Shatter

T3/\/

*Warning*  This chapter contains a scene that may be intense for children under the age of 13 (shouldn't be a problem on here, but whatever) due to extreme violence.  Viewer discretion is advised.

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Chapter Ten

“Two!”  The guard yelled.  “Two!”

I groaned, my mind groggy and too tired to function properly.

“Mel?”  Jaison’s voice dragged me from my unconscious.  “Melinda, are you awake?”

I heard scuffling and a moment later, a disheveled looking Jaison appeared beside the bed.  I yanked away, he was too close for comfort.

“Two!”  The guard insisted.

“Here,” I called out, my voice raspy and barely audible.

Regardless, a set of guards appeared by the door.  My suit fell through the rectangular window.  I tried to raise myself off of the bed, careful not to bump into Jaison, but my muscles were stiff from inactivity.

“What?  No!”  Jaison yelled.  “It’s not her turn, and she just woke up.”

I stripped out of my rags and slid into my suit.  Jaison ripped the gloves up from the floor and stepped away from me.

“Jaison, what are you doing?”  I demanded, my voice still raspy and my mind still reeling to catch up.

“It’s not your turn, and they won’t coming in here if your gloves are off.”

“Don’t fight them, Jaison.  It just makes it worse,” I whispered, my eyes flashing to where the guards were glaring at the scene before them.

“Listen to her, boy.  Let her come with us and we won’t tell the boss about this little incident,” one of the guards bargained.

I gave Jaison a pleading expression.  His eyes dashed between the two guards and me, still unsure of what to do.

“Give me the gloves, Jase.  Or else one of us will have to pay.”  I extended one of my hands ever so slightly.  He seemed to debate with himself for a moment before he finally made up his mind.

“I don’t want him to hurt you, Mel.”  His voice was laced with sincerity.  I gave a small smile and shook my head.

“He won’t,” I assured him.  “He can’t touch me, remember?”

Jaison gave a sigh of defeat and dropped the gloves into my hand.  I slipped them on as quickly as I could and took one of Jaison’s hands in my own.  I gave it a small squeeze and passed him a reassuring look.

“I’ll be okay,” I said sternly.  A small smile crept onto my face.  “Try not to miss me too much.”  He gave a short laugh.

“Try not to die.”

The guards rushed in.  One pushed Jaison back against the wall, slamming his back into the stone.  The other grabbed my forearm and pulled me into the hall.  A moment later, the other guard joined us and latched onto my other arm.  I didn’t resist as they led me down the long, low-lit hall.  When we reached the end, I closed my eyes, hoping they would take a left and just drop me off in the torture chamber.

They turned right.  I balled my gloved hands into fists and gritted my teeth as we made our way past the showering room.  I froze as the guard on my right started to push me towards the boss’s door.  They yanked me forward like I was an animal that refused to cooperate.  I tried yanking my arms out of their grasps, but it was useless.  The guard on my left reached out and knocked on the office door.  I continued to struggle against the guard’s hold on me.  I writhed in their grasps, turning whichever way would get me away from them.

Suddenly, the door in front of me opened wide to reveal the boss’s brown eyes and buzz cut.

“Number Two,” he welcomes me.  His voice freezes me instantly.  “Come in.”

The guards push me inside.  My heart is pounding as they push me through his regular office and into a room that I had come to fear more than the torture chamber.  Two guards stand dressed head to toe in suits, complete with gloves of their own.  The original two guards release me and the new guards take over.

I’m stripped down and handcuffed to a metal bar that’s been placed on the wall specifically for this purpose.  The guards clear out at the snap of the boss’s fingers.

“What’s the first rule?”  He asks.

“Don’t go insane,” I answer, my eyes drifting away from him.  I’m just too ashamed to look him in the eye.

I feel the leather strap connect with my cheek.  Searing pain spread over my skin, consuming my nerves and igniting them with fire.

“Look me in the eyes when you speak with me,” he commanded.  “Rule two.”

“Do what you tell me to do,” I answered, forcing my eyes to connect with his.  Regardless of the fact that I did what he told me to do, he brought the leather strap behind his head and crashed it against my exposed skin.

“Speak up.  Rule three.”

“Use your gift only when permitted and never against the other gifted children,” I said, my eyes boring into his.

The strap hit again.

“You’ve killed two of my guards!”  He yelled, bringing the leather strap back and sending it back against my flesh.  “I was forced to cover up your mistake.”

His cheeks turned red as he yelled.  A string of hits came after that.  Each strike brought forth a new wave of pain as it connected with my face, with my arms, with my legs, with my body.  He huffed and grabbed a metal wire.

“Rule four,” he commanded.

“Take your punishments with grace,” I said as tears streamed down my face.

He brought the metal wire back and slapped it against my skin.  I screamed in agony.  The wire made a whooshing sound as he brought it back and struck me yet again.  A sob bubbled up from my throat.  He brought the metal down again, this time letting it slice the skin under my eye, just missing my eyeball.  I tried to hide my face behind my arms, but it only angered him more.

“Rule five!”  He yelled.  My breathing was ragged, sobs and broken wails fought their way out of my mouth despite my efforts.

His gloved hand grasped my chin and squeezed until I wanted to scream.

“Rule five,” he said menacingly.

“Don’t resist,” I said in a broken sob.

“New rule,” he said as he walked over to a bookcase filled with torture devices he liked to use.  Chains, small knives, whips made of all different materials, acids that burned the skin, drugs that drove you to the brink of insanity.  “No remorse.”  He plucked a skinny metal rod from the bookcase and brought it over to me.

“Please, please,” I pleaded through my tears.

He brought the pipe down against my ribs.  I released all my oxygen and shook as the shock settled in.

“Don’t forget rule four.”

He slammed the pipe against my stomach.  I coughed and pulled my knees up to my stomach.  My vision blurred, and the wind was stolen from my lungs.  I could feel the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth.  I tried my best to spit it out, but the taste remained.

He brought the pipe down again and again.  Each time, the force behind it brought a new level of pain and brought me closer to what felt like death.

I don’t know how many times he hit me before I blacked out.  I just know that there was a point where the hits stopped hurting and my brain seemed to shut down.  It was like I was giving up, shutting down, throwing in the towel.  Just before I slipped into unconsciousness, there was a moment of bliss and all I could think about, was getting back to Jaison.

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