Were-Geek

10.)

1.

Logan looked down, refusing to succumb to the panic he felt inside. "Tell James to go back," he shouted over the roar of the spinning coptor blades.

"We can't," was Amy's reply, "look at Luke. We have to get him to Sfin."

Logan cursed loudly as the figures descending on El became to far away to properly see. He kept seeing the red dot appear on her chest, kept seeing her jerk backwards and dissapear out the side of the coptor. He should have acted faster. He should have shoved her out of the way, who knew how many times he had done it for the others. Why hadn't he been able to do it for El?

He gritted his teeth and leaned back inside. It was going to be a long ride back to base. Speaking of which, El knew where it was. Surely they were going to torture her for information.

Logan hoped she was smart enough not to tell them. Smart enough and strong enough to hold out from whatever they did to her until they got there to rescue her. He thought of the tracking chip Sfin had put on her. "Hold on El," he whispered.

2.

"Let's take a moment of silence for our missing comrade," Mr. Neeson bowed his head, the hand holding the microphone fell to his side. The crowd quited. Not a person whispered. Not a baby cried. Mia herself was not quite so sure she would be able to save her tears for her pillow at the end of the night.

The rest of the bands greif was palpable as they stood on the field and Mia thought that was what truly shut the crowd up. The other band, squatting behind the metal benches on the edge of the field all had their heads lowered appreciatively. Somewhere in the crowd El's parents met her eyes and they filled with tears. Mia quickly looked away or else she wouldn't be able to see to march.

"Thank you, tonights show is especially special and we would appreciate it if you thought of our lost El as we perform." Mr. Neeson handed the microphone down to the field commander who gave it to the mic person.

Mia took a deep breath, clearing her mind and raising her head up high, the way El always expected of her. The whistle sounded and her trumpet snapped up, perfectly parallel with the dark horizon.

The first two songs were long, slow and sad. But the third, for the third, halfway through Mia came forward. She clicked the trumpet mic on and inhaled deeply. Then she poured her heart and soul into her solo. At the end she let her trumpet fall to her side and she sobbed freely and fell to her knees.

The band moved forward, swelling to surround her, and when they moved back Mia was gone, once again part of the one entity. One band. One family. A family that was not complete without her soul sister. Oh El.

3.

I woke, hanging from my wrists, my butt bounced against brick, my toes barely skimmed the ground. I looked around, my shoulders were numb and I couldn't feel my arms. It was lit enought for me to see that the room was empty except for me and the shackles on the walls. Windowless walls, huge brick. Exactly as you would imagine a dungeon or mideval holding cell would look like.

So, where the hell was I?

Had I gone back in time? I'd read too many books to completely rule out that theory.

My thoughts went everywhere as I hung there for what felt like forever. I imagined being rescued, breaking free and escaping. I imagined bowls of ice-cream or being able to move my hands or feel them. Though if I could feel them they would probably hurt like crap. But most of all I saw my parents and Mia. I promised myself I would make contact as soon as I got out of this. If I got out of this.

There was the unmistakable creak of a door opening and then the room was flooded with light. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to whimper.

There were some clicks and the sound of someone moving around but I still didn't open my eyes, afraid of what I would see.

Suddenly a hand on my chin forced my head up and my eyes snapped reflexively open. The face of the man who had pistol whipped me hovered in front of me and I became increasingly aware of my headache.

He didn't waste time with introductions or theatrics. He got right down to brass tacks and for that I was almost grateful. Almost. Close but no cigar.

He stepped away, folding his hands over his flat stomach. "We want to recieve some information from you and we are prepared to use any methods of pursuasion," he met my eyes.

I swallowed thickly, I had read enough books and seen enough movies to know that meant he was going to torture me.

4.

"Oh no, we know where The Hunter base is. Have known for years. We've just been waiting for the perfect person to steal," he drew a sharp fingernail down my cheek, digging it in and drawing blood.

I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me squirm. I remained emotionless, impassive and sarcastic. Easy, being a teenage girl.

"So, what do you want?" I made myself sound bored, as if I didn't care about his answer and was only speaking because I was bored and had nothing better to do. The opposite of course was true. My heart raced, I sweated profusely, my breathing was hard to control.

The man stepped back, scrutinizing me with narrowed eyes. "That causes crows feet," I smirked.

He ignored me, "A vault. We want a vault of souls, demon souls, to make an army to bring destruction to the human race," he said this nonchalantly. As if he knew I would never have the chance to tell anyone. I feared for my life.

"Now tell me where it is," he commanded.

I frowned, "But, I don't know-"

He grinned and raised his hand, snapping his fingers. The door opened again and a man came in, pushing a rolling table with a big mechanism squatting intimidatingly on the top. "I won't lie," he said, taking the table from the creepy thin man who then left, " I was sort of hoping you would say that."

He pushed it forward and my heart rate sped up. He put an electrode on my chest and the sound of my frantic heartbeat filled the room. "Ah, so you are scared."

He hooked a few things to me that looked like jumper cables for cars. He smiled at me and I looked at him with fear filled eyes. Then he threw the switch.

5.

Numerous electrocutions and screams later he sighed and leaned back, crossing his arms and acting like he had been the one to suffer.

I panted, throat raw and bleeding. He clucked his tongue at me and pulled a box from his pocket. From it he removed a syringe filled with a thick silver liquid. I wondered what it was.

"Pure liquified silver," he said, answering my unasked question and looking at the thing with admiration. "I shouldn't have to tell you its effects on your body." He gestured to my manacles.

"You have five minutes to decide if you want to tell us or not," he set the syringe on the table for me to look at and left.

I was left with my thoughts and after a few thoughts of self-pity I remembered the small box that I had seen hanging from a chain at Lees throat during our first mission. Could that be...? No, it didn't matter because I wasn't telling.

6.

Too soon the man returned, greeting me by slamming his fist into my face. My jaw made a strange cracking noise and then I could no longer feel the right side of my face.

"Oops," he said and shrugged, picking up the syringe and tapping it. He ostentatiously poised the needle over my neck, "last chance," he said, tilting his head at me. Waiting for me to tell him I was ready to die.