Title: Warehouse Of Fear
Author:
badly_knitted Characters: Ianto, Jack
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None.
Summary: It’s a dark, shadowy and creepy place and they’re not prepared for what they find.
Word Count: 535
Written For:
juliet316’s prompt ‘Torchwood, Jack Harkness, torture chamber’ at
fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
They’d been wandering around the gloomy warehouse for a long time, ducking streamers of cobwebs and jumping at unexplained creepy noises. Shadows jumped and danced around them in the eerie, flickering light. They kept close together; probably not sensible as it made them such an easy target, but the walls were too close to do otherwise. They had no choice about which way to go either, there was only one direction open to them; forwards. They could hear soft sounds back the way they’d come, they were being followed and all they could do was keep going.
Another turn in the narrow passage between stacked crates and Ianto jumped, almost yelping as something soft brushed against him. Smothering a laugh, Jack pulled him onwards through the gloom.
“Didn’t know you were so jumpy.” Jack spoke so softly, Ianto could barely hear.
“I’m not, it just tickled.” Ianto’s reply was just as quiet.
“Like I’m going to believe that. This is creeping you out, isn’t it? This whole place…” He was silenced by a glare.
“Keep moving, we have to stay ahead,” Ianto hissed.
The passageway continued to twist and turn, until abruptly it opened out into a larger, shadow-filled area that was clearly right up against the warehouse wall. Rusty chains and manacles hung from walls that dripped with slime and they could see beady eyes glaring out at them from the darkness beneath a bloodstained workbench. The bench itself was cluttered with knives, hacksaws, pliers and what looked like a car battery with clips attached. Several whips, their lashes spiked and knotted, hung nearby, and a rack, its frame and rollers scored and pitted with age, stood off to one side, awaiting its next victim. Everything was stained with blood and gore. A rust-spotted, sharp-pointed, hooked device drew Jack’s eyes and he shuddered, swallowing hard, mouth gone suddenly dry.
“You okay?” Ianto whispered, squeezing his hand.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.”
“Yeah, maybe. I wasn’t expecting to come across anything like this.”
Evil cackling laughter sounded and they caught themselves glancing around fearfully.
“Come on, we’d better keep moving, can’t be much further.” Ianto tugged on Jack’s hand, taking the lead, quickly crossing the torture chamber and ducking into another passageway, thick with cobwebs, huge spiders lurking just on the edge of vision.
Ianto was right; they didn’t have much further to go. A few more twists and turns, and suddenly a doorway loomed just a few metres away. With sighs of relief, they almost ran the short distance, throwing the door open and stumbling out, clutching each other, giggling breathlessly as the door swung closed again behind them. Jack glanced back at the Halloween Fun House.
“Well, that was fun, right up until the Torture Chamber! That hit a bit too close to home.”
“Yeah, sorry, my mate didn’t tell me about that part, otherwise I wouldn’t have suggested it.”
“No harm done.” Jack took a few deep breaths. “You know, it’s probably done me good. Wanna go again?”
“You sure? I mean, we don’t have to…”
“Are you chickening out?”
“Not likely! Okay, lead the way!” Laughing, they headed around to the entrance to get back in line.
The End