Episode 053

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“Typical. Bad guys always have the edge on us. It’s like a rule or something.”

            Shadowcat, Excalibur

 

            The door opened up with the sound of rusted metal groaning with motion.  Light was sent across a dank wall, spots of moss covering the cracks in the thick, ancient brick.  With a fast shove, Sarah was thrust into the room.  She landed hard, collapsing to her hands and knees.

            Two figures stepped into the room as well, grabbing her arms.  She yanked her left arm free, causing her capture to stumble back, and punched the man on the right in the face.  She threw her arm forward, sending him crashing onto the ground as she stood to face the other man.

            But as she did, two prongs shot out, jabbing into her side.  Her entire body went rigid as electricity coursed through her body.  The prongs came out and she slumped onto the floor.  The two men got up and grabbed Sarah’s arms.  They slid her jacket off, then tore open her shirt, ripping it off.  With violent shove, they threw her onto the moist brick ground, dressed only in a few layers of silk.

            Gasping, she lifted up, a violent look in her eyes as the door shut.  She looked around, shivering in the humid cold.  Standing by the door was a man holding a tazer.  He smiled at her, then glanced towards a bucket in the corner.  “Have a seat.”

            Emma slumped back down against the wall, pulling her legs underneath her.  She stared at the man as she caught her breath.  “You’re in a precarious situation, my dear.”

            “Story of my life,” she countered defiantly.

            He smiled.  “Not this time.  This time you’re in a little over your head.”  He walked over to the bucket and turned it over and sat down.  He reached into his jacket and pulled out some cigarettes.  “Want one?”

            “If I asked you to not smoke in here, would it matter?” she returned.

            “No,” he said simply, lighting the cigarette.  The flash of flame revealed a thin beard over his tanned face.  But in an instant, he was cloaked in shadow again.  “I’m here on loan to these people.  Consider me something of a sub-contractor, with them but not part of them.  Now, they want something from you.  And I want you to give it to them.  ‘Why’ you ask,” he posed as if to keep her from doing so.  “Because it’s in my best interest if you do, it’s in my employer’s best interest if you do, and most importantly to you, it’s in your best interest if you do.”

            The man took a long moment to take a drag from his cigarette, then blew it at Sarah.  “See, I know about the Responders.”  Sarah didn’t react.  “I know about your transporting that…thing to Denmark.  We knew all of that.  You’re…ants to my employer.  They’ll get what they want.  If not from you, from someone else.  So if you resist, you’re only delaying them getting what they want and hastening your own suffering.”

            He stood up, finishing his cigarette.  He flicked it at Sarah, the smoking embers splashing against the wet wall by her head.  She continued to glare at him as he approached the door.  “Consider it, but don’t consider it for too…”

            The door was thrown open, light cascading onto Sarah.  Blinded, she turned away.  Standing in the doorway, a man stood dramatically.  “<Leave us, >” he ordered to the first man.  Sarah looked up as he headed out, able to make out nothing more than curly black hair.

            The door shut again and the new figure towered over Sarah.  She could hear him smiling; detect the slightest presence of his fangs as he stared down at her.  But all she could see was a silhouette.  “No doubt, he offered you something already,” the man said in Danish-stained English.

            Sarah glared for a moment, then rose to her feet.  Standing face to face with the man, she stared fearlessly into his eyes.  “Send him back in, vampire,” she said.  “I don’t deal with your kind.”  She stepped away from him, crossing her arms, unbothered by her minimal apparel.  “Let me guess.  You were turned recently, within the last hundred years.  You’ve forsaken your mortal name and you now call yourself something ridiculous like ‘Ominous McJewenstein’,” she accused.  “And now you think that you’ve got something that resembles power.”

            “My dear, power I do have,” he said.  “But I’ll let you continue to call me ‘Ominous’, since you seem so delighted to do so.  And since you’ve told me what you think of me, allow me to tell you want I think of you.”

            In the blink of an eye, Sarah was shoved against the wall.  Held by her throat, her feet dangled over the ground as she was held up by an ice-cold grip stronger than steel.  Before her, a pair of dark eyes glowed red, casting illumination over the angry glare of the vampire.

            “I think you are a pathetic weakling who hides behind the orders and wishes of your UN masters,” he bellowed, “enslaving and dominating everyone and everything on this planet.”  He released her.  Sarah fell to the ground, coughing.  Hovering a few inches over her, the vampire stared down at her with disdain.  “You will give me what I want.  Or I will make you beg for death.”

            He lowered down, grabbing her head.  Clinching tightly, he held her up as she grabbed his hand.  Her body quaked as her skull groaned under the strain.  “Now,” Ominous said directly, “let us begin by discussing where in Paris the Responders are located.”

 

            Slowly, the darkness gave way to more darkness.

            Irene’s eyes fluttered open drowsily.  She could feel the smooth, wet stone beneath her head and body.  The cold made her shiver uncontrollably as she curled in on herself.  She looked around, for the first time realizing that she was in only her bra and underwear.  “What’s going on?” she asked quietly.

            “Irene?” came a voice.

            “Lisa?” she asked, sitting up.  As she did, her head ached.  Lisa drew close in the darkness of the tiny cell.  “What happened?”  Irene asked, holding her head.

            “The plane crashed,” Lisa explained, helping Irene stay upright.  A potent edge of panic lingered in her words.  “We swam to shore, but we got attacked almost immediately.  We were brought here, wherever here is, and thrown into this cell.”

            “Where’s Sarah?” Irene asked, sitting up under her own balance.  She looked around slowly, aching with the tiniest motion.  “Where are we?”

“We’re somewhere still in Denmark,” Lisa said.  “We didn’t go too far.  As for where’s Sarah,” she shook her head, hopeless.  “I don’t know.”

 
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