Chapter thirty-seven -- Witchblade Karma

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Date Posted: 20:47:20 12/11/02 Wed
Author: Spin
Subject: Chapter thirty-seven
In reply to: Spin 's message, "Revelation" on 22:34:06 05/20/02 Mon

Faith waited for Immo to open the door. He punched in the appropriate numbers on the keypad. The corresponding beeping sounds echoed loudly in the empty hall. Suddenly a double beeping pronounced the acceptance of Immo�s pass code. A faint pressuring hiss released the door. Immo grabbed he edge of the frame, slowly pulling back on the metal door. Faith stiffened as a blast of trepidation ran up her spine. Another apprehensive inch revealed more to the room.

She knew from memory the layout of the torture room. The floor was made up of concrete but everything from the walls to the ceilings was laced with stainless steel. On the right side of the room was one of those long silver tables just like the one in Immo�s lab. Flushed and nailed against the left sidewall was a large wooden post frame in the shape of an �X�, each corner had leather straps used to secure a person�s wrists and ankles. Along the walls were various weapons: whips, canes, and floggers. And in the middle of the room hanging loosely from the ceilings were two lengthy chains with leather cuffs at the end.

An audible gasp followed by a breathless whisper, �Oh God, Ian� escaped Faith�s lips. Immo was already inside the room standing near the metal table, his head lowered. For a brief moment Faith stood near the entrance of the door. Every ounce of will power and discipline kept her rooted on the spot. It would be so easy to turn around, run down the hall, and search for Irons. To drag him down by the collar, strap him to the wooden post or better yet hang him by his wrist from the chains and beat the shit out of him. Her hands were clenched on her sides just from the very thought. The rattling sound of the chain pulled Faith out of her frenzied trance and a weak moan had escaped Ian�s lips.

The feverish images of Sara naked in his arms were fading away. No matter how hard he tried to hold on he wasn�t strong enough to stay within the warmth and lightness of their love. Soon he was surrounded in darkness. A distant sound echoed off somewhere in the bleak void. Ian didn�t know where to turn he had no sense of direction; he was lost. Soon the fog began to lift and realization settled in. The image of Sara was just that an image. He had been dreaming about her again. But somehow the dream was different. Everything about it was different. These weren�t dreams concocted from the thoughts of a lonely man. It felt so real. The love was real it had to be. The way her hands caressed him, how she kissed him back, words of love he longed to hear escaping her lips. Importantly the love that reflected in those emerald eyes.

The distant sound grew louder and finally reality pounced on him. Thoughts of what had happened flashed quickly in his mind. He was still stuck in the darkness and he needed light to see his way. Through the silts of his half lidded eyes Ian could fairly make out the lithe silhouette form standing in front of him. He couldn�t tell who it was. With blood and sweat blurring his vision the apparition could be anyone or anything. Yet deep down Ian wanted to believe she came for him. Hoping that the blade had overwhelmed her with a vision of him. Showing her the twisted turn of events. How he�d defied against the only man who he considered a father. To a man he had remained loyal to up until the blade had chosen a new wielder. How he explained to Irons that his allegiance belonged solely to her. Not to the Witchblade but to her, to the wielder.

He called; �Sara?� his voice was hoarse. �What did he say?� Faith asked while straining to hear. Ian tried again but it came out in a mere whisper.

Faith stepped over the threshold and walked over to Ian. The lights around the room were lowered to a dim. Faith didn�t need light to see bruises and cuts that had been inflicted upon him. But a lone soft beam of light coming from the ceiling shone brightly down around Ian. Highlighting his form like some prize on display. The odd angle of light had cast a shadow around his naked body. Mass of chocolate locks hid his face.

The apparition had glided towards him from across the room. Ian could feel heat emitting from the figure. Even in this closer range he could not make out who stood before him. He tried to catch a scent but all he could detect was the strong metallic odor of blood and the foul stench of sweat. Ian tried to move his arms but the rattling sound of chains reminded him he was trapped. Leather shackles, which were attached to chains that hung from the ceiling, were wrapped around his wrist. He hung loosely from them, the cuffs biting into his flesh, his toes barely touching the cold concrete floor. He felt like his arms were about to he ripped from the sockets. The pain that hadn�t existed in his dream throbbed and overwhelmed his entire body now. Finally the presence or presences he realized began to talk. But the humming and the insistent pounding in his head were making it difficult to hear.

�Now you understand,� Immo paused then added, �Faith?� She turned her head to look at the doctor. Faith becomes conscious of her error. She had been so taken aback by what she seen and was so concerned for Ian she had forgotten about Immo. It didn�t matter now all that mattered was Ian. Faith disappointedly grinned not able to accept and believe she let her guard down. �I already knew who you were even before we left the lab.� Immo interjected amusingly. �Tell me how did I give myself away doctor Immo?� Faith asked curiously.

Immo raised his head; his eyes stared off trying to find the words. When he found them he held her gaze and spoke, �There are not many, a few really, whom I know that understands what goes on behind closed doors. The way you spoke of this place with such conviction, passion and with such hatred. Then there is the protective way you talked about Ian. I simply put the two together and got my answer.�

�I let my emotions, my feelings cloud my judgment hence lowering my guard.� Faith unhappily expressed.

Immo nodded his head then moved from the table and gently grabbed her chin between his fingers, �I just knew it was you. Besides we share a past. I helped usher you into this world remember?� Immo and Faith shared a small smile. Yeah they shared a past but it wasn�t a strong one like how she had it with Ian. Faith knew Immo was afraid of Irons and when given the opportunity to chose between life and death the good doctor would chose life, his of course. But for the time being she wasn�t worried that he was going to rush to Irons the moment he had the chance. He�ll hold out for a while. Besides it was only a matter of time before Irons found out she was back.

