Disclaimer:
This work is fiction. The work has no (intentional) relationship with any person existing at any time anywhere whether real or imaginary or copy written.
Feedback will be read, processed, and if it’s a flame it will be given the finger, then I will burst into hysterical laughter. Constructive feedback, be it criticism or praise, will be read, processed, given a smile, and filed away. To contact me, please send an email to socom.seal@(SPAM)yahoo.com. Remove (SPAM) for a valid email.
You should not read this if you are not of legal age where you reside. This work can contain rape, BDSM, cannibalism, and probably anything else my sick, twisted mind can come up with.
Note: All times are in a mix of military and standard times. For example, 1AM = 0100 hours = 1:00, while 1PM = 1300 hours = 13:00. I hope this will make it easier on readers to understand the timeline while leaving me in a format that I understand better. If it causes too much of a problem I will switch to standard.
Chapter 2
<12:00 ± 12:00, Somewhere near the Dark Continent>
Andrew sighed. His days had become a never-ending cycle of pain, unconsciousness, and more pain. He wasn’t strong. He never had been, only smart. He had always been smart enough to eliminate pain, or fear, or sadness. But he could feel himself weakening. Day after day, they questioned him about everything. He fooled them with answers, just close enough to be satisfactory, but never enough to be of any use. But they would find out, and when they did, he would die. He was sure of it. He didn’t know why he hadn’t self-destructed already. Without the companionship, however slight, of the Slicer, he probably would have lapsed into the place where nothing good ever happened. And, knowing what he knew, of the others that had been taken before him, he was afraid of that place. Not afraid as he always had been, but afraid with a deep, primal fear. Humanity always fears the unknown. That is why they fear the dark. The known can be rationalized, explained; the unknown could be anything. If he slipped into his spiral of destruction, he no longer knew if he could keep that destruction inside of himself. He suspected he would not. Reeling, he dropped back into unconsciousness.
~~~~
“GET UP!”
Andrew bolted awake as a scream echoed from the Slicer’s cell. A Limbec was dragging her out, and there were two more standing guard in the doorway.
“I TOLD YOU TO MOVE!” Yelled the first Limbec as she began punching the Slicer who lay, barely resisting, on the floor.
“Hey! What are you doing!?” Andrew managed to gasp out before one of the guards silenced him.
“This bitch is going on a little trip.” Sneered the first Limbec, a Buttaneer. “And YOU get to stay here. No more ANYTHING that could help you cling to your memory. My Mistress has had enough of that!”
Andrew’s eyes widened in fear. “No! I don’t know what will happen if you… Ungh!” He wheezed as he was restrained again.
“Nighty night, sealy boy.” Taunted the Buttaneer as she dragged the now unconscious Slicer out of Andrew’s slowly darkening vision.
~~~~
<Time:Relative, Location:Everywhere>
“In the beginning there was nothing… Then nothing exploded.”
Andrew rolled his eyes. “And now I’m here. Great. Just great. The little part of my brain that does whatever the hell it wants. What is it this time, you crazy son of a bitch?”
A small spark blinked into existence. Then a few more. Soon, there were hundreds upon thousands of sparks, each, Andrew knew, bigger than the sun.
“Ok, you can make light shows. So what? If this is really what the lowest layers of my subconscious think about, I have no idea where I get my stupid ideas.”
The sparks started blinking, as if angry. “LUKE!” A voice resonated around Andrew, “I AM YOUR-“ “I know, I KNOW!” Andrew screamed. “LUKE I AM YOUR FATHER. OR FATHER’S MOTHER’S SISTER OR WHATEVER! IF YOU HAVE NOTHING IMPORTANT TO TELL ME, WHY THE FUCK AM I DREAMING!”
The lights flashed once, then went out.
“Well shit. Wonder if I can control this place now…”
Andrew concentrated and, slowly, a walkway emerged, or rather materialized, under him.
“Ok. Walkway. Still can’t move my body, but a walkway. Good start, me. You’re going places fast.”
As Andrew continued to try and control the dreamscape, he couldn’t see the images forming behind him. Until he finally got his body under control and turned around.
