Prisoners of Sol 15

CW: You know why (torture)

The coldness of the metal beneath my back was the first thing I noticed upon waking. There was nothing between my skin and that sensation, suggesting I’d been stripped of my attire. My eyes opened to find myself with thick, steel bands wrapped all around me—multiple on each limb, around my waist, and one tightly around my neck. Fluorescent lights pointed down at me from overhead. I was stretched out like some guinea pig in an Asscar lab, as the brown-furred bastards moved between rooms. There was no telling where they’d taken us, likely through the very tunnels in that supply center, but nobody knew where we were.

None of the other humans were in this chamber with me, though I swore I could hear screams coming from down the hall. I could see a bag of what I assumed was my blood being studied under a microscope; needles that must’ve been used to poke me looked like bull tranquilizers. Fear coursed through my veins, knowing that I was at alien scientists’ disposal. I had to get out of here, before I got turned into more of a lab experiment! I pulled with all of my might against the cuffs, but the overkill restraints did their job. A chuckle came from behind the top of my skull, though even when I rolled my eyes back as far as possible, it was tough to look.

I recognized none other than Prince Larimak himself, inspecting the “assets” that he’d retrieved. “This one is awake now too! I was waiting on you…Captain, is it?”

“Captain Preston Carter,” I answered, trying to sound calm. Does Larimak understand our language? “That’s all I’m obligated to tell you, by our prisoner of war laws, which I hope you’ll respect.”

The noble glanced at a nearby scientist, then burst out laughing. Guess he does. “Prisoner of war laws? Your metalback friends don’t do those—and you sided with them. They’ve made our people suffer for intel, yes; we couldn’t fucking torture them back, could we? Feelingless snots.”

“We told them that was unacceptable; that’s the truth. Really.”

Larimak’s snout curled into a sneer, and he used a nasally voice. “‘That’s the truth. Really.’ No, here’s the truth; we’re going to figure out exactly what it takes to kill your species. Exactly what works against you. I will make your life a living hell unless you tell me everything I want to know and then some.”

Panic was setting in at that prospect, terrified at what they had in mind for me…at how long I’d hold up mentally and physically. If Larimak said he wanted to run scientific tests on killing humans, that meant that I was about to die. While I’d been cavalier about the risks, I didn’t want my life to be over…and I didn’t want my end to come like this. The days of misery and torment ahead before my demise filled me with dread. My mind was filled with images of horrors that I could hardly imagine what they felt like.

I was completely and utterly fucked, having walked right into Larimak’s pristine trap; he now had a bunch of human toys. Furthermore, Mikri was all alone on Jorlen, aside from a few of his Vascar comrades. He was going to blame himself for all of this, when I was the moron who wandered off and left him behind. I could remember just how scared he was of losing me, and I’d never even had the chance to tell him goodbye. The mission had been going so well up until that point, where I’d felt downright invincible. Had the ESU succeeded in taking the military base? I knew they hadn’t succeeded in finding the Prince.

This has to be a nightmare. Maybe I fell asleep in the drop pod—no, that was torture, I couldn’t have. I have to…stay strong, and not give up anything about Earth. One shot through The Gate and every molecule in that universe will be blipped out of existence. Everyone I ever knew….

“Not forthcoming? That’s fine, I could use something fun to watch. Soften him up a bit, Tilian,” Larimak instructed a scientist. “I don’t want the specimen dead; we already have one cadaver to poke at. I need this one in particular fully intact.”

Tilian blinked in surprise. “That includes fingers? We’ve found success with—”

“Leave the fingers alone, for now. I noticed on the footage that there was a chipbrain with art on its armor, rather curious. It seemed to be calling out to this one. We’re leaving all of him available as a bargaining chip; the more we have to take away, the better.”

Horror and rage filled my chest. “What are you trying to do to the ‘chipbrain?’ I thought you don’t believe they can care about us.”

Larimak walked over, patting my arm sardonically. “Don’t you worry about that. You have your own problems. Though if you worry about your silversheen so much, we don’t have to involve it if you…talk.”

“You’re insane. You’re a demented freak with a wicked witch lair palace—”

“Bring the spike machine over, and test it on Captain Carter’s hipbone. Let’s see exactly how much force it takes to break that tough, tough skin.”

