Betrayal (I of III) (593 hits)
Category: Quotes & StoriesRating: 1.87 on 21 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Draqus (View user info) at 2005-06-23 16:23:31 EDT
I wake; my hands don't.
Twist and turn a little; not as much movement as there should be: tied up. I blink a couple of times, but I still see nothing: blindfolded, too. Stop struggling; be patient; conserve energy: the training kicks in.
I figure out as much as I can: that's rule number one. I can't hear anything, so either there is no-one with me or they're staying silent. What little I can do with my hands suggests a smooth chair: no opportunity to break free. That's about it, so I play dead: that's rule number two.
"Don't bother," a male voice says. "We know you're awake." Wrong move; now I know there's more than one. I recognise the voice, too, but can't place it.
Buy time: rule number three.
"What else do you know?"
Pause.
"Everything."
Perfume: I can smell it close to me, a new fragrance, not there before; strawberries, raspberries, it puts me in mind of. Somewhat familiar to my nose; they say memory is strongest with the sense of smell, but I can't place it exactly. I must have taken quite a knock.
"It's good to see you again," I improvise, leaning towards the smell.
She laughs.
"Nice try."
Hang on: a knock? What knock? I think back, and it comes to me: hit from behind; I didn't see the bastard who did it, or bitch, for that matter: that laugh wasn't a friendly one.
"Care to explain why I'm here?"
Silence.
"No? So I'm just supposed to sit here, right?"
Silence.
I doubt they've left me: no-one could have been that silent; I'm listening to everything. It's all I have. I feel light-headed. Don't black out again: that's rule number four.
"And rule number five, Mr Brooks?"
Shit. They know who I am. They know what I am. And I didn't cover my dizzy spell as well as I thought.
"Never reveal your identity. Well done: the irony there must be killing you."
Rule number six: never insult your captors. Ah well, I'll throw that one out with my chances of survival. They know me, I almost know them. I reckon I'm fucked.
Silence.
I feel obliged to fill it, but I know they want me to, because that's rule number three again, and they obviously know the rules. I'll have to play it by ear.
-------
I've blatantly blacked out, because I can see now, but can't remember the blindfold being removed. Take stock; look around; rule number one, again, only this time with more sensory resources.
It's a room; small, grey, boring, indistinct, no way of locating it. Just how I would have done it; just how anyone with an ounce of sense would have done it. I'm in the centre of the room, facing a blank wall. The walls to my left and right are blank: door's behind me; not good. Can't stop people sneaking up behind me. Usually you find yourself facing the door, because they think it intimidates, but it just clues you in to who's on. I get the impression I'm up against someone from my own unit.
Betrayal; dirty word.
I hear the door behind me open.
"Welcome back," I say, casually. Rule number seven: don't panic, and if you do, don't let them see it. Bureaucratic bullshit: no doubt the paper pushing fuck who made the rules never found himself in a chair, facing some hard-nut bastard with a grudge.
"Yes, Mr. Brooks. Well done," the male voice from earlier says. It sounds tired, fed up: not a good sign.
They come in front of me for the first time, three of them, each and every single last bloody one part of my unit.
There's Markus, the snivelling little shit, retreating into the corner. Nothing more than a rat, a coward, always somebody's bitch. No doubt it took very little to persuade him to cross over.
And there's Rita, the closest one to me, the way it always has been, never will be. My ring is still on her finger, even though we gave that idea up a long time ago; seductively pouting, as if it's just a game. Always a game with that venomous bitch, though I never took her for a traitor.
And there's the one to make the three, King Bastard himself. I'm guessing he's the orchestrator; a slippery fish, never knew what way he would go, but now I can see him in all his glory, standing there like Emperor Bitch, the way he's always wanted to be: Foster, that vindictive, rotten shit.
My face remains the picture of composure.
"How are you all keeping?" I say.
The smile stays fixed.
"Surprised?" he counters. He stares at me, implacable; shoulders set just so, the picture of steadfast control.
"I've been expecting it, to be honest," I lie. And it's a big lie, coating my tongue with bile as it drags itself out of my throat like a tapeworm.
Rita straddles me. It's not the first time.
"You wouldn't be telling naughty fibs, would you?" she purrs, face angelic. That bitch; never could stop herself.
