The Untouchables

Chapter Twenty-nine: Luke

"Please, Lynn." I begged. "Wake up. Please."

I still felt extremely drowsy from the serum injected into me earlier in the day. I was jostled from my dark, dreamless sleep by two guards, yanked up by my shoulders, and tossed into this cell where Lynn was lying helplessly and unconscious on the cold, stone floor.

"Please, please wake up." I tried to shake her awake like the guards did for me, but she still laid limp in my arms, unresponsive.

A cold laugh echoed through the dungeon. A little voice, but a sinister laugh nonetheless. But it was quickly followed by shrill screams and the sounds of machines whirring to life.

"Come on, Lynn." I urged her. "We have to go. Quickly."

No matter what I tried, she just wouldn't wake up.

Wake up.

Please.

The stench of the cell started to invade my nostrils. The odor of rotting flesh, blood, and the metal from the machines made for a disgusting combination of smells, swirling in the air. I tried my best to fight the urge to vomit, and I barely managed to. Barely.

Suddenly, Lynn twitched in my arms as I knelt on the ground holding her

"Wake up." I whispered. "Please."

I expected her eyes to flutter open, and look up at me with her bold, beautiful, blue eyes.

Instead of indulging my unrealistic fantasy, her body started shaking. Clenched fists hitting the ground, legs kicking, and her wings were wildly snapping open and closed, aggressively shoving me backwards.

I felt like I couldn't breathe as I just helplessly watched her convulse on the floor. I never felt like I could cry, I could only recall a select few times I actually did, probably on one hand, but sitting on a cold, stone floor, in a flesh covered dungeon, watching helplessly as the only girl I've ever truly loved seized and convulsed in front of me. I couldn't help it as tears streamed down my face as I begged for it to stop.

I desperately waited for the seizing to stop. It went on for so long, I had to cover my eyes, it was too hard to watch. I pulled my knees into my chest, trying to keep myself together, physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Eventually, her seizing slowed, and came to a stop. Once it did I immediately rushed back over to her, dragging myself on my knees.

I examined the damage the sudden convulsions had done to her. Her knuckles and fists had dark purple bruises on them, the heels on her boots were flattened from impact, and there were some small feathers stuck to the coarse floor, but other than small tears in her shirt sleeves, there weren't any major injuries. Since her head wasn't thrashing against the floor either, I wasn't worried about a brain injury, so that concern left my head.

She was a little more pale and sweaty than she was before, but that was expected. I continued to beg and plead for her to wake up, anything to show consciousness.

Please.

Wake up.

Talk to me.

Open your eyes.

But please, do anything.

Let me know you're ok.

Please.

Anything.

In the middle of my pleas, something banged against the metal bars of the cell. Someone in a black executioner's mask hit the bars with a massive baton to get my attention.