Deep inside the depths of Archangel, beneath the layer of established pecking order and impenetrable security net, a domain of lawless space existed for the benefit of the Warden. It was here that those who broke the rules ended up, to be disciplined and destroyed.
A disarrayed order of rooms filled this domain, which had come to be known as Section T. Only whispers and rumors were heard about this hidden domain. Stories of torture and utter despair, told with disgust and a drowning fear from those who still had even the faintest of memories of their own experience there. The mention of Terror itself was a bane for their existence and sanity.
It was through these cramped, endless corridors that Wallachia was being hauled in the morning eclipse of space. Her sleep had been interrupted by the mechanized guardians of Archangel, the Naras; millions of small, nightmarish metallic spiders controlled by a central A.I, each equipped with its own neurotoxin. It was this very poison that now rushed through her veins, denying her control of her own limbs. Several times she had been carried through these corridors by the Naras' tickling, disgusting, legs in this state, but it had been a long time since the last visit. Idly, she wondered why.
A gate flung open, ramming its steel against the walls of the small white room, with two guards standing at attention inside. As the Naras brought her inside, the guards observed her with pity and anger. One of them wore a glare that spoke about friends lost to her mercy. He tapped his fingers in anticipation on the magical rifle strapped to his shoulder.
The Naras melted into a great, seamless hand and supported her body until it was upright, with her arms stretched out into the air, her body dangling free. Mechanical binds erupted from the walls and grabbed hold of her wrists and ankles. The Naras detached, slithering down her body in a solid wave of silver, and disappeared into microscopic holes in the walls.
The neurotoxin's duration in her bloodstream was exact. As soon as the Naras had left the room, Wallachia's dull mind and paralyzed limbs began to return to their former sharpness in a slow pulse of awareness. An eerie silence, only crowded by the heavy, excited breathing of the guards, welcomed her as she surveyed the room enclosing her being.
Not the slightest detail had changed since her last visit. The walls were still smooth, white as snow, devoid of stains. It was such a clinical space, indicating nothing of its intended purpose. It had always been so different from her former home, she thought.
She cast a glance at the binds preventing her to move. A sigh escaped her lungs, one of boredom. Even the crucifixion had been done in the same old way as in her previous visits. If there was something the staff lacked, she mused, it was creativity.
"So this is Bloody Seven," one of the guards said and regarded her with interest. "And she did all that?"
"Yep, she sure did. It's not like I can forget." The guard who had on her entrance regarded her with greater hostility and anger sighed. "You know what ticks me off the most? I'm not allowed to lay a fucking finger on her, unless she does something hostile. It's retarded, I tell you."
"But wasn't she punished for what she did?"
Wallachia stared at them, switching between the two.
"She sure was, but by the administration. I didn't get my share of fun."
"That sucks, man." He looked at the room they were in, searching for something. "Is this room being observed as we speak?"
"Yeah. Trust me, I tried to find a way, but..."
The door opened again, interrupting him, and another man arrived at the room, dressed in a labcoat and carrying a black, antique suitcase.
"You two, step back and be alert," he immediately said upon entering. The authority almost shone from him.
The guards grunted and, with some reluctance, did as they were told. The man in the labcoat put down the suitcase onto a small table and with a fast flick of his hands, the suitcase's locks opened and revealed its contents.
"It's a pleasure to see you again, Seven. It's been quite a while."
Wallachia smiled as she remembered the name of the face in front of her. "Hammond, right? Thought I'd recognize such a pathetic face."
"Still as eager to tease, eh?" He retrieved a syringe from the suitcase and tapped it with a finger. "You'll be given something special today. A real treat for being such a nice and obedient girl, courtesy of the Warden. And myself, of course."
"Of course. I must say, the Warden really treats me well."
"Is that sarcasm I hear or are you actually being honest?" He laughed and turned to face her. A grin had spread across his face as he spoke. "Look at this syringe. Inside, it's a marvel of advanced combinations of chemicals. It's been worked on for months now and you, my dear Seven, will be the first to try it. I've put my own sweat and blood into this wonderful substance, and I'm excited to see how it will work."
"To be honest, Hammond, I doubt it will work," Wallachia retorted with a sarcastic smile. "Just take a good look at yourself and realize; you are worthless. You're just a pawn that the Warden will discard whenever he wants. Although frankly, that would be a fitting end for your career. You haven't exactly succeeded in the science department."
