Pain…1
…so much pain…2
…it never stopped…3
…but he had now become numb to it all…4
Numb, that was exactly what Sinister wanted. He knew naught but what was re-taught now; he knew naught but what Sinister wanted him to know; he knew naught about emotions now—they were beyond gone, it seemed—except for the anger and hatred that now fueled him.5
Between his ‘lessons’ and his ‘treatment’ and even his ‘training’, he would sleep and dream horrible dreams. He had been allowed out of his tank now, always with an exception of when Sinister wished to work with him, to work up his strength again. But sleep…6
…sleep came easily…7
…dreams, nightmares, of what had come to pass…8
…what could come to pass…9
…what happened to ‘her’…10
…but who was ‘she’?11
He had forgotten her. Some part of him knew who she was, but no name registered, nothing told him much more than what the animal in him wanted to know. He had truly forgotten her…12
…had she forgotten him, too?13
----14
She had stayed by his side through all of this, until someone offered her concert tickets. Heavy metal—or any other type of music, for that matter—was not easy on Travis’ ears so he was forced to decline the offer to go with her and…15
“…make a lot of people jealous when they see you,” she said with an over-enthusiastic, but amusingly so, wink and her best ‘Valley Girl’ voice before kissing him good night and heading off to the concert that would tear the couple apart.16
He settled down in front of the TV and it seemed like he immediately fell asleep, until the news came on an hour or so later, that is. 17
There was a strange occurrence there, at the concert that Sarah had gone to. No one was severely hurt, they said, no more than bloody, broken noses, black eyes, and broken teeth, but he knew better than to believe it. Where Sarah and brawling were involved, he never believed it. If it was not her getting hurt, it was her doing the hurting. These were times that he believed, more than ever, that she was a mutant, and he had no idea how right he was about it.18
Something felt wrong about it…very wrong, aside from the obvious (“…an explosion rocked the stadium this evening…”), so he grabbed his jacket (one that fit, as he and Sarah had recently gone shopping), and ran outside to his bike, a half-gift of Sarah once again, started it, and pulled off at the nearest thing he could get to top speed without killing himself or anyone else.19
With one hand he put the headphones he often stored in one of his jacket’s interior pockets, and turned to a news station, hoping to gain some clarity before he barged into this place, fists flying like Sarah’s had been not twenty minutes before without him knowing.20
The most he got was some complaining about a splitting headache that had nothing to do with the music.21
“Someone screamed,” one girl said, “so loud it could be heard over the explosions…it scared me, it really did.”22
Travis growled softly, speeding into the parking lot without so much as a backwards glance as he crashed the gate down, skidding to a halt seconds later as near the doors as possible. He stood on the seat for a glance, he hoped, at the black-and-purple-haired girl he had come here for.23
“Sarah,” he whispered, “come on…”24
He never did see her, but he felt himself becoming cornered before he saw and confirmed the fact. Security had been tight around here, and he had barged into the place.25
“Sarah,” he uttered loudly enough for them to hear before he slowly lowered himself from the bike and put his hands up, eyes all but streaming, “please say someone’s seen her…”26
He surprised the police by doing all that they would have asked before they asked him to, the only time he actually moved being to take off his headphones so that he could actually hear them. His expression, despite the face that it was set upon, was enough to draw pity from one, if not all of them. He was despairing now, as he never saw a sign of Sarah, and later found that her parents had put out a missing person notice with the police. They said that the last person that she had been with was him, so he was taken, willingly, to the station. He wanted some answers and was willing to give them his own.27
His tones were honest and full of suppressed tears, his despairing expression seemed never to change, and the fact that they were accusing him of anything seemed to fly right over his head. They searched his home, never having to damage the front door due to the fact that he willingly gave his keys.28
“He looks like the type, but he doesn’t act it,” one officer commented. He was quite right, and he seemed aware of it.29
“You said your name was Travis Portico?”30
“Yeah,” he near whispered, staring at the table they had put him at, his finger-tips covered in black ink.31
“The fingerprints match,” the officer continued, “but the face doesn’t.”32
“This was just recent, sir,” he uttered quietly, his voice wavering dangerously, pulling at the officer’s heartstrings. “I honestly don’t know what’s happening to me, and I don’t care…as long as you find Sarah…I need to know that she’s safe…”33
“Kid, we’ll keep you posted. It’s the best we can do,” the older man sighed.34
He felt for the boy, but the appearance still bothered him. He did not look nor sound like the Travis he had once met and known personally for quite some time, as a friend, not a delinquent, but there was something about him that never would change, or so he thought. Travis had always had a hardy respect for authority, one unusual in a kid his age.35
“I’ll stay here tonight, if I have to,” he uttered softly, turning those strange, cat-like eyes on the officer who shuddered inwardly but nodded.36
