Part 5: 

Scott was lead down the corridor, passing many cells like the one he and the others were held in. As the man lead the way his five guards walking behind with Scott between them, Scott noticed how all the people in the cells hurried away from the force shield, hiding in the corners. The people he did see looked weak and most had rags on bodies which were covered with bruises and cuts. Scott felt sorry for them for all they had had to endure but more than anything that they had been so broken, looking as if only the promise of the peace in death could set them free. He tried not to shiver. He would be strong. No matter what happened he’ll keep the dream in his heart. A dream of freedom. These were his conscious thoughts but beneath them he felt the fear, the pain beginning to surface and he tried desperately to control it. He feared for the others; Logan’s temper would surely get them in trouble, Xavier was a liability to them and was in danger of being killed as he couldn’t do any labour standing up, Peter would die before letting them hurt Kitty, Jubilee and Bobby’s sharp tongues would surely earn them punishment and above all he feared for Jean. His wonderful Jean, the love of his life and the light of his heart. The thought of her harmed in any way was too painful to even consider. He feared for himself too. Especially now as he was dragged towards a room and he heard screams from the other rooms around it. As Scott was pushed into the room he was sure he had entered Hell. There were more torture equipment on the walls than Gestapo had had in headcounters. There were chains, whips, knifes, guns and electric things that Scott didn’t recognise. For once he felt ignorance was a bliss as he really didn’t want to find out what they could do. In the room was a table with a lamp on it, a chair, chains handing from the ceiling and a old fashioned torture beach.

“ Hang him,” the man ordered and Scott felt a surge of fear. Were they to kill him now? Just like that? Two men came to him and forced his arms above his head and locked them in the chains hanging from the ceiling. Despite the trouble he was in Scott felt a surge of relief. They weren’t gonna kill him. Not yet anyway. A guard pushed a button on the wall and the chairs pulled Scott up with them, letting him hang in the air. The strain in his arms was unpleasant to say the least.

“ Let’s try and do this civilised. I know there are more mutants in your group. Tell me where your base of operations is and I’ll let you return to your cell and your…woman,” the man’s voice was remarkable reasonable and controlled, annoying the hell out of him. Yeah, right. Tell you so you can capture and enslave them all. Eventually kill them, my brother included. No thanks, Scott thought darkly. At least they hadn’t connected the school to the X-men which wasn’t surprising. No one would think it was THAT obvious.

“ You knew my answer before you asked,” Scott answered and tried to keep his voice under control. He wasn’t sure if the mention of Jean was meant as a threat or not but he didn’t like it. The man leaned closer to Scott, being forced to look up at him as he was hanging ½ meter up in the air.

“ This is your last chance. My colleagues here will not be as reasonable as I. They have a great hatred for your kind and would love to….work on you. And eventually they WILL break you,” he promised as he gestured to the guards, the murder and hatred in their eyes telling Scott clearer than words that he wasn’t lying.

“ I know,” Scott admitted and licked suddenly dry lips. He would break eventually but he’ll be damned if he’ll go down without a fight.

“ Even if you are a mutant I do admire your courage although it will do you no good. Guards,” he called and the five men moved up to him, saluting.

“ Yes, Sir?”

“ Use any means necessary but I want to know the location of their base,” he saw the look of pleasure in their eyes and added, “ but no permanent damage. What good is a slave who can’t work?”

He turned to leave. 

“ Why do you do this?” Scott yelled after him. He wasn’t like the others. He didn’t take pleasure in pain but used it if it gave him the means to his end. The man turned back to him.

“ Like you, I follow a dream. I believe this to be right as you believe your dream to be right. Had it been the other way around you’ll have done the same as me,” he explained and turned to go again.

“ I doubt it,” Scott called after him.

The door shut close.

“ Now, you’re ours, Pretty Boy,” one guard said and advanced at him. Unexpected yet he should have seen it coming the guard took a swing at him, his fist colliding with Scott’s already sore cheek, forcing his head to fly to the side.

“ You know what? I’ll prefer it if you didn’t talk just yet,” another guard said and took forth a knife and let it careens Scott’s cheek as a lover. Scott forced himself to not draw back as the man pushed harder and the knife drew a trace of blood from Scott’s ear to his lip. Of the five guards one guard had vanished from his line of vision and Scott didn’t like it. He had been living as a blind for a long time and feared that darkness and uncertainty more than anything. He didn’t like not knowing where his enemies were. Suddenly his shirt was torn to pieces and Scott regretted that he hadn’t had the time to put on his uniform as they had heard the emergency call, as it would had been almost impossible to cut into. He knew what was to come as he was stripped to the waist and braced himself as he heard the guard from behind him laugh.