“Fuck. Now you tell me something. Ok, those are my writings. But I’ve only ever published a few of those. And lost all of them. What do they matter, anyway? They were all just pulled out of-“ He stopped. “Those are creations of this dreamscape, of my subconscious. But why are they pale? Here they should be vibrant, full of color…” Andrew thought for a minute. “Are they… Empty? Without imagination, or memory?” The sparks popped back, twinkling around him. “I’m right, aren’t I? Something is happening to my ideas. They’re being destroyed, right? Is it something to do with me? No, it couldn’t be. I have been healed so many times I can’t have brain damage. The limbecs are doing it. Somehow, they have literally destroyed my constructs.” He floated closer to a scene of a lonely road, with three shadows emanating from two figures. “Psydike Revolution. There is no house in the background. It’s just… gone” He looked towards a photo/painting of a wolf surveying emptiness. “That’s my first one. The one inspired by Kerrik. He’s still there, but the city is vaporized. I loved that city. I designed it perfectly, the right amount of crime, sadness, to make all that is right best. It was the epitome of perfection. Not Utopia, but damn close. And they destroyed it!” Andrew could feel his wrath building, but he didn’t care. It was all here, inside, he would never hurt anyone with it. He never had. Carefully, he examined his new anger and started pushing it towards his lowest conscious level, a place he called level 13, for storage. Before he had walked more than a few steps away from the fading worlds, a bright light flashed behind him. Whirling, Andrew saw two things simultaneously; A new scene, this of him in a prison cell in what he knew was the Sanctuary facility or Limbec boat he was being held in, and a pedestal. On it sat his gun. That was what had shone, as light from his present reflected off of its finish.
“Ok. This one is real. But since it’s here, it’s not. This place is reserved for my thoughts, my creations… Fuck. I need to get out of here before I go insane. But how-!” The image of the present began growing. “Ok, that might work. Wait. Assume so you don’t go insane, Andrew. The present is your dream. So is that gun. Manipulate your dreams! Merge one with the other!” And he started running. The present kept getting larger, and larger, threatening to cut Andrew off from his gun. As he ran, Andrew threw doors at random places in his subconscious so he might some day return. It was the closest to peace he had been to in a long, long time. “Ok. Distances in dreams are relative. So I am running fast enough to get to my gun in 2 seconds. Fact. Present dreamscape will intercept with me in 5 seconds. FACT!” And he slammed into the pedestal holding his gun. Snatching it up, he checked the magazines and storage. Amazingly, it was loaded exactly as it had been that night before he was abducted, and the underbarrel held two full mags. “Fuck yes. Now I’m getting out of this place. Be seeing you, subconscious. Don’t be a stranger.” He said as he vanished into reality.
Behind him, a small red cloud pulsed. Resisting the pull towards level 13, it began to replicate and move towards one of the hastily thrown doors out of Andrew’s subconscious.
~~~~
Andrew stirred on the floor of his cell. “Well, that was fun. Too bad I didn’t actually bring back my gun.” He sighed before struggling upright.
CLANG “SHIT!” Andrew whirled around. There, where he had been slumped against the floor, was his 50/22. “How can this happen. This shouldn’t be able to happen. Oh god, it’s beginning. I’m turning into some sort of freak superhuman. At least I won’t go mad or anything. My anger is always locked up in my-“ He froze. “If my subconscious is real, if my dreams are real, then so is level 13. No. No, no, no, no. The prison isn’t guarded, the locks are always left with the keys in them. If my dreams are becoming reality, then level 13 will be broken out of in no time. At least nothing can open those locks from the inside, or I’d be in deep THEY WILL PAY!” Andrew smashed his fist against the floor. “No no no the destrUCTION OF MY THOUGHTS! THEY WILL DOn’t do it Andrew, control, control, you’re okay, you just forgot the wrath, it’S GOING TO MURDER THEM ALL!” Andrew’s eyes began to glow red, and his entire body began writhing as he fought with the wrath making its way to the prison on level 13. “C’mon man, just go thIS WILL NOT HOLy shit c’mon man contain, conTAIN! CONTAIN! YOU CANNOT CONTAIN ME!” Andrew’s vision went red as he picked up his 50/22 and deftly sheared the door of his cell off with one shot. Alarms began blaring and the door to the prison block slammed open, a Psidyke and Buttaneer running in.
“Security breach! Security breach! Socom is loose and URK!” The Psidyke yelled into her microphone before Andrew grabbed her throat and began to squeeze. Surprised, the Psidyke could do nothing but flail as she slowly suffocated. Glancing up, Andrew leveled his gun at the shocked Buttaneer and fired.
The bullet entered her left shoulder just above the heart and blew it off. The shock hit her heart and stopped it, making the Buttaneer slump to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Glancing at the now limp Psidyke, Andrew disdainfully tossed her aside and entered the hallway to inspect the bullet in the wall.
“Huh. Wooden cells, concrete walls. Limbec crew, underground bunker. Deception on deception. Let’s see if I can’t figure out the best way up.” He turned and began walking.
~~~~
Andrew could feel his rage diminishing. It always did when he had an outburst. Any minute he would be able to put it away, and wake up in his cell. Because nothing good EVER came out of his anger. Ever. He opened his eyes and-“What the hell!?” He was holding his gun. More importantly, he was pointing it at the form of a girl on a table. Looking around he could see chains on the walls, and behind him were 2 slumped forms, one with its head and most of it’s right side blown off, the other with a hole through its chest. “What the fuck was I doing? I was dreaming and then I… Damn. So this is what I can do. Murder every fucking thing in sight. Well isn’t that just fucking great.” He glanced around again, and noticed a form chained to one of the walls. “Hey! Hold on, I’ll get you down!” He called.
