(Untitled)

[_java_]

As the hours passed, Java began to lose her sense of time. Minutes dragged by in the darkness, hours, days, years, and it was all the same to her; it seemed a lifetime and yet only moments since her visitor had left her, and Java's mind was beginning to betray her. As much as she had disliked dealing with her guest, it had at least served to

Comments

[_into_the_fray_]

The door creaked open, and the light switch clicked on. A sickly yellow glow emanated from a single bulb attached to the ceiling, covered only by a simple iron grate. The smell of mold and dank that lived in the walls of the small room filled the nose of the man who entered, and served to prepare him for his work. He didn't mind his job, it was what he had been hired to do, and he was good at it. In fact, it was one of the only things he was really good at, and he took no small amount of pride in performing his art. Pushing a small metal cart into the area before closing the door behind him, he watched the woman who was bound to the bolted down chair, her hands tied securely behind her back. She looked strong, her posture willful, even as she was tied and blindfolded, and he allowed a small smile to form on his face at the thought of finally being given a challenge

[_java_]

Java's eyes squinted for a moment as the man removed the blindfold, her gaze darting left, then right, taking in the tiny room with the quick, pointed glances of a caged animal. They'd put her in a closet, she realized, her nose wrinkling slightly-- and there was no sign of a surveillance camera. It was insulting, but perhaps useful; if this was the best they could manage, then her kidnappers were likely small-time thugs with specific demands, who had somehow gotten ahold of the bracelet she now wore. After all, anyone who had had any idea of what they were dealing with would certainly have known to keep an eye on her, she told herself; she was strong, she was not to be toyed with. While the cart that had been wheeled in was somewhat intimidating, Java had no doubts that the situation should be more than manageable; she'd been through far worse than a handful of kids with some rope. She just had to stay strong, and things would come together; she had already dealt with one guest, and dealing with another should be a simple enough

[_into_the_fray_]

As she spoke, Line watched her intently, taking in her every word, movement, tone of voice, and overall demeanor; his face retaining its neutral expression while his mind calculated and processed the new input with lightening speed. When the woman finished speaking, Line looked at his half eaten plum for a second as if considering. After glancing once more at her face, he once again turned his attention to the plum and took another medium sized bite, his posture as perfect as her own. Silence hung in the air as he continued eating the piece of fruit, his gaze not returning to her until he'd eaten the last bit and discarded the pit onto the floor. Looking down at his jeans he lazily wiped the remainder of the juice onto his pant leg before finally returning his attention to her

[_java_]

The force of the unexpected hit snapped Java's head back and to the side, her face throbbing with a hot, dull pain where he'd struck her. The pain wasn't nearly as intense as what the first man had done to her with the bracelet, but Line's utter spontaneity and his strangely impersonal words made the blow somehow terrifying. The smirk was gone from her lips in an instant, and Java looked up with angry, frightened eyes as the man moved over to the cart. It was just a mind game, she told herself, forcing her expression back to one of controlled calm and ignoring the pain; intimidation took many forms, and she needed to keep up a strong facade if she wanted to maintain her control of the situation. She focused her attention on the boy's disrespect, and on what she would do to him the moment she was free; no one spoke to Java in such a manner, and -certainly- no one dared strike her. She wasn't afraid at all, she told herself, straightening her posture again; she was only angry. So Line knew how to successfully backhand a woman. So

[_into_the_fray_]

"That's very considerate of you." Line placed the instrument back in its pocket before selecting a new one and repeating the inspection. "But your concern is unwarranted." Moving over to the cart once more, Line retrieved a small case and placed it atop the displayed tools. With a loud 'click,' he unlatched the fastens, and Line calmly opened the top, revealing a collection of vials each containing a substance of the same color and consistency. "You're not wasting my time." Turning back to face Java for the first time since he'd abruptly struck her, Line ran his hand along the top of the opened case, his face changing slightly from neutrality to a kind of twisted pride. "I'm a chemist of sorts. Well, it's more of a hobby really." His tone held a slight hint of mock modesty before changing immediately to one leaving no room for argument. "There will be no negotiations

[_java_]

Java's relief at seeing the first tool put down was immediately lost at the man's selection of a syringe and the phrase "test subjects." A test subject? He wanted to use her as a -test subject-? Her stomach twisted as she looked coldly at her visitor, but she refused to show him fear; it had to be just another mind game, and would at worst cause pain. She forced a smile; pain was something Java could live with. She just had to keep calm

[_into_the_fray_]

