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Date Posted: 20:40:42 12/21/02 Sat
Author: maniac
Subject: Re: who wants to create?
In reply to: choo 's message, "Re: who wants to create?" on 19:01:56 12/13/02 Fri

...cold water splashed against his face woke Cyrus from the vivid nightmare. he tried to open his eyes, and the pain searing through the bruised slits made the memories slam back into his head. they had taken him. there WAS a madman, he remembered now. asking questions, beating him. and there had been another. who was it?

Chewey. my god, the things they'd done to him. Cyrus doubted pretty much that the man was alive. could he have taken so much pain and lived?

Cyrus flexed against the pain, and the agony of open sores reminded him that he was manacled to the walls of this dark, eternal dungeon. hands and feet bound until they bled, blood running down his body to splash on the cold stone floor two feet beneath him, where it was licked up by the blind, manic rats which dwelled in this hell.

what questions were they asking him? he couldn't remember. something about the Schwartzenegger clone....some kind of clone war was beginning, and somebody seemed to think that he - Cyrus - had the answers. and Chewey too, no doubt.

as the though ran across his bruised mind, the huge metal door at the far end of the dimly-lit dungeon swung open with an ageless creaking. in came three figures. two guards and a slab of meat with limbs. as the guards dragged their prisoner closer, as they raised his swolen, battered body to the other set of manacles Cyrus saw who it was. it was Chewey. or what was left of him. his flesh torn, burned; bone showing through the skin of his upper left arm; his turquiose locks ripped from his scalp.

the guards left in silence. the dungeon was theirs. all Cyrus could hear was the faint rasp of Chewey's laboured breathing. it looked as if he'd been tortured to death and beyond. whatever information they wanted, they wanted it bad.

and he knew that next time it would be his turn.......

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