Larimak retreated to a chair in the corner, and Tilian wheeled the requested machine over. There were several spikes that looked a bit like drills, with various sizes and forces applied. I could feel every muscle in my body go stiff with fear, as I tried to shy away, but was blocked by the table. I gritted my teeth to brace myself, and prayed I could keep myself composed. If I remembered what I was fighting for, surely I could remain strong? A spike lowered in slow motion, twisting and whirring, while my eyeballs couldn’t look away from the impending doom. Holding back my screams would deny these sick fucks their satisfaction, so I had to try.

Oh God, oh God, oh God. I hope the Prince doesn’t find Mikri, because I don’t want him to see this.

To describe the pain as excruciating would be an understatement; it blotted out everything else in my mind like a supernova, an unbearable white-hot pain that made my nerves squeal in anguish. The feeling of a metal tendril boring a hole in my skin, ever deeper, was unbearable. My sole thought was to make the searing pain that radiated throughout my midsection stop: to beg or do anything to be free of this misery. I could feel the primal howl coming from my chest, and my legs spasmed and locked within those horrid clamps. When the drill paused and retracted, it was the greatest relief I’d felt in my life, as I sat there panting and drenched in sweat.

I could see my wristwatch removed and lying on the counter, and realized with a pit enlarging in my stomach that mere minutes had passed. It had felt like a never-ending eternity. The machine rotated to a small pointed needle, before lowering it down once more. I realized that this one was burning hot, and screamed at the top of my lungs, running my vocal cords ragged; the agony was blinding and all-encompassing. It was shocking how many times a man could wish for death within a few hours, and how many unbearable sensations my body was willing to pass along to my mind. 

The aliens mixed it up so I couldn’t get used to it, as if I could ever learn to shut out such horrors. When I begged in a broken voice for water, they slapped a towel over my face and dumped a jug on me; I spluttered and choked, my animal brain screaming that I was drowning. After “verifying” how much electricity was useful, Tilian worked in shocks that made my convulsing body vibrate with pain. It was like barbed wire spreading through my flesh, never lessening—I lost the very sensation of myself. Everything that I felt was burned into my brain, as it melted together into one desire for an out. My strength and my will were broken when the circus stopped, having lost all notions of time or purpose.

“Captain!” Larimak declared in a giddy, singsong voice. “Tell me where your species comes from. I want an exact location of your planet, on a starmap, and every last detail better match when more of your crew starts yapping. That, or we can start up again…”

Exhausted, at my body’s limits, tears streamed down my face; every nerve ending was on fire, and my brain was a whimpering puddle at the thought of the torture starting back up. “Go…to…”

“Yes?” the royal said, leaning closer.

I stared straight at him, finding the last scrap of defiance within my shattered psyche; channeling that, I spit as hard as I could into his face. “Hell!”

“You…you’ll fucking regret that.” Larimak wiped the saliva from his chin with rage glowing in his eyes. The Asscar grabbed a wooden board, and swung it hard into my low abdomen; I weakly gasped in pain, wishing to nurse the tender flesh. “Get your lighter ready, Tilian. Burn his fingertips one by one, on my signal.”

The prince grumbled in disgust, pulling a lever to flip the table up to a vertical position. He moved a camera to focus on me, turned it on, and dusted off his paws with a certain smugness. I wasn’t sure who he was broadcasting too, but my head hung lifeless; there wasn’t much fight left in me to care. My hands curled into fists on instinct, before Tilian gave me a withering look and angled the lighter toward my groin. My eyes widened in alarm, and I unfurled my fingers in a flash. The Asscar scientist snickered, and placed metal tubes around my digits to stop me from retracting them on instinct; only the fingertips were left exposed.

I gulped, finding myself bawling before they’d even started. “Please…don’t do this.” 

“Android! Look what we’ve done to your organic friend,” Larimak sneered into a handheld radio, catching my attention. “I know you’ve found a way into our communications network, to listen for any sign of him. Hear the begging? We did this in a day—there might not be much left of his mind at all, if you don’t hurry.”