The moment after Java had chosen, Line carefully removed the vial from its clamp, holding it up to the light as Java continued to speak. Taking the syringe with his right hand, he injected the needle into the top of the vial and with deliberate slowness, drew out its contents. Line set aside the syringe, as he placed the empty vial in a small plastic bag before tucking it securely away in the case. He regarded Java's words with utter disinterest as he once again picked up the device; dispensing a bit of excess fluid through the tip of the needle as he measured out the -precise- amount. He tapped it once, his face remaining a complete mask

[_java_]

"There are worse things to love," Java hissed, refusing to show him the pain that the needle jab had caused or the fear that Line's methodical coldness was beginning to inspire in her. The man didn't deserve to see her suffer, she reminded herself; she was still in charge, and Line would have to do much better than this if he wanted any satisfaction from her

[_into_the_fray_]

Giving no forewarning, Java had barely gotten out her last word before Line jerked the dial up to maximum. The stimulants in her system were fast acting, he knew. Along with the compound's main purpose that he'd explained to her, the combination of sudden excruciating pain with this particular high dosage stimulant would send her system into a total uproar. She would want to not only want to scream out in agony, trying to pull away from the impulses caused by the sudden extreme pain, but she would simultaneously have the urge to run; an action she was currently unable to perform. Line wondered absently what the awful combination must feel like as he focused in on her features

[_java_]

The bracelets had been especially designed to bring even the most aggressive of prisoners into line; they were meant to quell the normal human by level four or five, the fiery by six, and the exceptionally strong-willed or physically robust by seven. Jay had passed out at level eight; most found the beauty of submission far earlier. In case of a particularly dangerous situation, however, the bracelets had been designed to reach level ten, although this level had only ever been used in extreme situations. For Java, who was already on edge as a result of the stimulants, the pain of the first jolt was absolutely unimaginable; it felt as if her entire body was being electrocuted, as if every nerve was exploding, and she threw her head back, spine arched and eyes slammed shut. She thrashed like an animal in her bindings, refusing to scream, biting through the inside of her lower lip as her hands writhed behind her, struggling to cling to her sense of self, to keep her focus through the pain. She was stronger than this; she wouldn't

[_into_the_fray_]

Line counted slowly to three before letting up on the dial, savoring her anguished screams as they reverberated off the walls of the small room, noting her body's violent reaction to his treatments. He had done this before, and he knew exactly how much a body could take. The orders he had been given, clearly stated he wasn't to kill her, and wasn't to maim her. It was slightly frustrating, being restricted as he was, but it also increased the challenge, and would make his victory over her all the more satisfying. As he spoke to Java, his voice was neutral, if not holding a slight note of disappointment

[_java_]

He had pushed her to the brink of what a human, -any- human, could possibly endure, and had then pushed her further, and now Line had the gall to accuse Java of being an easy kill for having merely screamed? Though her body still twitched with the aftershocks of his ministrations, Java's eyes held nothing but hatred as they bored into her captor; she hated him for what he'd done to her, for what he'd said to her, and she hated herself for having given him what he wanted, but she had no fear whatsoever for him now, on any level. He could do no worse than he'd already done, now; there was nothing left to fear

[_into_the_fray_]

With a barely audible sigh, Line stood up once more after listening to Java's choked out words, peering down at her without any sign of outward emotion. "Your answer is a 'no' then." He said nothing for a moment, looking her over from head to toe like she was a specimen on a lab table, paying close attention to odd, minor details. The condition of the left side of her neck, the timing between the tremors in her foot. His eyes squinted questioningly, his mind sorting through and analyzing each observation, before he walked around behind her and taking in the condition of her wrists. They wouldn't scar, of that much he was certain, but he also didn't want to run the risk of any rats in the building being drawn to the scent of blood

[_into_the_fray_]

Reaching again into the dark bag, Line produced a jar labeled RR7 and sat it down in front of him, once again pulling on a pair of disposable tan gloves. Using the same methodical movements he'd used on her sleeve, Line rolled up each pant leg, mentally counting each roll, and making sure each pant leg had an even number. Opening the jar, he began to speak again, his attention centered on her legs now exposed from just above the ankle to just below the knee. Checking once more to make sure her legs were securely bound, he dipped his hand in the jar, removing a small amount of a light clear liquid. "If you think I've gone too fast with you," he began as he covered her left leg in the substance, "then allow me to be a gentleman and remedy the situation." Repeating his actions, he covered her other leg in turn, before recapping the jar, disposing of his gloves, and cleaning up any residue with a sanitation wipe. Zipping up the bag, he removed a ripe peach from the rapidly diminishing tray of food and sat back down on the stool, one