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 Posted: Fri Sep 19, 2014 1:25 pm
He stopped feeling pain after awhile. he wasn't sure if it was like...a mental block, or if his body was just so accustomed to it, that he numb. As much as his feelings, as much as his heart was.
He didn't sleep ever, and though Scavenger tried, his body become stronger and stronger to the poisons until Scavenger, in a fit of rage, had combined him with three or four of them.
He thought he'd feel pain, but he was pretty sure it was the sure path to death, the quiet easy road. he didn't feel anything anymore, so it was just this step left right?
It had an odd effect, those potions all together, and though Scavenger didn't want it too, it brought an awareness to Dakota, a sense of purpose. An awakening. So he waited a couple days, and when Scavenger had hit his limit from Dakota's lack of response, he ordered the moon hunter off to die. Set him up on the table where they'd cut into him. Like they had Sammy, like they had Jenson. Bug home. He thought it funny, because he had made it through that torture, made it through it all and still he was going to be fed to the pets. It seemed famine really didn't like a strong spirit. No...not Strong. He didn't have a spirit at all. He gave up fighting, he gave up everything.
So they laid him on the ground, in the sand that was soaked with his former teams blood, in the same spot they made them little huts. He wasn't surprised when Scavenger came back, to finish the job, dismissing the two war horseman that had held Dakota down. he didn't move. He didn't try to. He would've said he felt the knife at his throat, but he didn't and it dug into his skin, drawing a deep red line from his jawline, to his shoulder.
He didn't feel it.
At first it looked like blood would pour out, but weeks of poison and toxins in his body, the faint red turned a bubbling back and spilled into the sand with a hiss, eating away at the ground like acid. Scavenger was so fascinated, he made a second cut, from where the last one left off, down to his shoulder bone. The black liquid oozed again, this time Dakota could feel a press of cold glass like the horseman was capturing it. Still...he felt no pain, but as the toxin left, he felt a plan forming in his head. He felt the rise of Chama, the phoenix ushering him to use this time to escape.
The next cut went from his should, to the mid of his back. This time he felt it, but he gritted his teeth, so the horseman wouldn't notice. the black ooze was lessening, and he could feel the hot searing pain from the cuts, from the warm sandy hair filling his wound. He was sweating. Another sign, another awareness.
The last cut was the hardest not to scream through, as it drew from his lower back, to right below his waist line. The black ooze was so little, Scavenger made a sound. He heard the scuttle of bugs, saw them coming for him and moved, Chama drew so quickly, the famine horseman stared in wonderful surprise as Dakota dug the blade into it's flesh. He waited for it to hit the core, and kept digging with her, let the flames flare around him. He dissipated, like halloweeners and horseman often did, and the bugs, with no leader or direction fled back into their homes and nest.
He gritted his teeth, the pain of his back, the cut and the blood making him dizzy, but the human body did amazing things, and with no poison left to slow him down, he moved, hobbling his way out of the cave. He didn't hear the alarms, the rustle of wings yet, so he kept moving.
He kept moving and moving. Out of the cave, past the oasis, moving and moving. From the inner city, to the outer city, he kept going.
God, why the ******** had he done this. Why had he run away, he wasn't going to get far, he wasn't going to get anywhere. they'd be on him in seconds. Minutes at most.
It was so eerily quiet, he wondered if this was all part of the game, the test, the plan? Was this planned? He coughed, blood welling from his wound to his throat. He was almost there. Just there, the gates of the oasis city, where he first started this mission. He was so close.
it was getting blurry, everything looked like sand and sand dunes and soon it was just yellow blobs, but he was almost there. He was so close.
Why had he run? why had he run?
He fell to his knees. He was so close.
His hands hit the sand. He was so close.
Candace's smile. Her soft gentle touches. Her eyes, her gorgeous eyes and how they looked at him with love and care. his fingers clenched the sand, so hard, so grainy.....
Molly's laugh, Wilson's look, Marcus's disapproval . A pair of small hands outstretched to him, and he looked at it. 4 threaded red strings around one, while the other had some sort of mismatched arm covering and rubber colored mix of bracelets. he knew them, and wondered what sort of hallucination would bring them before him.
"Don't give up yet handsome.." One whispered. They took his outstretched hand, and tugged him, one final push out of the city...
Into the sight of a large camp of hunters set up outside the city. He couldn't register it all, but as they rushed to him, he wondered if this was all planned, all part of a dream. He collapsed into the sand to the sounds of "Medic" and "Rainstar is alive."
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Posted: Fri Sep 19, 2014 1:40 pm
He wasn't sure how long he was out. But he didn't care.
They stitched him back up, kept him in the infirmary. Tried to get him to talk. He didn't.
He filled out the mission report, so he didn't have to deal with Caelius.
He left the infirmary when they let him, and went to his room. But he didn't stay long. Candace wasn't there after all. He went to the life labs and he would read for an hour, all the reports from the sahara. added his own notes.
he went back to the room, looked at the bed and wondered if it felt good. Better then cold hard ground and sand. He laid on it. It felt like a cloud, it smelt like Candace.
He didn't weep this time, but he didn't sleep there for long.
3 hours of sleep, so he went to the training field.
He came back to eat. MRE's. He was pretty sure this was no better then what he fed them before. He downed it with whiskey, and pain meds.
He tried to sleep again, but pain woke him, so he kept moving, cleaning, doing things, mindless things. Another pull from Jack daniels, the pop of pain meds.
This went on for a day or two.
When he got the text message for a new mission, he went. Because what else could he do? He was pissed, of course that they called him soon, but it would keep his mind occupied.
he needed to remain occupied.
Or he'd remember. He'd sit long enough to remember it all.
He just wanted to go back to being completely numb.
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