Memory Drabbles
Feb. 7th, 2016 09:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nonsurvivorCAGE
It's not the first time he has been hunted down and caught. So he knows as his car rolls--this car he's risked everything to restore--that he is damned. And that he has lost, again.
He tastes blood in his mouth but he isn't sure if it's his or if it's just the leftover lizard flavor clinging to his tongue. He can't stand, and so he crawls, trying to crawl his way away from his hunters. A heavy black boot kicks him in the ribs, knocking him over, and he curls up to protect his stomach. If he can't escape right now, he's at least not going to throw up the only nourishment he's had all week.
The war boys tie him up when he thrashes, and so Max bites, and no matter how they hit him he keeps biting every piece of living person he can reach. They throw him into the cabin of one of the patrol cars, and it's so cramped that he has his pick of where to sink in his teeth. The war boys are tough; it's not much of a problem for them until Max bites off someone's finger.
After that, they scrounge up something to gag him with.
"He's crazy! Totally feral," one growls, when they get to Citadel. Never mind that they're the ones painted like corpses, while Max is wearing a genuine cop jacket--which they strip off of him as he howls and kicks.
Next is a nightmare version of a doctor. Max's teeth are counted. His eyes are tested. Then they give him water, and more water, and more--until they force him to piss in a bucket so they can test if his kidneys are damaged. They test his blood and are elated at what they find.
They check his bad leg, and his good one. They check to see if he has been castrated in any way, and the organic mechanic declares him "in tact", an ominous statement in a city that clearly needs new breeders.
The nine fingered war boy comes in and has his wound cauterized, and it's decided Max will be "muzzled" at all times.
And then they tattoo all of this on his back, and when they try to brand a symbol on him with a white-hot iron, Max manages to kick his way free. He runs with hordes of war boys after him--but it means running through his ghosts, who leap and grab and scream at him, startling him so badly that twice he is caught again.
His last bid for freedom is a leap off of a cliff, in the hopes that he can grab hold of a hook with his still-shackled hands. And he does; and seconds later he is hauled back inside anyway, and suffocated with a long strip of yellow plastic.
He wakes in a cage too small to stand or turn around in. He wakes up as a living blood bag, waiting to be sucked dry.
It's not the first time he has been hunted down and caught. So he knows as his car rolls--this car he's risked everything to restore--that he is damned. And that he has lost, again.
He tastes blood in his mouth but he isn't sure if it's his or if it's just the leftover lizard flavor clinging to his tongue. He can't stand, and so he crawls, trying to crawl his way away from his hunters. A heavy black boot kicks him in the ribs, knocking him over, and he curls up to protect his stomach. If he can't escape right now, he's at least not going to throw up the only nourishment he's had all week.
The war boys tie him up when he thrashes, and so Max bites, and no matter how they hit him he keeps biting every piece of living person he can reach. They throw him into the cabin of one of the patrol cars, and it's so cramped that he has his pick of where to sink in his teeth. The war boys are tough; it's not much of a problem for them until Max bites off someone's finger.
After that, they scrounge up something to gag him with.
"He's crazy! Totally feral," one growls, when they get to Citadel. Never mind that they're the ones painted like corpses, while Max is wearing a genuine cop jacket--which they strip off of him as he howls and kicks.
Next is a nightmare version of a doctor. Max's teeth are counted. His eyes are tested. Then they give him water, and more water, and more--until they force him to piss in a bucket so they can test if his kidneys are damaged. They test his blood and are elated at what they find.
They check his bad leg, and his good one. They check to see if he has been castrated in any way, and the organic mechanic declares him "in tact", an ominous statement in a city that clearly needs new breeders.
The nine fingered war boy comes in and has his wound cauterized, and it's decided Max will be "muzzled" at all times.
And then they tattoo all of this on his back, and when they try to brand a symbol on him with a white-hot iron, Max manages to kick his way free. He runs with hordes of war boys after him--but it means running through his ghosts, who leap and grab and scream at him, startling him so badly that twice he is caught again.
His last bid for freedom is a leap off of a cliff, in the hopes that he can grab hold of a hook with his still-shackled hands. And he does; and seconds later he is hauled back inside anyway, and suffocated with a long strip of yellow plastic.
He wakes in a cage too small to stand or turn around in. He wakes up as a living blood bag, waiting to be sucked dry.
