Evenfall (136 page)

The table was empty, a dull silver that shone in the light, but the whites of the walls shifted in his peripheral vision, almost like pictures that pixelated abruptly and turned darker, less clear. For a moment, he thought he was back in the abandoned clinic in Monterrey, standing next to an empty table with only Sin's blood surrounding him to tell the story of what had happened. But when he squeezed his eyes shut then opened them again, the room re-solidified around him; white, stark. Empty.

He looked up at the ceiling again and the room rotated; disorientation rising steadily until for a moment he didn't know what was happening, he didn't even know if he'd actually heard the voice earlier, but at that thought he remembered the words and he shook his head again, placing all his weight on the table.

Fourth. He was on...

His mind was working in confusing ways, strange connections being made while other parts, things he thought were probably very logical, left gaping holes of confusion. The hallway... That's why he'd remembered it, from that video, long ago. When Sin was being transported and he'd attacked the generals... And his mother's parting words, suddenly talking about his recklessness, his safety, things she'd never bothered bringing up before but this time-- Had she actually been trying to warn him? Trying to say he needed to be careful because he was headed to--

The idea of being there frightened him, not knowing what was coming, only knowing it was a place to fear, a place even Sin never wanted to go--

Connors sent him there. Connors sent him but could he be too surprised? Sin had been sent to Fourth several times, this was the way the Agency worked. A person fucked up and they were punished. He'd just... He'd never had to come here and somehow, he'd never thought about himself being sent here. Maybe he'd thought he would never fuck up so much that they'd bring him to Fourth, but... Sin lying bleeding in the box and he'd looked dead, he'd looked dead, he remembered how terrified he'd been and what were they going to do to him, if they sent Sin to the box, then what would the equivalent be for him?

"The drugs will take full effect soon," Shane said calmly. "Once they do, you will be restrained by the guards."

The lights dimmed and Boyd looked around, his heart automatically pounding as the disorientation grew. Shane's words washed over him but he didn't quite comprehend them, couldn't quite understand why his heart was racing even while his mind still tried to slowly interpret what had been said. He could hear a distant whirring noise, like a fan in a machine, and a soft click. Spots of light appeared on the walls one after another, surrounding him until they shone brightly like headlights in the dark. He found himself moving away from the table, turning in a circle as he backed up and the spots of light just emphasized the darker parts between, made it seem hazier, the white fuzzing until--

He thought he heard movement behind him and he turned around suddenly, saw
lo
mαs chingσn
sauntering toward him, his form silhouetted starkly by the trucks behind him. Boyd stared at him in surprise, shook his head once to clear his mind, but
Chingσn
was still there, walking closer as he seemed to be surveying the area. "Goodness. Lose your toy already,
maricone?"
he asked in his usual low drawl, a hint of mocking in his tone.

"Not... a toy," Boyd muttered, but he sounded a little confused and as he squinted through the light at
Chingσn,
he saw his form waver and start to shift, to get a little shorter, a little stockier.

Connors' voice asked flatly, "Or did you just throw it away because you broke it? Was it too much work for you to bother to fix? Did you feel it was better to abandon it altogether?"

"I see no reason to keep something that has broken," Vivienne's voice said coolly from no particular direction. "It is simply a waste of space."

"What--?" Boyd said, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head again. "What's happen...?"

He wavered on his feet, stumbled and almost fell,
caught himself only with a hand on the table and even just the feel of it gave him a strong sense of dιjΰ vu. Fear was eating away at him now, starting at the edges of his perception until it slid into his blood and moved within him freely, completely. He
tried to think clearly, tried to understand what was happening, but every time he tried to make any sort of connection it was as if the tide came in and washed it all away, powerful waves sucking his understanding out to sea where it was lost, tossed in the currents and absolutely gone and he couldn't... He tried to think but he couldn't and it frightened him and he needed to make it stop--

His eyes opened but it was just the room again, bright lights against the walls, a soft clicking but even that seemed a step away from reality, as if nothing was truly real anymore, everything was slowing being eaten by dreams that stayed even while he was awake, that stained his perception and made it impossible to understand what was really there--

"Until then, I have something I want to share with you," Shane said calmly, reasonably, his voice filling the room.

The lights on the wall glowed with an especially vivid, unearthly light that seemed to grow until it eclipsed everything around him. He stared at it, feeling like there was something moving just on the other side, ghostly voices that could almost be heard and then--

Something dark caught his attention, a flash of movement against one wall and he turned toward it. There was something large, a picture displayed across the entire wall and for a moment he was so disoriented that he couldn't even comprehend what it was. Shades of light and dark spread across the wall in a confusing jumble until something in him clicked, something understood he was seeing a body--

His heart lurched and he didn't even hear his strangled intake of breath when he understood what it was, the second he realized-- An autopsy picture focusing on Lou's head and shoulders was spread across the entire wall. Lou was lying against a metal table, his head tilted back and eyes wide open, blank and glazed. His mouth was open, showing where a few front teeth were missing or broken-- 
It'll make it easier for him to give head, they'd laughed, Boyd had tried to get to him but he couldn't make it, he couldn't get away
--

"What?" Boyd didn't even hear his voice, the frightened, lost word, didn't even realize his eyes had widened in horror--

Meat peeled away in chunks at his throat; a stab wound nearly to the spine --
Now you'll keep your mouth shut, won't you?
-- slicing straight through the larynx --
blood had flowed out, his mouth was moving, he'd tried to say something but the words wouldn't come
--

