of dread that descended upon him. He watched with heart pounding as the two guards edged into the light, struggling with something that didn’t seem to recall any images of bears he’d ever seen.
Because, he realised with mounting horror, that it wasn’t.
The enormous man clearly had as much intention of entering the room quietly as David had at the start. Unlike him, however, they were visibly struggling to contain the thrashing, tattooed human. “What the hell—?!”
“This,” the voice behind him was soft, calm, almost amused David realised with disgust, “is what happens to those we hire who do not fulfil their obligations. I think you’ll agree it’s a fitting test subject? The most fearsome creature imaginable: man.”
“You can’t do this!” He yelled. If the man being led into the centre of the ring heard him, he made no indication of it. “It’s barbaric!”
“And you were more than willing to go along with it when it suited you. When it would save your life.”
He grit his teeth, biting down the comment with the painful realisation that he was right. His chest hurt. All he could do was watch, and it was all his fault...
The guards bound the man’s hands and feet, although how they did it without injury David couldn’t tell, then retreated with an alacrity that gave away their real feelings on the matter. He looked on, immobile even when this captor dropped the notched end of the belt and stepped forward to one of the towers, sliding up the control panel in just the way demonstrated to him that indeterminable time before this nightmare. The fingers moved over the same controls, the same hum filled the room.
David was sure he felt his heart break.
The light, when it came, was brighter than before, a blazing arc that seared itself upon his retinas. He couldn’t look away, hands balled into fists that only trembled slightly, as the man let out a scream that scraped at his eardrums. Surrounded by the light the big man thrashed around, falling to his knees, bound hands jerking up towards his face. Blood, to David’s horror, began to run from his eyes, nose, ears; he doubled up, retching like he could bring up his empty stomach. His noises went ignored.
The light faded, slowly. It took David a long time to bring himself to look at the remains of his handiwork. He sincerely wished he hadn’t.
A hand gently patted him on the back. For a moment, dazed and head pounding, he thought it was a comforting gesture. Realising who owned the hand cruelly shattered the illusion. “You’ve done wonderfully, Mr. Deor. I’m very proud of you.”
David began to retch again with renewed fervour.