“ I see that someone knows your true place, slave,” he amplified the last word, satisfaction in his voice, “ you have been whipped before.”

Scott briefly closed his eyes as the words bought back memories of the times before for there had been many.

“ Believe me; you haven’t felt anything like this before,” the man from behind him promised and Scott feared he was right. With a crack the whip was folded out and hit the floor. Scott tensed and clashed his teeth tightly together. More because he didn’t want to bite off his tongue in pain than because he didn’t want them to hear him scream.  Sooner than he had expected the first blow fell and Scott nearly cried out at the unexpected pain. Gods, it felt like he was being cut in two. The next blow fell and the whip bit into his back, taking away pieces of flesh. The pain was already becoming intense and almost unbearable.

“ Hit him harder. I want to hear him scream,” one guard said and even though Scott hadn’t thought it possible the whip fell even harder than before. Unwillingly a small moan of pain escaped his lips.

“ That’s better.”

“ Tell me, am I the only one to do some work around here?” the man behind Scott asked someone and he sounded exhausted at swinging the whip as hard as he could at Scott’s back.

“ He’ll not feel any other pain that strongly right now. Wait till Mark is finished,” one said and obviously meant the man with the whip. Scott felt tears burning in his eyes. This was only the beginning. As the whip fell again he did scream out loud in agony as the pain became too intense to bear. Blood warmed his abused skin as it ran down his back to drip onto the floor, making a bigger and bigger pool at his feet. Time lost all meaning as Scott concentrated on bearing this blow and then the next. His vision and world dissolved into nothing more than flickers of red as pain, blood and agony mixed together and drove all rational thoughts from his mind. When the man finally stopped to ask where the other X-men were Scott couldn’t have answered even if he wanted to. His mind was lost in a ocean of darkness, blood and pain as his consciousness was slipping. Angered by his silence, the man beat him again with renewed strength. Scott let out a scream but his mind wasn’t even awake of what he did. Finally he felt the invading darkness in his mind elope him and gratefully he let it take him away from the pain and agony. Finally, he couldn’t feel anything anymore.

 

“ Wake up, mutant. We hadn’t got all day, you know?” a voice holding slight amusement and anger demanded and hit him in the face, his head flying to the side. Scott felt himself being torn from the protective darkness and back into pain and tried to fight it. He wanted to stay where he was. In oblivion. Away from the pain. But despite his effects to the contrary he was pulled away and back towards consciousness. Again a blow and his head flew to the other side. The pain in his broken lip and abused face from countless hits forced him all the way back to consciousness. His arms hurt as he still hung from the ceiling, his back was sore and bleeding and every move he made hurt. His entire body felt as if he was on fire with agony.

“ Finally awake, are we?” one guard asked as he saw Scott force one eye open. The other was swollen from the beatings it had taken and he was unable to open it. It was his right eye and it hurt like hell.

“ Oh, yeah. Sorry about your eye but we needed to amuse ourselves a little, now that you decided to go faint on us,” another guard said with a smile which could freeze the Pacific.

“ What… did….you...do?” Scott weakly tried to ask but it sounded something like; “ Waaa di…y…o?”

“ Oh, well. Who needs two eyes anyway? No mutant slave, that’s for sure,” another guard laughed and Scott felt death creep over him. His worst nightmare had always been to go blind. A paranoid part of his mind was sure they had known this.

“ Enough talk. Let’s have some fun,” a guard Scott didn’t recognise, it had to be the guard who had whipped him, came into his range of vision. In his hands he held a glowing brand and he put it to Scott’s cheek so close he could feel the heat from it and he unwillingly drew back.

“ Now, let’s try this again. Where are the other X-men?” the guard let the brand move towards his left arm, holding it just a few mm´s away from his skin.

“ I….don’t know,” Scott tried to rasp, sweat coming to his brow as fear came forth in him.

“ Bull shirt,” one guard spat and hit him in the stomach, taking his breath away. Scott drew pained breaths as he in horror saw the brand come closer to his skin.

“ What a shame,” the guard, Mark, said with a grin as Scott uselessly and weakly fought against his chains to draw back from him. The brand touched Scott’s skin and he cried out loud in agony as his flesh burned and the stench of flesh, his own flesh, burning filled the air with a sweet aroma and sickened him.