I spit in her face and shit on rule number six.
"Do your worst," I sneer. "Get it over with. I'll not tell you anything."
Markus slides forward and slaps me across the face; a good assassin, but a coward; the bullet was always in the back.
I laugh; to hell with rule number six. I have rule number eight to fall back on.
"We don't give a shit about the company," Markus sniffs. "Today, it's just between us and these four walls. It's personal."
It's then that I see the scalpel in his pocket and I can't help my eyes widening.
"Worried?" Foster smirks. I don't reply. Instead, I take stock of the situation: no means of escape; three enemies who know the rules and know me, both intimately; a scalpel; a vindictive bastard and an acidic ex.
Fall back. Rule number eight. Easiest way all around. I feel around my teeth.
"Rule number eight, Mr. Brooks?" Foster says icily. "Honestly, I'm surprised you went for it so quickly. We removed it, of course. No cyanide for you."
Of course; I'm working against the best here. No hope for me.
Shit.
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Vote for me! Ubermadness III!
User Reviews
Submitted by corn_nugget (user info) at 2007-12-19 11:06:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I like everything except the phrase "blatantly blacked out".
Submitted by Draqus (user info) at 2005-10-06 15:06:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
The point of it is to convey someone's thoughts. If you think in complete sentences *all the damn time*, then I give you a medal.
Ever heard of James Joyce? Or the book Ulysses?
Submitted by johnhutch (user info) at 2005-09-15 16:32:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
The story: it's actually; really good. Color me: surprised. Gets in; your: head,,.:;:.
:;;;:.;.;>;.;,;.;.:<;
But I could do without that stuff. It actually <i>is</i> grammatically incorrect. It doesn't take away from the story at all, but, y'know, if we're pointing out puncuation here I should be fair.
Submitted by Lechuga (user info) at 2005-07-12 02:44:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Very VERY good.
Submitted by badassmofo (user info) at 2005-06-25 07:43:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This rocks...you got one of my Ubermadness votes.
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2005-06-24 16:30:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
very cool
Submitted by DaBaddestHic (user info) at 2005-06-24 10:03:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Very good start. Exes always try and find a way and screw up your life don't they? Will wait and see what else you come up with.
Submitted by Nancypants (user info) at 2005-06-23 20:47:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by shitfuck (user info) at 2005-06-23 19:48:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Well, um. Should I kill the streak or shouldn't I kill the streak?
Nah.
Up yours.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2005-06-23 17:31:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
nicely paced.
Submitted by notyou (user info) at 2005-06-23 17:31:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice. If it was a book I wouldn't be able to put it down.
*tries to turn page to get to chapter 2*
Submitted by William_Q_Percy (user info) at 2005-06-23 17:29:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Hahaha, sorry, that did come off as mean towards you.
My bad.
I still don't like being called Williamson, though. The guy is a proper douche.
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2005-06-23 17:28:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Yeah. The punctuation was a little choppy, but it was cool anyway. Continue, please.
Submitted by Draqus (user info) at 2005-06-23 17:13:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Sweet Jesus, I thought your were williamson.
Sincere apologies.
Oops.
Submitted by Kre8rix (user info) at 2005-06-23 16:56:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
nice, dude.
Keep it up.
Submitted by William_Q_Percy (user info) at 2005-06-23 16:53:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Don't ever call me Williamson again.
But I see what you were trying to do. It did give me the the sense that he was struggling to think, but almost... 'too much'. You know what I mean?
Submitted by Draqus (user info) at 2005-06-23 16:39:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I take the point Williamson, but my intention was to try, at least in part, to emulate the "stream of consciousness" writing that was pioneered by James Joyce (in Ulysses) and it's damned hard to punctuate.
But I take the point, and appreciate the criticism.
Submitted by WildcatMcGee (user info) at 2005-06-23 16:39:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I agree. It was a little choppy in the beginning but easily read later on. Seems to be Italian Job-esque, no?
Submitted by Vix (user info) at 2005-06-23 16:38:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Excellent, can't wait for the others!
Submitted by William_Q_Percy (user info) at 2005-06-23 16:31:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Not too shabby. The punctuation in the first part was choppier than I would've liked, but it did the trick I suppose.
Submitted by c1ndy (user info) at 2005-06-23 16:27:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
good stuff