“Don’t need you doing anything stupid, do we?” The most they had found were steak knives, blunt ones that could only do damage if swung extremely hard or sawed against the skin, but there was no evidence of foul play in his house, none at all.37
“I’m scared,” Travis admitted hesitantly, “for her and for me…”38
“So am I, kid…so am I…”39
He did several things that night, including getting a new picture for his license for his sake and everyone else’s, and spent more time talking with his police friend, whose office he was apparently going to bunk in.40
“I’ll have a cot set up in there. Keep an eye on you.”41
Travis had simply nodded, and when offered the cot, a pillow, and a half-way decent blanket, he almost immediately dropped off to sleep. Sleep that anyone could dub sound, but in reality, it was quite fitful, chaotic…only in his mind, and through Sarah’s eyes.42
She was hooked up to everything from tubes to wires, strapped down across her middle. Her arm, the one that even he knew she rarely used, he saw her arm…it was not human, it was…machine…? It was machine, and it had moved more easily than it ever had in her life.43
In his sleep, he shuddered, remembering that arm as almost always being cold, but he had never expected that.44
“Subject 30-05-12 is awake and functional,” a small, monotone voice said, as if far away.45
46
Sarah gave a small cough, and whether he knew it or not, so did Travis.47
“Vital signs: Normal,” the voice said, “Removing breathing apparatus.”48
He saw a tube removed slowly and carefully, helped along by coughing that was not his own. There was confusion and pain, they wanted to move their hands to their throats, but never did.49
“Incomplete,” the voice said, “Subject 30-05-12 incomplete.”50
Soon, they felt a prick in their arm and then there was only darkness, and then the sensation of standing in something akin to a lukewarm bath. They saw the blurred figures of two people, but could identify neither.51
52
Travis rolled over, his eyes snapping open and staring at the wall.53
“What was that place?” he whispered, half into his pillow and so quietly it was almost inaudible.54
He sat up quietly and went to the officer’s desk to scribble a note of thanks, among other things, before leaving, slipping out silently and seemingly invisibly despite his large size. They had given him back his keys, and he held them still so that they would not jingle, and headed off to find his bike, wheeling it out a ways before hopping on and starting it up. He needed more answers, and the first place he headed was to the Montgomery home; to Sarah’s parents.55
He knocked loudly on the door when he arrived and found himself face-to-face with Mr. Montgomery who peered around him at the bike in the driveway before stepping aside to admit him into the house. Travis simply nodded, as he found himself doing quite a lot that night, and stepped inside, shifting uncomfortably.56
“Sarah told us about your…uh…‘little’ change, Travis,” he uttered, “didn’t say it was so extreme though.”57
“You seem calm about it.”58
“Sarah isn’t exactly a normal girl, you know.”59
“Yeah, I know,” Travis said in a rather grim tone, close to a growl on top of that, that actually startled Mr. Montgomery. “Sir, if you don’t mind my asking—”60
“Yes, I mi—”61
“—who is ‘Subject 30-05-12’?”62
Sarah’s father stared the young man in the eye, and neither of them flinched.63
“Sarah,” the older man finally mumbled, “it’s Sarah. Why?”64
“Because I had a dream,” Travis started, “it was like she wanted me to see what was going on. I felt it…”65
“So did I, son.”66
“Why did you file that report?”67
“I can’t say.”68
“Why,” Travis snarled, a hand suddenly darting up to take the older man by the throat, “did you file that report?”69
Mr. Montgomery gasped and shut his eyes. “Slade,” he struggled, “Biomech Industries! I knew!” He was dropped just as suddenly as he was lifted from the ground and Travis crouched in front of him. “I can’t tell,” the man whispered, attempting to catch his breath.70
“Why? Why didn’t you tell her?”71
“I was…instructed not to,” the man panted, “It’s the only reason she had any use of that arm. I can’t tell the where or the whys…they’ll take her…they won’t give her back.”72
“Pact with the fucking devil,” Travis snarled before righting himself and whirling around to face the front door, walking out as quickly as he could without running. “I need to find her…I need to bring her back…but how?”73
He got his how in the form of a voice in his head, ‘Follow me,’ it said, ‘I can help you.’74
It grew louder as he headed toward its source.75
‘I can help you find her. You have to become stronger to do it…’76
“…if I have no choice,” he uttered aloud, “I’ll do it for her.”77
He pulled to a stop in the middle of the warehouse district, glancing around furiously before freezing at a presence that he was suddenly acutely aware of.78
“I can make you so much more than you are now,” a voice uttered, the same from his head, right into his left ear, “You need to be to find her.”79
Travis shuddered.80
He had a bad feeling about this, but he asked anyway, the question that would start a veritable hell; “How?”81
Just that easily, he had sealed his fate…82
----83
…at least, that was what Sinister wanted him to believe…84
…it was what Sinister wanted to believe as well…85
…for once, he was proven wrong…86
…Travis would run free once more, un-owned and unnamed.87
Author notes
Unintentional ties have now turned to shameless plugs and ‘tiny’ previews of Biomech Part Six. Yay for shameless plugs! God, I’m weird… My muses wouldn’t exactly let me sleep. I think I should be good for it soon…maybe I’m sick again…eh…whatever.
I’ll modify this again if they ever give out free silver memberships or whatever that was again. It looks prettier when modified. Heh…
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