| Chapter 17 Morning. Anders stood in the torture room, staring out the window at the sunshine. It would be a hot day, a scorcher. The sun was already up, the bright yellow surrounded by a flame of orange. Flames of heat. Shuddering, the young man blinked. He wasn’t seeing the green grass, the blue sky, the trees blowing with the hot wind, only the sun beating down on the ground. The room he stood in was hot and airless, but that was Faison’s plan. He wasn’t about to argue, not right now. He braced himself, knowing what was coming. Walking over to the table, he looked at the empty tray which had held a breakfast of dry toast, and coffee, and the medication that would dull his pain as Faison taught Lucky and Emily the final lesson, who they could trust and who they must obey. He didn’t care about Lucky. Emily on the other hand would keep him strong. He would think only of her through the moments to come. He had been through worse. His father had taught him courage wasn’t in looking for danger, but in outwitting it, and surviving any torture that could be dealt to him. He knocked on the door. The two guards in their officer’s uniforms came in to the room. “Mr. Anders?” the one guard inquired minding his manners. “It’s time,” Anders snapped. The guard nodded. Anders walked between the two men willingly. He allowed them to shackle him to the wall, much as Lucky had been. His ankles were also chained. The shackles were pulled so that Ander’s hung, his toes just reaching the hard hot floor. One of the guards tore off his shirt so that it hung in tatters about him. The other took off his socks and shoes. Only the pair of blue slacks covered the rest of him. “It won’t be long, Mr. Anders,’ the guard assured him. “I’ll inform Mr. Faison that you are ready.” “Do that,” Anders replied. The two guards turned and walked away, slamming the door behind them. He could almost laugh at the man who had just left. He must think Anders was as certifiable as his father. Maybe he was. Anders remembered the first time he had been chained in this room. Unconsciously he shivered. He was being punished. He knew better than anyone how Lucky felt to have all his self esteem and courage deleted from him as if erased from a computer. He understood every day what it was like to be completely at his father’s mercy. Lucky thought he had it bad. This exercise in obedience was just the tip of the iceberg for Faison. Just the tip. “Do your worst, Father,” Anders whispered as he prepared himself. The medication Anders took was starting to take effect. His eyes grew glazed. His legs and body grew numb. His feet went out beneath him. He faced the door, appearing to have been shackled all night long. Inside, Anders was fully aware. Each moment was real. He could feel the satisfaction within. His father was actually keeping him from harm this time, but in the end, Faison would want Anders to grovel, to be his pet every bit as much as lucky. The truth was, Faison wasn’t going to win against Anders. His plan was far more involved, even diabolical, especially for getting Emily and his revenge on Faison. As his pulse slowed, and his body gave into the numbing drug, Anders was certain their show would finally convince Lucky and Emily that he was on their side. Then Anders could use Lucky and Emily in his plot, the plot Faison had no idea even existed, the plot that would finally bring Anders his hearts desire, the death of Cesar Faison. * * * * * Emily’s lips were on fire with desire for Lucky. They lingered, the two friends finding the passion and desire they craved, they needed. Lucky’s hands stroked Emily’s back. For a second they weren’t in a bathroom in a prison. They were quite alone, enthralled only with the moment. Emily moaned as she felt Lucky’s touch on her behind, drawing her toward him. She could feel him, his yearning growing with each passing second. He wanted her. She knew he did, as much as she wanted him. As their kiss evaporated, Emily leaned to whisper in Lucky’s ear. “I love you, Lucky. I need you.” Leaning back against the bathroom wall, Lucky felt the heat rising within himself. Emily. Brave, beautiful Emily. Her face was angelic, her voice a melody of music to his shattered mind. The ache to let her know she was a delicate prize to cherish to love forever, was overwhelming. With a cry of anguish, he pulled away, his hands gripping the sink, his face staring at him from the mirror. The empty Lucky, the coward, Lucky, the dog who had become Faison’s pet. “Lucky?” Em’s voice cried urgently. “Lucky, please.” “I can’t, Emily. I can’t!” came the ravaged cry. “Oh God forgive me.” Lucky brushed past Emily into their ornate prison. He sat down on the bed, his head in his hands, sobbing helplessly. Emily hurried after him. “What is it?” She begged. “Please, Lucky, tell me!” Emily’s own urgings were slowly abating, but she could still feel the intensity of Lucky’s emotions. She knelt in front of him in her white nightgown, her long brown hair flowing about slender shoulders. Gently, the young woman pried Lucky’s hands apart. He couldn’t help but