Heritage (Under Revision)

Chapter 46: Leon

“McKellen, position,” I say through my radio in a hushed voice as I stare into the heavily armed compound in front of me.

McKellen was the new team member we received after my promotion had gone through. He was about as old as me but looked much younger. He was almost fidgety in a way, with a scrawny build and some of us on the team wondered how he even made it through the training process. He managed to prove himself though, in a few rather trivial missions we’ve performed thus far. He showed us that despite his skittish demeanor, he was exceptionally quiet and calculating, making him a perfect candidate for preliminary infiltration tasks.

There’s a brief silence before the radio kicks on

“In position,” a voice sounds with a brogue.

“Ten-four. Ry’, where are we?”

“All good LT. Charges set for distraction measures,”

“Alright, let’s mo—”

“Hold up. Something isn’t right,” Briggs says over the radio in a quiet, but stressed tone.

“What?” I reply.

“This is too easy guys. I don’t like it, we need to pull out,”

I raise an eyebrow in confusion before considering what Briggs said.

I think of a way to test his theory.

“Mckellen. Was there anyone in that tower you snuck into?”

“Negative sir, it was all clear up here. Just a strange buzzin’ sound. I figure that’s just the spotlight though,”

My eyes grow wide in realization of the obvious and I stand up from my position, knowing that it doesn’t matter at this point.

“McKellen! Get out of there, now!” I yell through the radio.

Before a response is made the tower explodes in a flash of red light. The shockwave knocking me off my feet. Small pieces of the tower fall in front of me, some of them bouncing off of me. I feel a moisture on my face and as I reach a hand up to wipe it away and look at it, I see that it’s blood...McKellen’s blood, washing over me.

Before I know it, Sekrid soldiers are standing over Maddock and I, rifles sternly pointed at all parts of our bodies. I can hardly notice however, as I realize what’s about to happen, anxiety setting in. A Sekrid strikes me in the head with the butt of his rifle, knocking me unconscious.

A surge of cold startles me from the darkness and I jolt awake with my heart pounding and breathing heavy. My eyes dart around and I fixate on a Sekrid analyzing me for a moment before confirming my alertness and taking his leave. I take the time to read my surroundings in the moments of silence that I have.

The room has walls of pyramid-like structures jutting out from them, colored a charcoal-grey. I feel around, noticing that my hands are restrained behind the metal chair I’m placed in. A bare metal table is placed in front of me with a 4x3 grid of lights placed inside the ceiling high above me.

I’m broken of my studying by the door sliding open with a smooth metal-on-metal sound. I stare intently at the opening as a strange creature steps through.

A woman.

Her skin pale with the same almost sickly bluish-gray that Sekrid have. She stares at me with intensity and I notice her almost mesmerizing vermilion eyes. I can’t help but notice the small tinges of violet that shoot out from the pupil into the rest of the iris. Her hair is so black it’s nearly blue, pulled up tight into a bun. I notice the same brilliant shade of vermilion traveling in a few gradient streaks throughout the locks. Her uniform is pristine, various colored stripes – fruit salad as we call them on Earth – adorn the right side of her chest. The uniform is form fitting, and though her figure is thin, I can see the athletic build as the uniform tightens around the leg and arm areas. I realize that she is one of the most beautiful things I have ever laid eyes upon.

“Sekrid women are quite beautiful aren’t they,” A voice says in the dark, breaking me from my concentration.

I stare back into the doorway and see a figure step into the light, sporting a sinister grin.

I raise an eyebrow “What do you mean Sekrid women?” I ask.

He walks forward towards the table, a sleek black case in hand

“Oh, that’s right, they don’t teach that stuff in school anymore,” He sets the case on the table and I notice the woman disappear through the doorway as it slides closed.

“Forgive me. I didn’t introduce myself,” The man says.

I return my focus back to him and notice that he’s opened the case and begun fiddling with the unknown contents inside.

“My name...” He looks me in the eyes “...is Doctor Peter Hall,”

Confusion enters my mind “Hall? As in—”

“Yes, that Hall,”

“But...why?”

“Let’s just say my brother and I held two very different political opinions on the Sekrid,”

Peter finally slides the case to his left and takes a seat in the chair on the other side of the table. He continues to maintain a slight smile on his face, seemingly always maintaining a cheerful mood. He breathes a quick sigh as he clasps his hands in front of him on the table.

“So...I’m not one for playing games during these situations. I figure it’s best to be honest with my subject so that they have a chance,”

“A chance to what?”

“To speak while they can,” His words make his presence clear to me

“I see. You’re here to interrogate me,” I say making a rhetorical statement.

