The Angel Track

Prologue - Enhanced Interrogation

Prologue - Enhanced Interrogation

   It burned. The ropes stitching themselves to his torn wrists. The acidic liquid pouring from the metal currently drilled into his skull. His gaze was aimed down at his blood splattered trousers, his scarred feet, and the blood-soaked flooring.

   Jonathan whimpered, a thirty-eight-year-old-man reduced to the babblings of a two-year-old.

   “What are they?” the cold, booming voice of the man who had tied him to his death bellowed.  

    A thick, wet substance landed in John’s blood matted hair, as the man catapulted his vile saliva on to him. He concentrated on it, trying to block out the excruciating pain his life was reduced to. He could feel it trickle down slowly to his hairline and seep through the contraption attached to his head.

   Crackling through the air, was the sound of the man’s grubby hands colliding with Jonathan’s cheek. The sting of his violence made John's eyes water but he couldn't feel it. John's soul was far away, disembodied, perhaps dancing with cruel Gods. The man peered at his newest experiment and scraped his hands across the side of John’s face, leaving a trail of filth. The man’s eyes were soulless, a superficial blue with no trace of humanity, let alone sanity.

   Abruptly, the man gripped and squeezed the machinery and impaled it deeper into Jonathan’s skull. Metal sliding in deeper piercing bone like it was paper. There were no screams left in Jonathan, no tears, and only a few scraps of rationality. Wooziness washed through him, clouding his vision until all he could see were the seductive black waves of unconsciousness.

   His head drooped in the chair of the abandoned warehouse, his whole body slumping as though the life had been pulled from him. The man walked away swiftly, the sound of his heavy boots reverberated through the floor as he exited his prison.

   “Scum.” the man muttered to himself, as an answer to his previous question.

   Jonathan dreamed of his beautiful children and wife. Her black hair and honest eyes, his children's innocence when they would look up at him. Maybe he'd see them someday, doubtfully in this life, but perhaps in the next. It was almost comical how he still clung to his belief of an afterlife, when the destruction of the world pointed to no divinity. He would willingly invite the sweet escape of death, to carry him away from his place of pain, on swift wings. Then it’d be black forever, no more war, just blessed blankness.

   The man returned, a new goal sparking his dead eyes, marching like he was Death himself. Gripped in his hand was a burnished length of iron, its end wickedly hot and gleaming in the shadowed room. At the end was an insignia of some form, it looked Celtic, with its interlocking threads. It was a brand. Like John's existence was no more than worthless, existing.

   As the man reached his experiment, he gave him one final look of disgust before walking to the back of him. Raising the brand, the man aimed for Jonathan’s nape. Pitilessly, he brought the brand down searing his skin for life. Burning in the new dedication that would be found in Jonathan after the experiment was over.

  The red and angry skin wept blood as Jonathan yelled in agony. Squirming until he suddenly jolted forwards and stopped screaming altogether. The silence continued as Jonathan stared into the shadows that clung to the room. He almost found it funny, no, in fact it was funny. It was the funniest thing to have happened to him in years.

   “Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!” Hysterically, Jonathan cackled as the last remnants of his sanity poured away.

   Embracing the hellish inferno of insanity.

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Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this prologue (even though I added it later than the rest of the chapters :) If you did enjoy it please vote and add it to your reading list :D

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That's enough of me babbling so have an awesome day filled with cake. Lots and lots of cake. :D

StepAwayFromMyElbows