look at her. “It’s okay,” She assured him. “I promise.” “Emily!” Lucky objected in disbelief. “Look around you. Look where we are! Look at me! It’s not okay. I’m nothing better than a coward. I gave into Faison. I don’t deserve you. I could never deserve you, not after what I did.” “That’s not true. You saved my life. You gave into Faison to save me, nothing more. He didn’t break you, Lucky. You’re still the same Lucky I’ve always known and loved.” “I’m not!” Lucky exclaimed. He jumped up suddenly, throwing Emily backwards. She cried out in pain. “See, I told you,” Lucky roared in complete frustration. Emily wasn’t cowed. She had seen Lucky like this before, when he found out about his mother’s rape, after his return from Faison the first time. Lucky always wanted to be the best, the most gentlemanly. The fact he couldn’t be was galling him. “I won’t let you blame yourself,” She told him gently. “I won’t.” Lucky shook his head in disbelief. His hands shook with suppressed rage. His mind was flooded with demeaning thoughts of himself. He sank to his knees on the floor. Curling into a ball before the horrified Emily, he cried anew. Emily bent over him. “Lucky?” She questioned. “Lucky talk to me!” Her voice became urgent, and laced with fear for her friend. “Let me go,” Lucky whispered. “I’m not who you think I am anymore.” Emily sat down on the floor. She gathered the incoharant young man into her arms. He moaned at her touch, but didn’t break free. He let her hold him, his head next to her breasts. She rocked back and forth in a slow comforting motion. “I won’t let them have you, Lucky. I won’t,” Emily said fiercely. Lucky didn’t reply. His sobs abated. He was quiet, but he didn’t reply. The world shrunk to the three feet around them, the stillness, the beating of their hearts, the torture of their souls. They were trapped, and nothing was going to save them. Nothing at all. The door opening made Emily jump. Lucky sprang to his feet to stand in front of her. His own instincts took over in a millisecond. Emily didn’t move. “Well, well, Lucky. Still trying to protect, Emily?” Faison taunted coming into the room with his two best guards. Lucky didn’t reply. He merely stood his ground. Faison nodded to the guards. “Take him. Emily. I assume you will follow? It’s time for my son’s comupence. If he has any sense, he will let me deal with you and Lucky in the future. You will witness his punishment.” “No!” Lucky cried. “No more punishment.” The two guards came forward and took him by the arms. Lucky looked over his shoulder at Emily who stood up as if she had a hundred pound boulder on her shoulder. She looked crushed. “Emily!” “I’m coming, Lucky,” Emily whispered as Faison took her by the arm, and pulled her roughly after the group. “I’m coming.” * * * * * “What do you want with me,” Nikolas demanded of his father. They sat in the limousine, Nikolas face leary and cautious, Stavros’ grinning and complacent. The older man only resembled the pictures Nikolas had seen. Yet he was his father. “I want to help you, of course,” Stavros said. Sitting in the spacious Limo with the black leather interior, and the wide seats, Nikolas leaned forward. “You can help me by letting me out of here,” He hissed. “I thought you might want to find your brother. Perhaps I was mistaken.” Stavros sat back on the chair, crossing his legs in expectation. His sardonic smile was irritating, especially in a man who had to be at least sixty years old. “Lucky? You know about Lucky?” “Nikolas,” Stavros laughed. “I may have been dead to you since you were a baby, but I know everything about you. I have my sources.'' “Figures,” came the sullen reply. “Now, now, Son!” “Don’t!” Nikolas yelled ferociously. “Don’t call me that. You have no right. You’ve never been a father to me. You may think you know me, but you haven’t a clue as to how I tick.” “An eloquent speech,” Stavros observed, so like Stefan that Nikolas almost choked. “What do you want?” Nikolas demanded wearily. “Gia is probably freaking out about me. Surely you aren’t going to kidnap me? You said something about Lucky? Where is he? Tell me!” “I’m not at liberty to say where Lucky is. Suffice to say, I have located him.” “What?” Nikolas gasped. “And Emily?” “And Emily.” “Does Helena have them?” “Not anymore. Helena has been delivered to er…shall we say her just desserts.” “Just desserts? You talk in riddles, Father,” Nikolas added the last word sarcastically. “You will show me respect, Nikolas. I may not be the father you always wanted, but the fact remains, I am your sire.” “Like a horse?” Stavros’ slap was hard and quick. Nikolas’ hand went to his face in shock. “How dare you?” “You speak as though you have no respect for anyone, Nikolas. I loved your mother more than anything in the world. To compare our love to a horse in heat is a bold insult. You will apologize.” “I will not!” Stavros hand grabbed Nikolas about the wrist. Nikolas tried to pull away. Stavros’ grey eyes met his son’s. Nikolas saw the Cassidine strength, the Cassidine cruelty, the Cassidine demand for worship. He looked away. “I