Peter’s smile grows on one corner of his mouth as he gives a quick nod to me.

“I always give my subjects the courtesy of talking before I begin my process. So right now, let’s just call our little interaction a friendly conversation between colleagues on opposite sides of the line,”

“And how long does this courtesy last?” I question.

“Until I grow tired of waiting. I feel like I have a rather decent patience level. So, I’ll give you a few minutes. Your time is up however, when I decide to ask my first question. That will be your one and only warning to begin speaking. After which, I will begin my process,”

I notice his mouth twitch in to a wider grin ever so slightly at his words.

I move my eyes around the room simply because I’ve grown tired of looking at him. My mind is already made up. I return my gaze to Peter. I breath a deep sigh, steeling myself for what I expect to come.

“Well...we better get started then,” I say.

For the first time, I see his smile turn to a frown as disappointment paints his face.

He raises an eyebrow “Are you sure this is the path you want to take? I warn you, my process isn’t quick, nor is it painless,”

I simply hold my eyes level to his, saying not another word. Peter closes his eyes for a moment and breathes a deep sigh

“Very well,” He says in acceptance.

When he stands, I’m finally able to register just how large of a man he is. My memory serving me correctly, I notice he’s significantly larger than Dante was. I notice his extremely muscular physique through his dress shirt as it tightens around his chest, shoulders, and arms.

Peter then grabs the metal table and slides it to the right side of the room, almost too easily. His back turned to me, I notice him remove his glasses. He walks over to me as he begins to rolls up his sleeves. It’s then that I notice that his arms aren’t that of flesh, but of cold metal, painted a blackened nickel color, various yellow lights blink and stream throughout them. I’m amazed at the fact that the simulated muscular size of the arms matches his body perfectly.

“Like them? They were cutting edge way back when I got them. I’ve made a number of upgrades over the years,” He says opening and closing his hands as if warming up tendons that aren’t there.

He stares at me intently. “You know, I still haven’t asked my first question. Last chance,” He says as if trying to extend a charity to me.

I simply narrow my eyes at him and scoff.

Peter shrugs “Very well,”

I watch him stretch his shoulders out, hearing his neck pop in the process as he rotates his head.

“What is the project Earth is working on that requires Sekrid relics?” He asks.

A tightness fills my chest as I realize that this is the point of no return.

I look at him “Lieutenant Blake, one-three-five-four-seven-six-nine,” I respond using standard interrogation protocol.

Peter chuckles and shakes his head.

Like a flash of lightning I feel a cold fist strike me across the face, driving my entire body to the left, the sound, a sickening thud of metal against flesh. I feel the chair lift slightly before coming to a sudden halt as it returns to its prior position. I can’t help but breath heavily as I feel the pain radiate through my face. A metallic taste floods my mouth and my right cheek feels hot. I wince, letting the initial nerve-firings subside. As the pain recedes to a dull throbbing, I spit blood to the floor. Peter leans down, placing his hands on his knees, coming to my level.

“That is the first hit of many that will be coming Lieutenant. And I always ensure to hit just that much harder with every refusal,”

He drops to one knee “Please, let us not resort to these uncivilized methods. I prefer to be more of a gentleman about these matters. And I’m sure you do too. There’s no fault in trying to survive. Even if that means giving information you’d rather not,” He says in a tone that sounds convincingly caring.

My breathing steadies and I meet his gaze.

“Lieu...tenant...Blake. One-three-five...four-seven-six-nine,” I manage to spit out.

I see his face turn into obvious frustration as he sighs and stands back up. I hear him let out a slight grunt as another fist strikes me in the gut.

I feel the air rush out of me as the chair I’m in slides back what feels like a few feet. I’m forced to hunch over as I audibly wretch, bile splashing to the floor in front me. I feel the burning in my throat as I continue to cough afterwards, gasping for air.

Peter allows me to regain my composure as if intentionally to prolong the impending torture to come. Time moves by undiscernibly as we continue our merry-go-round of his questions and my same, unwavering answer. He became so frustrated at one point, striking me so hard in my left cheek with an uppercut that the chair slid back five feet before finally tipping over and slamming me to the ground.

The strike dazed me to the point that I could no longer see clearly. In his frustration, Peter stepped away for a few moments, allowing himself to cool down. He then walks behind me, lifting the chair, with me in it, with ease and slides it back to the center of the room.

My vision finally begins to clear and I notice him walk back to his black case. He pulls a rag from the case and wipes his hands. Coating the white fabric crimson, as my blood washes from his hands. Peter places his hands on the table, leaning over it, sweat visibly dripping from his face.

