Shattered (Sequel to Shadowfax)

Breakout

                  

A/N Man, you guys are gonna wanna kick my a- LANGUAGE -butt after this.

Three days ago...

Jade thrashed in her guards' arms, teeth gnashing as she struggled to free herself from their iron grips. A power-dampener collar was locked around her neck, preventing another episode like Sphinx and Jax's escape. One of the guards—a survivor from the breakout—vengefully jabbed her in the back with his electric baton, and her body shuddered as lightning lit up every nerve. She fell limp into her captors' grasp.

Watching through half-lidded eyes as she was dragged through a series of identical white corridors, Jade's eyes widened in horror as she was brought to a familiar doorway; Viktor Korsakov's office. Her limbs twitched as she strained to pull away.

The man was, for lack of a better term, a sadist in every sense of the word. A skilled interrogator recruited directly out of the KGB, he'd gleaned a reputation for his unique flair for inflicting excruciating pain. Someone who knew his way around a blade, he'd painted entire rooms red with the blood of many. Thanks to her extensive history with Korsakov, Jade could personally vouch for the man's skill. Next to the Professor, the Russian was the most prominent figure in her nightmares. As the door to his office opened, Jade bit back a scream.

Korsakov was exactly as she remembered him. Standing at almost seven feet tall, the man was a giant. His hands were larger than Jade's own head. His skin, stretched tight over bulging muscles, was leathery and riddled with scars. His cruel black eyes were sharp and gleamed with malice. Standing aside to allow the guards to drag Jade into the small room, he leered at his old punching bag.

Jade bucked as she was forced down and strapped onto a gurney. Kicking and snapping her teeth at any wandering fingers, she sneered at Korsakov. "Miss me, mate?"

Korsakov growled, inspecting his reflection in the shining dagger clenched in his fist. "Every day, little demon girl. I still owe you for this," he hissed. One of his long fingers were pointed at a long, jagged scar running horizontally across his throat.

Jade had made that cut when she was still Taboo. Korsakov had cornered her in a corridor while in the throat-slitting mood. Apparently, the feeling was mutual. Korsakov would've died in that hall, choking on his own blood, if a scientist hadn't found him. Now he was looking to settle the old score.

Jade flexed, testing her bonds; they held, and she sagged. Okay, then; time for plan C. Keep the Russian talking. "Hey," she said lightly, "Forgive and forget, aye?"

Korsakov chuckled darkly, fingering the straps and ensuring Jade was secure. Reaching for one of the many blades decorating the wall, he held it centimeters above the girl's chest. He began tracing the air above Jade's skin, mapping out where he would make the incisions. Jade squirmed nervously, the tendons in her throat flexing beneath her collar. The movement caught Korsakov's eye.

He grumbled, "Can't work with this." Hope sparked in Jade's chest, but quickly died as the torturer fished a paralyzing agent from one of his many pockets. Opening a drawer, he withdrew a hypodermic needle and inserted the chemical.

Jade ground her teeth at the feeling of the needle under her skin. Her body was leaden in seconds. A shrill, animalistic screech rose in her throat, but she forced it back. She wouldn't give Korsakov the satisfaction.

Now that Jade was completely at his mercy, the Russian removed the shock collar. Weighing it his fingers, he considered the collar. His eyes gleamed as an idea sparked in his mind. Setting the collar on his desk, he sat down and opened a panel in the side. In her gut, a bad feeling began gnawing away at Jade.