When Pandas Fly

Chapter 9 - Poisoned Blades and Perfect Plans

"Speak up Panda!" yelled Caldwell. Theon was restrained to a stiff and uncomfortable metal chair, tied up with ropes that dug into his skin. Caldwell was standing opposite of him, two of his men at his side. They were all in a dimly lit room, lights flickering. Theon grimaced as the President's hand passed over a spot of fur that was matted with dried blood.

Theon looked up at the three men, with no fear in his eyes. "Hi," he said.

Caldwell fumed. "That's not what a meant. And you know it!" He leaned in close to the injured panda, his breath felt across every patch of fur. "Answer my questions. What is your organization? Did you cause the incident? And what do you want with the saviors?" Theon opened his mouth to reply, but Caldwell cut him off. "Don't give me any wrong answers, panda." He smiled, a foul, evil thing. "You already know what will happen."

For the briefest second, a flicker of fear passed between Theon's eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came. He shrugged. "But do I know? And how do you know that I know? Do you know something I know and we don't all know? Is that how you know?" he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. He squinted, his own animal eyes burning through those of Caldwell's.

Caldwell, although extremely angry, smirked at the small god. "Alright then, Theon." He grinned once again and turned to his two men. "Give it to 'im." He looked at Theon, matching his stare. "Just in case," he added.

The men walked over to the panda, poisoned daggers in hand. With no remorse on their faces, "Get ready," one of them said as they pressed the blades to Theon's skin.

-----🌏-----

Autumn and Hunter grew accustomed to life on ice once again. Once plagued with frostbite and hypothermia, the kids barely noticed the cold. However, both friends had no intention of staying in the bitterly frozen tundra, and were already thinking about deserting the misshaped sculpture that served as their home.

They both, however, didn't mention it to the other, as they were afraid of angering each other. Autumn usually just spent her time staring off into space, wondering what Hunter would say if she told him her true thoughts. Hunter spent the days similarly, often finding himself looking at Autumn, wondering about her own ideas. Both's feelings were conflicted, not sure who should fess up first.

"I think we should leave," whispered Autumn one day to Hunter, fearing another protracted lecture from him. But Hunter instead sighed with relief, as if a weight had been hoisted off his bruised shoulders.

"I was thinking the same thing," he confessed quietly. "But, how?"

"How what?" Autumn was now picking out the rice wedged in between her teeth that they had rationed the night before.

"How are we going to save Theon and not die in the process and kill people and-"

"Hey," Autumn cut off, "we just need a plan. And I think I have the perfect one."

-----🌏-----

The dim light had turned Theon's eyes into large, dilated pupils that were focusing on the newly made dagger wounds that dotted his body. His was exhausted of keeping his cool while Caldwell tested his short-supply of patience. Time was running out, and if this continued, he would die. One of Caldwell's minions came up to Theon, injecting his fur covered skin with fluid, the one that drained him of his godly powers. Seconds after the man entered the room, Caldwell and another soldier strolled in, armed with a machete.

"Today, we'll try a new system." Caldwell grabbed the curved blade from the man. "Isn't it impressive?" he chided as he glided his middle finger along the slender part of the metal, cutting his finger in the process. He watched his blood slowly come out, watched each syrup-like drop slowly leak onto the scarlet floor. 

"That's a neat little toy you've scavenged from your daughter's playhouse," Theon replied as he tried to keep his attitude from depleting. "Oh wait...she's dead"

Caldwell ignored the jab and sneered at the panda. "Well, at least I'm not tied up like you are, bud," he replied.

"Well, I guess it's good news that at least you have the vision in one eye." Theon tried not to laugh, in fear of breaking out into wheezes because of his collapsing trachea. He could see the other men shutting their own mouths tight, trying to stifle their laughter.

Caldwell kept an eye on the poor panda, slowly stalking closer and closer. "Did you know that this distinctive shape can be used as both a knife and an axe? This particular blade was forged in the year 3025, and was found one thousand years later in the thickets of the Madagascar Plateau." Caldwell informed, rubbing the cold metal across the panda's dry fur.

Theon cringed as the blade passed over about a finger length away from his face. "So, it seems you've done your research, you dumb baboon." Theon did not choose his words very well, but hallucinating from an overpowered drug can do a number on a forty pound panda god.

That's when the first sweep of the blade came cutting across his fur, leaving a deep gash, blood pouring out. The second was closer to his very injured left arm, which was bent at an odd angle. The machete was a giant wrecking ball, sweeping back and forth, cutting into his shriveling patches of fur.

"Oh, this is not so bad; I thought you were going to just kill me and get it over with," Theon said, grimacing. Seconds later, a sharp swing chopped off the panda's paw, sending it tumbling to the ground. A loud cry engulfed the room, Theon's entire body shaking in pain.

"Tch tch tch," Caldwell chided with his half burnt tongue. "That's not very useful to us, is it?" The tense groom continued, the panda's cries for help were muffled by the gag that was once again tied around his mouth. 

This chapter was really hard to write...torture scenes are most definitely not my forte. 

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