The moment had past and Faith�s eyes grew cold and hard. �This was no punishment. Irons was going to kill Ian wasn�t he doctor?� Immo sighed and nodded his head. Faith�s jaw clenched and through gritted teeth asked, �Why did he stop?� Immo shook his head and averted his eyes. �Exhaustion. He became exhausted after a while.� Faith narrowed her eyes at the thought. �Now there�s one thing I can be grateful for. Ian is alive barely because the bastard got tired.�

Faith averted her attention back to Ian. She stepped closer to him and called out his name, �Ian?� She gently cupped his cheek with her right hand, �Ian can you hear me?� He leaned into her hand. �Sara?� Faith grinned when she heard his voice calling out albeit calling out the wrong name. �No it�s me, Faith.� Ian tried to lift his head up but couldn�t. �Faith?� he whispered confusingly no doubt still under a delirium of agonizing pain. Faith cupped his chin and lifted his head until she could see his eyes. With her other hand Faith pushed aside strands of hair that were stuck against his sweated forehead and placed the loose locks behind his ear. She flinched at the large gash above his right eyebrow. The bleeding had stopped but there was blood everywhere. Blood had flowed from his nose and mouth, tainting his beard red.

�Ian I�m going to get you out of here, alright?� Ian�s eyes fluttered. �Faith?� his voice was still no louder then a whisper but it wasn�t at weary as before. The undertone of recognition was reassuring. �Are you going to be able to walk?� Faith wondered. Ian nodded his slightly and said, �Only if you help me.� Faith smiled, �Hey that�s what I�m here for.� Faith started to scan the room. She looked at Immo and asked, �Where are his clothes?�

�They�re in the lab. Do you want me to grab them?� Faith eyes shifted from Ian to Immo.

�No I�ll go. You stay here with Ian.�

�Don�t go!� Ian�s voice was full of concern and worry.

�Ian I�ll be right back. Dr. Immo is going to stay with you.�

�No! Let me down now.� Ian jerked at the chains the metal rattling echoed in the room.

�I can�t let you down now. It will be easier for me to dress you like this. I�ll be right back.� Faith nodded at Immo and ran down the hall to the lab. She burst into the lab and quickly found his clothes and shoes neatly piled on a table. She grabbed them, the medical bag, and the vile of antidote. Just as she was about to head out the door she spotted a wheelchair in a far corner. �That could prove useful.� She dumped the contents in her arms onto the seat and wheeled the chair back to the room.

Faith pushed the chair through the entrance and wheeled it to the side for later. �Here doctor take this.� Faith tossed the medical bag at Immo while she took Ian�s clothes and shoes. Setting the clothes on the floor, Faith took the pants and was about to dress Ian when Immo spoke of his shoulder, �Be careful of his back.� Faith narrowed her eyes in confusion. She dropped the pants to the floor and went around to glance at the damage done to Ian�s back. �Son of a bitch!� Faith�s mouth hung open while she stared shockingly. Ian�s back was a red canvas full with lines upon lines of marred flesh. Some of the slices weren�t as severe and she knew they would heal quickly. As she scanned the rest of Ian�s bloody back Faith could see that there were about four or five deep lacerations that needed stitching.

�He�s going to need some stitching.� Immo interjected stating the obvious while working on filling syringes with medication.

�I can see that Dr. Immo.� Faith answered back sarcastically. She moved back to and gathered Ian�s pants off the floor, then carefully putting them on.

�Do you want me to tend to those wounds now?� Immo asked while he dug into the bag searching for the appropriate instruments. �No� Faith replied then adding, �We don�t have much time. I�ll just have to do the stitching myself. For now I want you to wrap up his back so his clothes won�t stick.� Immo pulled out a roll of gauze and began to do as Faith instructed. After fastening his belt Faith began to work loosely on his shoes, not bothering to tie the laces all the way up. At the same time Immo had finished wrapping the bandage around Ian�s back.

Faith got up and motioned for the wheelchair, �bring that here so he has something to sit on while you lower him down.� Immo pushed the chair just behind Ian. He then walked over to an instrumental panel and pressed a button. The chains rattled as it began to slowly lower Ian onto the chair. Immo pressed a button again to stop the mechanism.
Ian suddenly pitched forward still a bit too weak to hold himself up. Faith quickly caught him before he fell out of the chair. She carefully eased him back mindful of his wounds.

�Alright Dr. Immo administer the antidote before I finish dressing him.� Faith moved to gather the rest of Ian�s clothes while Immo grabbed an alcohol pad. Standing on the left side of the wheelchair Immo, bent as the waist, held a firm grip on Ian�s wrist, turning it over to expose the underside of Ian�s forearm. He then used the alcohol pad to swab and sterilize the small area of his skin. Immo then reached for the syringe and held it firmly in his right hand. Just an inch away from inserting the needle into Ian�s arm a steel grip held him in place. Faith had reached over from the other side of the chair and grasped his wrist. Immo looked up into cold fear-some eyes. �Don�t make me regret trusting you, Dr. Immo.� Her voice held a dangerous undertone. Immo swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. If looks could kill Immo would have been a dead man.

She released her hold and Immo inserted the needle into Ian�s arm. He pushed on the syringe until the clear liquid emptied out into Ian. Immo began to swab the area again and reached back for another syringe. Before he proceeded he said, �This will help with his fever.� Faith nodded and Immo continued. He gently tossed the used syringes onto the table then helped Faith dress him in one of his long sleeve shirts, followed by his black trench coat. Finally they were ready to leave. Faith glanced at her watch it was already 3:50 A.M. �Damn� she thought she was taking too much time. They needed to hurry before anyone or worst Irons finds out she�s in the mansion rescuing Ian.

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