Boundless

Of Beauty and Dangerous Things

Ah'kaedh recognized the place instantly - the polymer the oomans used to cover those walls was of whiteish shade, making the space inside his enclosure unwelcoming and unnatural.

(Memories that would follow him to the grave).

At first, he found it irritating, then oppressive, then dull, then nauseating. Four decades ago, painting that sterile environment in blood red did more for his psyche than offer him some measure of satisfaction resulting from revenge- the scenario change also helped.

And today, the Hunter was back there, alone. Drowning in deafening silence.

But not for long.

A group of scientists, all covered in white garments, carted a new specimen in. There were holes and implants on each side of its neck, neuro inhibitors. The victim also had physical restraints strapped on each limb for good measure.

Sentient subjects were among the most dangerous assets inside a lab.

Especially that one ooman - she would end up wiping the entire place. But that would come later.

Now she was a prisoner, restrained in an operating table, hooked to medical equipment, naked, exposed, defenseless.

And utterly afraid.

The creamy skin, gray gaze, golden locks, and... that voice. A distant part of him screamed that he knew that voice - they knew that voice (the screams ricocheting inside those walls... were destroying him). The dreaming mind split in two, and one Ah'kaedh was watching from above while the other simply carried on.

The Hunter in the enclosure hesitated for a second, but the scene dragged the attention of both Yautjas back to the creature, the ooman... it was begging.

(Paya be merciful, that voice was clawing at his guts, turning his innards into a bloody, pained pudding).

Soon the woman would learn there was no begging, no pleading, no nothing - nothing would be enough to avoid what was coming next.

The ooman was now strapped at the operating theater in the center of the enclosure. Electrodes and sensors being placed and pinned in its skin.

Ah'kaedh approached it from behind its head, by the left. He didn't need any instruments - sharp claws would suffice.

***

Ah'kaedh woke up with a jolt, both hearts hammering against his rib cage to complete darkness.

Momentarily lost, the Enforcer tried to situate himself, his scrambled mind fighting off the heavy fog the nightmare left behind.

He could register Lance's warmth but not her scent - something that reminded him of her, heavily mixed with fucking saline solution.

Saline solution. How often his Girl had not used it on him; to clean infected wounds, hooking it directly on his veins to improve hydration or carry some medication...

Where the hell am I?

"Hmmm," a soft hum could be heard, flooding Ah'kaedh's being with relief. His mind could finally be sure to whom the source of warmth sprawled over his dorso belonged.

"Ah'kaedh... it's tight", his Girl spoke in a tiny and strangled voice - at once, the Enforcer noticed how his right arm and hand had been pressing her body against his, in reflexive protectiveness.

Horrid nightmares plagued the Enforcer since Lar'jar placed Lance in the recovery yard, but tonight was the first time he dreamed of Seizei; a dream in which Ah'kaedh was the torturer, and Lance was the one subjected to the inhumanities endured by him.