apologize,” He muttered pulling his hand angrily away. “Good,” Stavros said. “If you know where Lucky is, take me to him. If Helena doesn’t have him, it can mean only one thing.” “Which is?” Stavros asked knowingly. “That Faison has him, and that he is in trouble.” “You are wise, my son. I will give you that. You are correct. Faison does have Lucky…” At that moment, a pounding on the limousine door made Nikolas jump. Calmly, Stavros opened the door. Gia stuck her brown head into the car. “God, Nikolas. Here you are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere? What’s going on?” Gia looked at Stavros, not recognizing him. “What do you want with Nikolas. You can’t keep him. Let him go.” Stavros smiled at the girl’s vulgarity. He looked at Nikolas. “My son? Which shall it be? Will you stay or go? Will you save your brother or let him die at the hands of a man who would sooner torture Lucky to death than let him go free?” Nikolas looked from Gia to Stavros. He shook his head and looked up to the heavens. What a quandry he thought. * * * * * The guards threw Lucky into the dungeon where Anders was shackled. He fell to the floor, his body reeling in pain, as Faison came into the room with Emily. Emily was held firmly by Faison. He pushed her down into a chair. Quickly he grabbed some rope from the table where Anders’ breakfast tray still sat. He tied Emily’s hands to the chair. “You don’t have to do that!” Emily cried. “But I do. When you witness Anders’ and Lucky’s punishment…” “Lucky? But he’s done nothing!” Emily object. Lucky was pulled up off the floor, and dragged to stand only feet from Anders. Lucky stood, pulling on every ounce of courage he had. He stared at Anders who hadn’t moved since they had come in. He appeared to be unconscious, his head lolling forward, his feet barely touching the ground. To Lucky, he had been hanging there all night. He could not stomach Faison’s cruelty to his own son, but he dared say nothing in Anders’ defense. He was shaking, wondering what Faison planned to do with him. “Well, Emily. I suppose you are right. But just the same, Lucky will be the first to bear the torture, so he knows that no one, not even my son is immune to my power.” “He knows your power!” Emily objected. “Haven’t you shown us time and again. Leave him alone.” “You are such a valiant little fighter, Emily,” Faison said. His touch on Emily’s cheek made her draw back. An animalistic growl came from Anders. “You are a monster, Father. Leave her alone.” Lucky watched as Anders head shot up in sudden defense of Emily. Anders eyes were bloodshot, his face white with apparent fatigue. “You still have learned nothing, have you Anders?” Faison asked. “You still defy me. I will never understand the younger generation. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.” Anders didn’t reply. He acted as though his head were too heavy to hold up. For a moment, his gaze rested on Emily. Her face filled with pity for him, just as he wanted. As his head went back down to his chest, Emily missed the smirk on his face. She was falling for his agonized routine, hook, line and sinker. And she hadn’t seen anything yet. Emily watched in dawning horror as Lucky was chained to the wall next to Anders. She wanted to close her eyes and scream as the sounds of Lucky’s shirt being ripped off him reached her ears. The chains being locked around his wrists and feet snapped through her mind with a crushing clang. “Faison, what do you want?” Lucky demanded trying to maintain some dignity. Faison smiled that evil, sadistic smile. He stood in front of Lucky, his fingers clawing across Lucky’s face, almost scratching him. “You don’t ask questions, Lucky. Remember, you are my pet.” “Not when you plan to hurt me. That’s what you’re planning isn’t it? I have a right to defend myself.” “You have NO RIGHTS!” Faison yelled. “You are subhuman. One more word from you, and Emily will join you.” “Shut up,” Anders mumbled. “Don’t make it worse.” Lucky clamped his lips together, but his eyes still blasted with blue lightening. Faison was angry. He hadn’t beaten the boy down. Not as much as he had thought. He couldn’t stop himself from punching Lucky in the stomach. Emily’s gasp was as audible as Lucky’s as he tried to breath above the pain and shock of the punch. He couldn’t bend forward. He couldn’t even hold his hands over his stomach since they were pulled upward. “You will learn your lesson, young Spencer,” Faison growled, his eyes hot with rage. He nodded to one of the guards. The guard went behind Lucky and Anders. He removed a block of concrete in the dank wall. Emily couldn't seen beyond Lucky and Anders. Only Faison could. Lucky and Anders could hear the scrapping of the concrete. The guard put the 2 foot by 2 foot block down on the ground. Emily’s heartbeat quickened, knowing something terrible was coming. While they waited, Faison pulled Anders chin up so his son was looking at him. “It’s time, Anders. We’ve been here before, haven’t we?” Anders looked mutinously at his father. “Good. Silence is better than saying something stupid.” He