He breathes deep in through his nose, and back out through his mouth.

“You’re an infuriating young man Lieutenant. I’ve never met someone with quite so much persistence,”

I see him pull something indiscernible from the case and place it in his shirt pocket. He returns to me and kneels down in front me, taking my face in his hand, turning it from left to right.

“It seems you have a jaw of steel. Even your orbitals and cheeks managed to withstand breaking. Your nose however is broken. Here, let me fix that,”

I can’t respond before he pinches my nose between both of his thumbs and resets it. I grunt in pain as he continues to adjust it.

“There,” He says before moving his hands to my torso and feeling around.

I wince in pain every time he presses into an area. I feel at this point he’s simply performing this demented triage on me just to place me in more agony.

“Hm...your body didn’t seem to fair as well. You have deep tissue bruising in your abdomen and I’ve seemed to have cracked three of your ribs on the right side. Don’t tighten up next time for future reference. It just causes more damage,” He says patting me on the shoulder as if showing genuine concern.

Peter returns back to his case and begins scrawling notes for the next five minutes. After setting down his pen he turns back to me, a grim expression painting his face.

“I’ve determined that blunt force doesn’t seem to get through to you due to your physical resistance. So, it seems I have to move on to more...barbaric methods, unfortunately,”

“You’re...gonna have to be...more specific than that doc,” Seemingly mocking him.

I see his eyes narrow at my petty comment before regaining his composure.

“As I said, I’m rather honest with my subjects in these situations. So, from this point on, if you do not answer my questions, I will take this,” He says pulling the object out of his pocket, revealing a scalpel blade.

“And I will begin to cut you. I’ve determined that starting with minor wounds will only serve to make you used to the process. So, I will not start with a less effective pain area,”

I chuckle at Peter, visibly smiling “Well look doc, I have prior engagements, so if we could get on with this, the sooner the better,”

I notice him clench his jaw before making his way behind me.

He reaches underneath my chin and yanks my head back. I’m now staring straight up, the grid of lights feeling as bright as the sun, making me squint and sending more waves of pain through my face with the facial movements.

Peter looks down at me “Shall I even try to ask this time?” He asks me, expectant of my answer.

I simply let a scoff out through my nose.

“Very well,” He confirms, placing the scalpel blade on my right cheek.

I feel the blade very nearly sink into my flesh with the simple placement of it on my skin. With an intentional slow pace, Peter begins to pull the blade across my face. White flashes over my vision. I feel as if harnessed fire is being drug over my face as my skin opens and I feel the warmth of blood pours down my cheek, then my nose as he reaches the bridge of it. I feel the blade slip off my skin as he reaches the peak of my nose sending a quick bolt of extra pain as it makes a quick slice through.

“My mistake,” Peter says feigning remorse.

He picks up where he left of on the other side of the bridge of my nose, dragging the blade on the same path in reverse of the right side. My teeth had been clenched the entire time, and I feel as if they’re going to shatter if I tighten my jaw any further.

Peter finally reaches an approximate placement on my cheek where he began on the other side and lifts the blade from my face. He releases me from his grip and I jerk forward.

Though the pain is more intense than anything I have felt before, the relief of Peter ceasing his assault on me feels like a godsend. I’m barely able to open my eyes but from what I do see, blood is nearly streaming like a waterfall from my laceration on to the floor. I feel my hand shaking, as if my body is involuntarily trying to do something, anything to distract me from the pain.

I see Peter’s feet moving away from me. I slowly bring my head up to see him wiping his hands once more on the cloth.

Peter makes a quick sigh. “Your resilience is going to get you killed Lieutenant. Why won’t you just give in?” He asks genuinely confused.

“Because...” I swallow hard, noticing the dryness in my mouth.

“That would mean that you’d win. I won’t...can’t allow that. Monsters have already...already won too much. I can’t let them win anything else. Even...even if you wanted the dirt from my boots to complete your task...I’d do all of...of this all over again. Make no mistake doc...you can parade around as whatever re...refined man you think you are. But in the end, you’re just as gray and ugly as they are,”

Peter studies me for a moment before shaking his head.

“You have yet to understand who the true monsters are,” He says returning to me, scalpel in hand.

My strength gives way, and I allow my head to slump. Letting unconsciousness start to overtake me.

Before Peter can lay his hands on me once more, I hear the door slide open with an oddly familiar voice yelling hysterically at Peter in the Sekrid language.

I can hardlymake out what Peter’s response is as I feel my consciousness fade and thevoices become faraway mumbles as I fall into black.