The corner of Hammond's mouth twitched as he stepped closer, but he didn't give in for the insult. "We'll see. We'll see."
He pinched her skin on her left arm with two fingers and slowly inserted the red hot needle through the bulge between his fingers, a trickle of blood appearing at the point. It stung as it usually did, but Wallachia was used to it. Only a swift blink of her eyes gave away the discomfort.
"Now... This is where I can finally see the fulfilment of my creation," Hammond whispered and pushed the plunger with deliberate slowness.
A few seconds passed. She could feel the fluid slip through her veins and disappear without a reaction. Hammond was grinning in front of her, almost rubbing his hands together in excitement. She sneered at him in defiance.
"It won't work, Hammond. I'm too strong for you. Why won't you realize that?"
Her throat suddenly contracted, no longer able to spout more insults at the grinning scientist. A pounding cramp conquered every muscle in her body. Her back straightened itself and it felt as if her chest was going to explode. Her blood started to rush in an insane storm, her heart barely keeping up with the flow.
Explosions erupted inside her head, a deafening booming eachoing the collapse of her mind. The drug took a hold of every cell in her body, turning them all inside out, as a piercing pressure began to build at the front of her head, threatening to rip her skull open.
She wanted to scream from the intolerable pain. She wanted to yell her throat dry, as the drug raped her being. Yet, her body refused to obey her tormented pleas. It kept on living, through the insane chaos of torture that made one wish for a quick end. An escape from the darkness that had now enveloped her.
Images of past events flashed past in her distorted mind, merged into an unintelligible mess of hallucination and reality. She could feel the taste of blood on her tongue, feel the entrails on her hands of a boy she had ravage beyond recognition. Everywhere there were corpses aflame, the smell of burnt flesh flooding her nose and a red ocean covering the ground.
With another flash she was overturned and beaten to an inch of her life. Next there was hands all over her body, searching and groping and feeling. A body pushing itself against hers, thrusting and panting. Humiliation hitting her in its full, impossible, force. A pain she had never felt before torturing her body. The Warden's face looming above, drenched in sweat and a savage grin haunting his distorted face.
A knife suddenly flicked, slashing her gut open. Her stomach exploded, her entrails hanging out in a mishmash of meat and blood. She tried to pick it up and put it back, inside her stomach where it belong. Too slippery. It wouldn't stick. She grunted and cried out of desperation. It just wouldn't fit back in.
Someone laughed at her. An echo, evolving into a thousand voices laughing in unison. It overtook her mind, her cries to stop drowned out by it. She yelled at them to shut up, only a voice among many that wouldn't be heard. She clenched her head in her arms, trying to block the voices out, to no avail. The laughing grew, louder and louder. She screamed, as it was the only thing she could do.
Then, it stopped. The gallery of images from hell and the chorus of voices disappeared into a dark, peaceful and silent void she now drifted through, her body and mind still aching. Down below, far, far beyond the borders of space, she could see a little girl with her parents, laughing to their hearts' content. Next, the same girl and a young man, a faint recognition hitting her mind. They talked and laughed, love growing out of nothing but a destined meeting.
The tearful farewell, the bloody murder of the girl's parents. A journey through the darkest hours and gory rumors. The girl had gone insane, having a blast on other people's lives. The golden time of a lifetime.
A miscalculation and a sacrifice. She could see the girl being dragged off into the hell which she herself now dwelt. She could feel the girl's torment running through her own. The drugs twisting her mind into mush, the constant insults hurled from the mouths of sneering guards. The abuse and violation surging through her like shock wave.
A cold wind touched her cheek and in the darkness she turned around, to face her old mentor once again. He had a warm, inviting smile, holding his arms ready to embrace, but she couldn't move into them, to feel that warmth again. She couldn't move her body, limited only to observe.
Then his features began to change. The young man, whom she had loved so dearly, melted into a shapeless abomination of flesh and tissue, with the mark of an armor she recognized bright as day. The familiar red color and its texture told her mind exactly what she was looking at.
Tentacles of meat extended towards her. She could feel its honest intent; to hug, to comfort. Slowly she drifted towards the abomination. She felt no smell, nor fear. She had nothing to fear from it, regardless of its appearance.
The meat embraced her, slabs of it dripped onto her and blood flowed down over the two. She felt with her hands over it, sticky from the fluid that covered it. It was here, at last. The final obstacle.