"Wha-- No," Boyd whispered in rising alarm, his heartbeat jolting faster, making the blood rush through his body so quickly he almost felt dizzy, almost felt--

-- overlaid by a gash so deep across that it cut straight through --
Say goodbye
-- his throat was ripped open from Jared's knife, the grotesque wound clearly visible now that the blood was gone --
I want you to remember this forever --

Shaking, his hand was shaking against the floor and when had he fallen to his knees, when had he lost his balance? Lou's face, too large for him to look away and he was dead, he was dead, the blood was gone now so he could see clearly every wound and he still remembered the spray of blood-- "Oh God--"

The soft whirring and another click, another flash of black that he shouldn't have looked at but his mind was not working correctly and he did anyway--

Incisions neatly made across a chest he'd once touched --
fucking stop it, Boyd, that tickles, I'm serious --
and the skin was pulled back, pale pink beneath the layer of skin and muscles and beneath were Lou's organs in perfect view, his ribs cracked and cut straight through --
Next time pick a fuckbuddy
--

"--no, Jesus fucking--"

--
who can actually back up his fucking mouth --
into his heart, the wound a gaping hole --

"Christ--!"

Soft whirring and a click and he told himself not to look, he tried not to, but the room spun around him alarmingly and he meant to just slouch forward, meant to bring his hands to his head to make the world make sense again but when he opened his eyes he was staring at the wall.

He couldn't control anything correctly, tried to look toward the table, to pull himself up, maybe to get away from the image-- But when he opened his eyes (when had he closed them again?) he saw the floor. Close, tilted at an odd angle, the bright white blurring closer to his vision and it wasn't until he saw the picture at an angle on the distant wall that he realized he'd fallen on his side. He tried to push himself back up, tried to turn away from the wall with the new picture, but his body wouldn't listen--

A shot of Lou's overall body was vividly colored against the white, the picture taken before they'd pulled his skin up. A stab wound to the heart --
the hilt had been the only thing he could see after Jared slammed the knife into him
-- and three scattered across the stomach --

"No!" he cried out desperately, "Stop it,
please!"

"I'm afraid that is not possible, Boyd. You must be shown the error--" Another flash, another image, but this time it was of Sin. "--of your ways. The way your actions and lack of actions harm the ones you care most about. In the past you lacked the skills to save the one you loved but in the present you have the skills and still failed to act."

With the blood cleared away, the wounds were especially visible. Sin was lying on his back, arms at his sides, naked so the extent of his injuries could be seen --

"Oh God," Boyd groaned helplessly, tears gathering in his eyes as he tried to look away but couldn't get his head to shift, couldn't even seem to make his eyes stay closed --

Burn marks and lacerations covered him, looking deep and agonizing, scattered across his body mercilessly but the worst part was his arms --
fingers ghosting up Boyd's thigh, a gentle touch despite how strong he was --
and legs, the obvious damage from the stretching resulting in the familiar form of his limbs being lost, twisted --
the woman in the picture had her head thrown back, she looked like she was screaming but Boyd just flipped the page, saw on the next page a man and he was screaming too, his face was twisted in agony, it morphed and looked like
-- Sin's arms and legs were broken, he could see the bone showing through the deep, dual incisions --
Harriet leaned forward, the needle moving in and out steadily as Boyd struggled to get back there, Kassian's expression as he tried to revive Sin and Harriet's voice, "Kassian, he's dead. Just st--"

"No!" Boyd yelled, tears blurring the picture as he tried to force his body to move but couldn't, the room was a fuzzy mess around him but somehow the pictures were entirely in focus, somehow everything on them was perfectly visible --

--Sin's body was pale and lifeless beneath the bruises, the chest and stomach Boyd had run his hands along so many times --
Don't leave me like this, Sin, let me be with you, please
-- now nearly unrecognizable beneath the deep shades of black and purple --
Do you like me touching you?
-- that were overcoming him, even his face, making it hard to see --
his expression was strange; raw and beautiful and there were so many emotions that he couldn't pick even a single one out --
the exact wounds, but it was clear he'd been through hell, clear that he'd suffered --
Why? -- Because I trust you... because we're partners
-- and the lifeless slump of his body made him look dead --
If this gets you caught --

"Fuck-- No--" Boyd barely heard his voice twisting desperately, a step away from reality and mingling with the voices and memories he could feel too well --

-- you fucking deserve it --

"No," he shouted, fear and pain mingling into a plea. "Please, oh God, I won't do it again, I promise, just-- let me go, please--"

"I'm afraid that is not possible at the present time," Shane said calmly. His senses were skewed, some taking longer to translate in his mind before others. He heard the door opening at the same time he realized there were feet in front of his eyes. He told himself to fight them, to break free and sprint out the open door but all he could do was stare blearily at the hallway -- it seemed so distant, miles away, not just the few feet he'd easily walked earlier but now there was no chance he'd make it -- hands grabbed his arms and pulled him up -- the room nearly turned on end,
white on white on white
with the photos in vivid, grotesque color spinning around him and then he was standing but they were holding him and if they let go he'd fall to the ground. He was halfway across the room and he looked to his sides -- every time he blinked it was so slow, it was like an eternity between one image and the next -- there were four guards in a circle around him, holding him tightly between them as they brought him across the room--

The table was getting closer and only then did he actually look at it fully, only then did he see the heavy manacles welded into metal and he realized what they intended --