The Last Colony

Part 27

Mark moved to lean against the wall beside the bars. He wanted to get the best angle to watch the three of them closely. The key to escape was knowing the enemy. He just had to wait. These guys were clearly crazy and at each other's throats. Knowing that Conquest and War didn't get along with each other was good. He might be able to use that to his advantage. War eyed Famine as he moved closer, grumbling around his cigarette. "It was only a matter of time before they found one. I'm not worried." Famine snatched the cigarette from War's lips, crushing it in his hand. War tensed up, his casual demeanor becoming more aggressive. Through the eye holes of Famine's golden expressionless mask, his light brown eyes glared into War's. Dropping the pieces of the cigarette, Famine told War in a blunt sneering tone. "I know it's hard... but use your head. One pull of a thread can unravel an entire canvas. A cure gives people hope. It will draw people to them like a moth to a flame. Scared people seek out a way to feel safe again. This could start a chain reaction. Now I need you to take this seriously. Or is that too hard for you?"

War didn't blink as he replied in a dark cool voice. "Just tell me what to do." Famine glanced to Conquest, who shuffled his feet anxiously but nodded. Famine relaxed a little, telling them both more casually. "Good. Conquest, go get him for me. He's being held by my men at the gate." Conquest bowed his head, then quickly strolled back up the cellar steps. Famine then pointed to War, saying in a darker tone of voice. "And you. Take your time with him. Break him in pieces until he tells me what I want. Then bleed him dry. I wanna make sure the cure isn't in his blood. Just in case." Famine started to walk away but stopped to turn and add in a more chipper tone. "Would you like a little something to help you focus?" War closed the gap between them with a smirk. Famine reached into his robe and pulled out a small sliver canister. Setting his staff aside, Famine's hand slid around War's neck, putting the canister to his nose. Mark winced hearing the sharp hiss of something escaping the canister as War inhaled deeply.

Famine removed it, clicking it shut again to put it away. War whipped his nose, tilting his head back to exhale lightly. Famine lowered his hand from him, asking him calmly. "You good?" War stretched, rolling his shoulders as he said with a grin. "Oh, ya. I feel great." Famine patted War's cheek with a small chuckle. War gestured around at his equipment, telling Famine with a strangely calm voice that didn't match his bouncing body. "How would you like me to tear into him?" Famine glanced around, then pointed to a spiked chair. War quickly moved to pull it out into the open with a bright smile. Famine unbuckled the thick leather restraints on it, playfully telling War. "Don't get too excited. I'm only doing this because your pain will balance out my pleasures." War stripped his armor off to reveal his red t-shirt that hung off his shoulder and his tight black leather pants beneath his leg guards. Famine ignored him, until War slid between him and the chair to purr out. "Come on, Famine. What goes together better than pleasure and pain? What more do I have to do to tip those scales in my favor?"

War reached under the hood to snap off Famine's mask, bringing his lips close to his. Famine grabbed War by the throat and shoved him into the chair. War fell into it without a sound. Mark could see the spikes puncturing through his leather pants, causing him to bleed. Yet, War didn't appear to care or notice. Famine tilted War's head back, purring over his lips in a smug lusty voice. "I want you to suffer. Because your pleasure in pain... is my pleasure." War dropped the mask, reaching up to cup Famine's jaw, purring back just as lustfully. "Then hurt me. Kill me with my own desires." Famine shook his head teasingly, taking a step back as he told him casually. "I already am. Now get up, Asshole." War grabbed the spiked arms of the chair and rose up easily, grinning devilishly. Famine rolled his eyes, shoving War aside and flipping his hood back. Mark straightened up a little at Famine's look. Out of all the horsemen, he was by fair the most normal looking. His shoulder length straight brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail, showing off the small gold ring piercings around the edges of his ears. His brown eyes were so dark that they appeared to be black.