There was no reply over the line, to which the noble gave an indifferent shrug. Tilian started torching my pointer finger, ravaging the cluster of nerves and deadening my skin. I couldn’t bite back the wild scream, despite Larimak’s assertion that Mikri was watching. The prince grabbed a scalpel to carve into my cheeks, while making eye contact with the camera; he huffed in frustration, as he struggled to pull the blade through the skin. It was rough sawing through the tissue. Through the shooting anguish, it was difficult to tell what he was drawing, though it eventually hit me that it was a heart…like the art on my beloved robot’s armor. I felt sick in a way that wasn’t just from the pain.

“Nothing?” Larimak chuckled, as Tilian progressed to my next finger. “He looks more like you now. Look at that blood, all red and fine and—we could draw some more of it, if you don’t want to pick up. Maybe we have to up the ante.”

I squirmed, trying to form the words. He’s not listening—at least, I hope not. Just stop!

The Asscar noble lifted a buzzsaw, and gestured toward my right ankle. “Let’s remove a foot! Amputations draw lots of blood, and he’ll never walk again; and oh, he might go into shock while conscious. Very, very painful. Announce yourself, chipbrain, or we cut!”

My eyes widened with alarm, feeling my foot firmly held in place by metal clamps. They were going to cut off my foot like medieval…no, I didn’t want to feel that. My breathing was erratic and shaky from fear; I’d thought I couldn’t take any more of this hours ago. The saw began to lower, before I heard a crackle from the handheld.

“Enough! Stop! What is it you want?” came a garbled voice over the radio. Mikri. Mikri, no…

The prince seemed amused, and pulled back the saw. “Tell me where the humans come from, and we’ll stop doing this to your friend. It’s that simple.”

I weakly struggled to find my voice, as Tilian paused the burning of my fingers. “No, Mikri. Don’t—”

The scientist moved on to burning my ring finger, cutting off my plea in a shrill scream. A sob racked my chest, as I wished over and over for death. Larimak revved the buzzsaw, and began counting down from five. I hoped that the amputation would knock me unconscious from shock, so that I could have a break from this unrelenting misery. The sole dim thought I had was that I was touched that the android had been looking for me. Mikri had to let this happen, since it would kill all of us if they found Earth; we both knew the stakes. Surely the logical Vascar would protect our entire species, and Sofia back at The Gate. 

“One,” Larimak finished, and I resigned myself to the inevitable. “Enjoy this, Carter.”

“Wait! Humans are from another dimension!” Mikri shouted. No! Don’t…I…

“Another dimension: they’re fucking dimension hoppers, like the Elusians?! That’s…bad news. Explains a lot about their capabilities. Where is the breach to this other dimension?”

“I don’t know,” the Vascar lied, before emitting an alarmed whir as Larimak gestured back to my leg. “I can find out! I can look through the organics’ computers, if you give me time—and I’ll only do it if you promise not to hurt him!”

“I can’t promise we won’t hurt him: have to give you some motivation. But we won’t cut off any of his bits for…two days, give or take, and I’ll let him have a short rest, since you were so helpful. Just remember, Preston doesn’t have long, Mikri.”

Larimak switched off the camera, giving me a look of satisfaction. The prince and Tilian departed from the laboratory at long last, leaving me strapped to a vertical table without the slightest comfort. My chin fell to my chest with defeat, body devoid of all energy or hope. Mikri had just told them exactly what they needed to know—what I endured that indescribable agony for. The android might’ve thought he was honoring my wishes by not giving the details about Earth, but now, the Asscar would know to look for a breach. I stared at the blue tile below my feet and wept. Knowing our connections to Vascar space, it was a matter of time before the enemy figured out where we hailed from. 

A/N - Chapter 15! Prince Larimak breaks Preston in his vicious attempts to extract information on Earth’s information, but while our narrator wishes for death, he still defies the organic Vascar and refuses to pass along that knowledge. Larimak pivots to broadcasting Preston’s graphic harm to Mikri, who he figured out has an affinity for this human; that was why Captain Carter was kept mostly intact. Unable to bear Preston’s screams, Mikri coughs up that humans are from another dimension and buys two days’ time to impart the rest.

What do you think about how Larimak is experimenting on and extracting information from his prisoners of war, while enjoying their torment? Do you fault Mikri for telling Larimak part of what he wanted to know to save his friend? How do you imagine Mikri is feeling right now…and is this something Preston would even be able to mentally recover from?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!