let Anders go, and his head lopped forward again, as if in exhaustion. Lucky, whose wrists were already aching from his hanging body held his head up, but his lips quivered. His hands shook. Faison came to stand before him. “You will surrender to me, Lucky. The section of wall that was removed has been replaced with my own unique invention. Anders is familiar with its particularly nasty ramifications. Now, it is time to acquaint you. I promise it will be like nothing you have ever felt before.” Faison’s laugh, triumphant and fiendish ended abruptly as he viciously pushed Lucky’s body back against the wall. The pain was immediate. Lucky’s cry was far worse than anything Emily had ever heard. “STOOPPPPPPPPPPPP! Oh, God!” Lucky’s struggled against Faison’s grip on his waist. His mind could barely assimilate the igniting fire that consumed his back from the scapula all the way down to his waist. He was being flayed alive! He knew it. “Say it, Lucky! Who is in control?” Faison hissed. Lucky didn’t hesitate. His body twitched now, too weak to fight further. The burning continued, as though fire were consuming all the skin on his back in the slowest manner posssible, as if he were tied to a stack and the flames were licking at him devouring his skin down to the bone. Lucky’s blue eyes shut in complete and utter devastation. “You are!” He screamed. “YOU ARE!” “You will never talk back to me again, will you?” Faison demanded happily. Lucky didn’t reply. He was in hell. This was hell with the hot fire, with the shrieking in his brain, the urge to go insane with pain. Faison held him against the wall, against the flat poker that used the red hot heat to bring him forever to his knees. “Will you?” Lucky fainted. Faison groaned in disappointment. He let the boy go. Emily, the tears falling down her cheeks was rubbing her wrists raw trying to get to Lucky, to stop Faison. Anders watched her, jealous of her desire to save her friend. He looked up as Faison turned to him. “Anders, it really does pain me to do this,’ Faison told his son. “But you must learn to obey me.” Once again, Faison grabbed a young man about the waist. He pushed Anders at a slight angle, so that the heat was lower on his body, from his mid back to his buttock. But the pain was the same, and Anders own screams were immediate. “OHHHHHHHHH!” He yelled on a high pitched level. His pain was dulled by the medication, but he could recall the deafening roar he always felt in his head, the searing of his flesh by the 2 foot x 2 foot flat poker that his father had specifically designed for the ultimate torture. He could feel his skin turn to mush as the poker was applied. “Stop it!” Emily cried out. “For the love of God!” Anders’ body went limp as Emily spoke. Faison let him go as well. But the poker remained. Emily still hadn’t seen it, the red hot poker. But she could smell the burning flesh. Her nose wrinkled in pity. To her shock, Faison took several steps towards her. He held out his hand. A syringe was placed in it. “Now, it is your turn, Emily,” Faison told her. “You didn’t think I had forgotten you, did you?” “You’re killing us!” Emily cried. “How can you do this?” “I promise, you will not die. The game is not yet complete,” Faison said. He bent down and kissed Emily full on the lips. She spit into his face for his trouble. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Faison wiped the spittle away. “That will cost you my dear,” Emily was defiant as the white sleeve of her nightgown was raised by Faison himself. Without using an alcohol pad, he injected his medication into her white skin. Throwing the syringe on the floor in disgust, he untied the ropes that held her. In a flash, she was across the room, trying to revive Lucky. “Lucky?” Emily cried. “Lucky, answer me.” Lucky was starting to come around. He groaned in extreme pain. Emily, frightened, but knowing she had to see, looked around her friend to see the flat poker that raged with fire. Then she looked at Lucky’s back. She shook her head in disbelief. Lucky was just waking as Emily turned back to Faison. “You SADISTIC Son of a B****” She screamed. The world was turning dark for Emily. The dizziness started from the floor. She looked down at her hands that seemed to inflate all by themselves. She fell to her knees, unable to stand. Faison stood over her. “Death is such a sweet reward,” He told her as her heart slowed to an impossible rate. Her circulation slowed as well. Emily's tongue grew thick. She tried to speak, but couldn't. She grabbed her throat in an effort to get air. She felt as though the life was being choked out of her. Her terror was lost in her fight to live, but in a second, there was no more strength, no more fight. She lost, just as Faison planned. Falling forward, the heat from the floor slammed into Emily's gentle face. Then she knew nothing more, except for the whisper of the devil in her ear. His voice sent chills through her soul as she gave into what she was sure was her last breath. The words echoed over and over and over and over. “and death is just what you deserve.” |