"Thank you," she said softly. "But I'm a big girl now. I don't need you anymore. Goodbye."
With a swift hand she impaled the abomination. A bloody fountain erupted from the hole in its back and a high-pitched, gut-wrenching scream destroyed the silence in the void. They drifted apart, the flailing of the abomination slowly coming to a stop and Wallachia herself drift backwards into the dark.
Then it all returned. As if she had emerged from the ocean's depth, light and voices broke through and the pain made its re-entrance, although it was now more subdued, with a red haze clouding everything. She could feel an odd inner peace emerging from the core of her being, and an overbearing thirst for power starting to build up in her veins. A spike of pain shot through her head and she gripped her temples with one hand on impulse. It was only a second later the revelation hit her, with faint surprise, that her shackles were no longer restraining her. She glanced up at her captivators, with a throbbing pain behind her eyes.
Hammond, still wearing an inexplicable grin, had backed away and was now frantically gesturing at the guards. That expression of his, one of delight and supremacy refused to erase itself, but started to mix with a sudden surprise and royal fear. He was partly blinded by his own perceived success, delaying his mind's reactions. The guards on the other hand were determined, but scared. She could smell it, feel it even. Her senses saw their fear as if they had been painted with it.
"Take her down!"
One of them jumped at her. Wallachia's reactions was impeded by the red haze settling over her vision and the aching pain all over her body, preventing her from dodging in time. He slammed into her forcefully and rammed her against the wall, a forearm across her throat. Behind him Hammond walked forth, another syringe ready.
Despite the pain and hunger, Wallachia began to push the guard back. Regardless of his superior size, towering over her almost twice as tall, his feet slipped backwards, unable to get a proper grip. No matter how much he struggled the sudden immovable power flooding out of Wallachia refused to let him push her back. Sweat dripped from his brow and he could only stare into those red eyes of utter determination. She could almost taste the horror rushing in his mind.
With Hammond only half a meter away, syringe at the ready, Wallachia made her move. Slipping elegantly to the side, she got a better grip of the guard and kicked at his knee. The noise of crushed bones echoed forth and the guard shrieked like a pig, losing his balance strutting around on one leg. With a powerful push from Wallachia he fell backwards, onto Hammond and the syringe. It pierced the back of the guard's neck, injecting its chemicals before breaking into two, and they inelegantly tumbled to the floor.
Without stopping, Wallachia rushed towards the other guard. He was starting to panic, his determination crumbling. He wasn't thinking clearly, shaking in his clothes and his mouth gaping open at the scene unfolding. Yet, he had the awareness to fire his rifle he now clutched with white knuckles.
The shot went wide and missed by a good margin. She was moving too fast for his panic-stricken mind to comprehend. She enjoyed it a lot. This fear, the horror-struck expression he made on his face. He probably had even wet his pants.
He took another shot, this one actually nudging its target by sheer luck. Wallachia felt a sting on her right thigh, but kept on going. The hit had only drawn blood on the surface, incapable of even slowing her down.
Within another second she was upon him. She grabbed his wrists, and as he dropped the rifle, pulled him close to her face, grinning in delight. His teeth were clenched, his eyes wide open.
Before his mind could register what was happening, the veins within his wrists was ripped out by Wallachia's sharp teeth. Warm blood sprouted into her mouth, filling her with that orgasmic sensation she hadn't felt for so long. Her power increased, the energy within tipping her over the edge. It was all a sea of euphoria. For one small second, all of her pain disappeared. The throbbing in her head was gone, and the haze faded into nothing.
Another shot rang out and brought her out of her delusion. This time it had been well-aimed, only passing a centimeter from her head. She released the guard, who fell against the wall, screaming and kicking in terror at his wrists bleeding all over him. She turned around slowly, to stare at Hammond with a gun in his hand. It didn't shake, nor was he grinning anymore.
"Please, stand down," he said. It was the voice of authority again, but without the humor. He had realized he'd lost control. "Please, just fucking stand there and wait for my beautiful creation to do what it's designed for."
He didn't bat an eyelash at the two guards who had just been mauled. He only cared for his creation. Wallachia was fine with that. She didn't care either way. From the corner of an eye she could see the return of the Naras, coming from holes in the walls. The small spiders amassed into a solid lump that surrounded her completely, just barely touching her feet. Someone had called for them.
