Gunblade - The Rebellion of Cain

Chapter 3 - The Rebirth of Cain

The world rushed to him like a whirlwind. All at once, a cacophony of sights, sounds and sensations overwhelmed him as his disorientation forced him to frantically attempt to try to determine where he was. Recalling that he had been violently jarred into unconsciousness, he groggily began to reconstruct the series of events that led up to his sudden awakening. As his mind reconstituted his memory, he was jolted into a panic when he realized he had no idea where Raylene was. Having seen her dragged off against her will by an unknown attacker galvanized his autonomic nervous system. At once, barely trying to control the terror he felt, he began to try to locate his wife and figure out where she was.

His vision, still blurry from trauma, now returned to him as he began to look around. His clothes were inexplicably sopping wet. Struggling to move, he could feel that his hands and legs had been restrained. The bindings, although shoddily done, were still terrifyingly and frustratingly effective. Attempting to restore operational calm, as a small corner of his disciplined mind began to assert reason. His captors must have had to hurry to transport and bind him for fear that he would wake up before they could secure him.

He accelerated his respiration in an attempt to steel himself to struggle free from his bindings. Cain didn't have much of a chance to take more than three or four gasps of air until an extremely powerful blast of frigid water savagely crashed into his suspended form. The pressure of the ice-cold water slammed into his body like ice daggers, robbing him of his ability to take a full breath. The pressure was immense and pounded his chest with the force of what felt like a jackhammer and smashed his body into the cinderblock concrete wall behind him. Coughing, sputtering and bruising from the force of the water, he tried to swivel, turning his form to the side so that there was less of a profile for the person firing the water at him to hit.

Through the pain, terror, and near asphyxiation, all he could think about was his wife and where she was. Mercifully, the stream of water began to abate, and the high-pressure bombardment waned. Cain gulped lungfuls air. While the world swam into focus, his vision began to clear. As he assumed, he was chained to a cinderblock wall so that not even his considerable strength could simply rip the rope from the wall. His head rolled backwards allowing him to squint through blinding neon lights which cast a harsh and sterile glow over the grotesque room he was in. Despite being well-maintained and clean, the walls were walls adorned with macabre collection of harnesses and blood-stained torture tools.

Without warning, the unbelievable force of highly pressurized water pounded away at him again just as he managed to get one last full breath of air. The geyser-like fire hose frustratingly prevented Cain from determining just how many people were in the room. It felt like the icy water would rip his skin from his skeleton. With his senses understandably stunted, Cain couldn't come close to discerning the personnel that were present, where they were or how much danger he was really in.

After what seemed like an eternity, Cain felt the pressure of the hose relent and life flow back into his body as he filled his lungs with as much air as he could, preparing for the next barrage. While his vision readjusted, he heard, but not saw a lone figure enter the room through the farm double doors. The clicking of his stride echoed in the room as the man's fine Italian shoes splashed through the shallow pools of water on the floor. Cain knew the sound and gait of his walk well before the man uttered a word. That same recognizable English accent cut through the haze in his head, providing him with a focal point for his hatred.

"The Sword of Cain," the voice began laden with smarmy disdain and sarcasm.

"You know, it continually amazes me how individuals with such power and promise always fall victim to hubris and arrogance. It's almost as if the inherent need in human nature that drives us to compete for scarce resources in order to obtain material wealth continually fails us when met with a modicum of success. Take for instance, your situation Cain."