Running over, he recognized the form as the Slicer who had been in the cell block with him. Now that he got a good look at her, she was in horrible shape. She was around 5’8”, but she was so thin her ribs were showing, and with the cuts and bruises all over her body, she gave the appearance of an over-abused Barbie doll some brother had tortured his sister with. As Andrew removed the chains on her arms, she stirred slightly. “You”
“Yes, me. Is that your old tamer on the table over there?” Andrew motioned towards the limp form.
“He was. And was. He’s dead, now. They killed him before you got here”
Andrew finished removing the manacles and gently lifted her into his arms. “I’m sorry, if I had been here sooner, I would have-“
She shook her head. “It was better for him to die than to live in that state. I’m glad it happened, and I’m sure he was, too” She blinked owlishly at Andrew.
He saw it and shook his head. “Oh no, you don’t go to sleep on me. Someone who is awake is alive. And you are so close to death that sleep would be bad. Stay awake until I can get you to a pokécenter. Do you have a pokéball?”
The Slicer didn’t respond. Andrew looked down and saw her eyes closed. “NO! WAKE THE FUCK UP!” He screamed and fired his gun down the hallway. Her eyes shot open and she started coughing.
“What the hell was that!” She gasped at him.
“Making sure you were alive. Do. You. Have. A. Pokéball?” He asked, punctuating each word with a slight tap on her forehead.
“Not anymore. They destroyed it. They kept gear in a storage room near the torture room, though. The first few times, I saw it. After that, I was too tired to care.”
Andrew examined her closely. “You’re feral, aren’t you? How long have they kept you here? Months? Years?”
She glanced up at him. “I’m not feral. I’m damn close, but I’m not feral. I wouldn’t be talking if I was, you idiot. They wanted me… Aware while they tortured Michael. They wanted me to remember it…” She trailed off and looked away. Andrew could see a tear slowly leak out of her eyes before she turned all the way from him. He looked up.
“Right. Storage room it is.”
Trudging back along a pathway that seemed slightly familiar to his tired brain, Andrew saw a door that seemed well-used.
“Alright, storage room. Maybe. Hopefully.” He tried the door. Locked. He looked at the handle for a few seconds before blowing the door off its hinges.
“Yep. That’s it. I’m officially done with this place. Fuck doors, locks, and halls. I am DONE.”
He walked in and set the feebly protesting Slicer down. He glanced around. There were pokéballs, poképacks, potions, anything a tamer would be carrying. Which is how they got it, he supposed. Murdering tamers. Andrew shook his head and grabbed a potion.
“Here, drink this. It’ll stabilize you if something happens on the way to a pokécenter, ok?” He said, offering it to the Slicer. She took it and feebly sipped, the lacerations and bruises beginning to fade. “Do you have a name? And don’t give me any bullshit about me naming you. I’m not your tamer, and I won’t be if you don’t want me.”
The Slicer looked at him for a minute before sighing and leaning back. “Michael called me Hauteclere, or Claire.”
Andrew looked surprised. “He named you after a historical sword. Well, one of the least known swords ever, but it is tied to Arthurian legend. Was he into history?”
Claire glared at him. “It was his passion. Sometimes he spent too much time reading goddamn books than training or taming.” Andrew chuckled. “What? Why is that funny?”
Andrew smiled. “It’s just that you sound like my mother right now. She was always after me for reading, or disconnecting from the real world in any way. She wanted me to face my problems, not run from them.” He looked wistfully away. “Fat lot of good my knowledge of history will do me here.”
They sat in silence for a short time before Claire tossed the empty potion at Andrew. “Finished. Thank you, by the way. Sepuku was my only option, but I would never have been able to complete it.” She stood and reached for a pokéball. “Here. Catch me.” She tossed it to a surprised Andrew. “Don’t look at me like that. All men want sex. You obviously like me, or you wouldn’t have come after me. And I like you. Maybe someday you will grow tired of me, but I don’t care.” Andrew stared at her. “You wouldn’t happen to have celestial in your heritage, would you?” He asked nervously.
She smiled. “Valkyrie counts, right? My mom was a Valkyrie, so yes, I do. It’s why I’m so calm right now. Call it talent, call it heritage, but I take things well. I’m a freak pokégirl.”
Andrew smiled slightly. “And I’m a freak human. I do believe we’ll do just fine.” He said, as he pushed himself up and clutched Claire tightly, pressing the pokéball against her shoulder. The capture tone sounded almost instantly, and Andrew stumbled backwards, falling against the wall. “I will never grow tired, Claire.” He murmured, and slowly sank into unconsciousness.