"Haha, what perfect timing." Hammond lowered his gun and gestured at the Naras. A relieved smile appeared. He hadn't called for them she thought. "You guys are real saviors."
Wallachia knew all too well what the Naras were capable of... Yet, she couldn't feel any intention to harm in the way they moved. She didn't know how, but something told her they were under control, posing no danger to her at all. She removed her gaze from them and gave Hammond a stare of the purest ice. Slowly she took a step forward. The Naras cleared away from her feet. The sea of mechanical spiders moved with each step and cleared a path to Hammond.
Hammond froze and his smile was gone. He could see the Naras getting out of her way and he knew he mustn't stay there any longer. But his body didn't want to move. His eyes were utterly transfixed on Wallachia's blood red eyes. He couldn't tear himself away from them, even if his mind screamed to his body to aim and pull the gun's trigger. Something unseen held him in place.
Closer and closer she came, until she stood right in front of him. They could feel each others breathing, almost hear the other's heartbeats. She could feel the pain again boiling beneath her skin. The red haze returned, heavier than before. She was losing her concentration. Almost there...
Below them the Naras were amassed, reporting everything back to the surveillance center. They could see and hear everything. Wallachia brought her mouth right next to Hammond's ear and whispered, "Frightened yet? Still high on your fake success?" She gripped his throat with her fingers and pressed lightly. "I'd just love to tear you open and bathe myself in your black blood. But even that is a too good thing for someone like you."
Her mind weakened, the excruciating pain returning, and her grip upon Hammond's soul released. As his limbs came back under his control, his being still shaken to the core from what had unfolded, he lost his grip of the pistol and dropped it into the sea of Naras. Sweat ran down his face and he stared, with rage in his eyes and humiliation flaring on his cheeks, at Wallachia.
"You... You'll pay for this!"
Regaining his senses, he dove for the pistol. Wallachia did nothing, only watching. His hand threw itself into the Naras to retrieve it, but several sudden and painful stings made him pull back.
"What..." he whispered and stared at his hand unbelievingly. Red blemishes came forth, hundreds of them. His mind raced towards what it meant. Of course he knew what would happen. The knowledge he had of the Naras had always been comforting, but now it had switched to horror.
"It's your toxin," Wallachia mused. She'd walked backwards slowly and was now slouching, barely holding herself upright against the opposite wall. "You came up with it yourself. You must be so proud right now."
Hammond went down on his knees and his veins screamed from under his skin with vibrant red. The toxin had been injected far more than a human body could handle and his system pumped it around without knowing what it would do. She watched, amused, as the Naras began to crawl onto Hammond, their small thin legs tickling his skin.
His body unable to hold him up due to the toxin, he fell to his side, eyes of terror staring at the crawling spiders. The Naras covered him under their numbers and entered through his mouth and nose. Wallachia shuddered; even she was disturbed by the thought of having those horrifying creatures scouting her insides. She looked away, as Hammond's body convulsed as if possessed. A gurgle escaped his throat that was filled with saliva and a hand tried to reach for her, either asking for forgiveness or with an urge to strangle the last drip all the life her body contained. Then he went limp. His eyes became empty and the noises stopped.
The Naras came forth from his silent corpse, surging through Hammond's veins that moved and coiled around themselves as the Naras moved within. They dropped in black chunks from Hammond's disfigured face, and disappeared into the walls, leaving the room with only Wallachia and three mutilated corpses. They disappeared so fast it was apparent they were under direct control.
The thick red haze still covered Wallachia's vision, blinding her from the outside world. Her head still ached as if a heated nail was pressed against her brain. All the time, throughout the scene played out in the cell, images had flashed of grotesque mutilations and warped victims she had once gourged herself upon. She was almost disgusted by the sight, something that even surprised herself. She was supposed to like it, to embrace it, but it was just too much, too fast. Against her will she began to reflect upon it.
Her introspection, before it had even begun, was interrupted by banging on the locked door. She didn't recognize the voices yelling from the other side. Probably reinforcements she concluded and slid down on her side, joining the corpses. Chaos was still surging through her body, wrecking havoc on her mind.
She suddenly felt tired. A deep sleep beckoning beyond the horizon. It was scary, but she let it come. She closed her eyes. Against her closed eyelids, the bizarre images still played, in an orchestra of distorted colors and noises.