Eggsy and Roxy

Deeper Still

Eggsy unzipped himself from a body bag, and he slapped his cheeks in an attempt to un-numb his face. The drugs would take some time before they completely wore off. The perfect combination of a small amount of the particular poison from Roxy's poker knife mixed with extra tranquilizer capsules they were able to take before they fell unconscious, made for the perfect fake death cocktail. His heart rate dropped and he was able to pass as dead.

    As Eggsy rolled up his body bag, he laughed under his breath.

"So much for classic army technique," he uttered to himself, remembering back to a simpler time of training and the beginning of friendships. Those days that had long since past.

    He glanced at his watch. "Bloody--" the time it had taken him to wake was much longer than he and Roxy had anticipated. He couldn't fathom what they could've done to her by now, so he tried not to think about the millions of things that could've happened to her. Which in turn made him think about them all the more.

    Roxy was strapped to a medical bed with Radcliffe looming over her. His eyes were red but he didn't look angry. However, the air of madness about him was still present. Roxy didn't think he could ever lose it.

    "I hope you're ready Ms. Morton." Radcliffe said hauntingly, "they're still prepping the semen sample we took from your partner before his untimely death. While you were both sleeping actually. Not much time now." Radcliffe fidgeted his hands like he was a child waiting in anticipation for his favorite thing in the world.

    It was strange, Roxy thought, that Radcliffe didn't begin his kidnap process with artificial insemination. Radcliffe had explained that to her. But his warped mind could only make sane people capable of understanding a percentage of it.

    He loved love stories, he had told her. He always gave the opportunity for his subjects to fall 'in love', or more frankly, mutually agree to make-love for the sake of staying alive. Though another reason was that Radcliffe seemed to Roxy, to fit the description of a porn addict. A terrible realization she came to when she paced her and Eggsy's cell for three hours, finding every hidden camera in that room.

    "He's a sick man," she had signed in British Sign Language to Eggsy. Right before they separated for their impromptu operation. Right before their farewell kiss.

     "Eggsy," she thought to herself. He was suppose to have sent a signal by now, or help. But it seemed to her that their time calculations had been off. She wouldn't dare entertain the possibility that he wasn't able to revive himself. Yet the concern she had for him had skyrocketed. More so than the concern for herself in her present predicament.

    "Not many have made it past the tournament of torture I would have put you through. Had you not killed Mr. Unwin, you'd both be there now. Some die before they create something that they know they can't keep. Your 'killing your partner' bit was unexpected. I had eyes on you both and was convinced you were in love. Either that or extremely close friends. Pulling a Romeo and Juliet confirmed my suspicions. Though normally the lovers do that together. Die, I mean to say... Yet you get to bypass the torture because my scientists say 'it'll only work now'. They can't preserve the sample for long. Science is a funny thing. One can be so fascinated by it, yet never understand it."

    Roxy's heart rate accelerated as two men in scrubs and medical face masks wheeled in a shiny cart of medical supplies.

    Eggsy walked slowly through a long empty, and eerie hallway. There was the distant sound of children talking.  Yet something was off to him. The pitch of the voices were distinctly childish, yet the style in which they were talking was no. They weren't laughing, or speaking with different tones of voice. As he peaked into a room he saw children from the ages of 4 to 10 intellectually discussing how to dismember a persons body, limb from limb, in a way which could inflict the most pain.