Instinct - Chapter Eight -- Witchblade Karma

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Date Posted: 12:58:44 05/31/02 Fri
Author: moondreamer
Subject: Instinct - Chapter Eight
In reply to: moondreamer 's message, "Instinct" on 11:51:56 05/22/02 Wed

Chapter 8

Disclaimer: The Witchblade, the movie, the series, the comics and all the characters all belong to Top Cow Productions, Warner Bros., TNT & whoever else has their hand in the cookie jar. Obviously, not me. These are only my fantasies based on their characters that I hope others will enjoy.

Sara gritted her teeth and gathered her tattered will. Mentally resisting with everything she had in her the sirens call of The Witchblade and the vision it wanted her to see.

�Well, that Mr. Irons, is the question isn�t it? How could I imagine you capable of such things?�

Sara wanted to continue her questioning, she felt she was very close to something, she wasn�t quite sure what. But, every time Kenneth Irons became this smooth, she knew something was up. However, her need to know was battling with her ability to resist The Witchblade, and losing.

�Excuse me for a moment, Mr. Irons, could you possibly direct me to a restroom. I�m feeling a trifle unwell.� Putting her hand to her forehead Sara was unaware of how much truth her appearance gave her last statement. The combinations of the late night, whiskey, raging headache, and confusion and now the insistent demands of The Witchblade were definitely giving her complexion a slightly green cast.

A momentary look of surprise crossed Kenneth Irons� face. Of everything Sara Pezzini had ever asked of him, this was the most unexpected. But, he recovered quickly, the itching of the small circles on the back of his letting him know what was really going on.

�Certainly, my dear. We can always continue our discussions. Possibly, later over dinner?� His smile became a trifle smug. Between the cameras he knew were positioned in the Ladies Rooms, and his own ability to lead a conversation, he was confident he would soon discover what The Witchblade wanted to show Sara.

�Ian.� He commanded sharply. �Assist our fair Sara, if you please. I will send a car for you later, my dear. Until then.� Turning on his heel, the magnate left the room, heading swiftly for his office where he could choose which security camera to monitor.

The other Ian walked slowly up to Sara. The mockery and lust with which he had so far regarded her was gone from his face. In its place was a strange concern; as if he was not sure himself from where it came. Putting his arm around her shoulders he began to walk her down the hallway. Sara stiffened at first, then leaned gratefully against his strength when she realized the sincerity of his action. The dizziness she was feeling had only intensified the longer she had tried to resist the pull of the vision, and she really was feeling quite ill at this point. When they reached the doorway to the Ladies Room she moved away from him, neither of them had spoken.

Once the door shut behind her Sara moved to the sinks and reached down to turn on the faucets and splash cold water on her face. She closed her eyes and leaned over the sink, feeling the cool granite counter beneath her hands fade as the vision swept over her with blinding force.

*-*-*-*-*

She was in some type of laboratory. There were glass vials, microscopes, tables, cabinets and equipment of varying sizes and unknown usage. Ian, her Ian, she believed, was strapped down on one of the tables. He was naked from what she could see, except for a small drape placed over him, and he was struggling against his bonds. An older man, possibly a doctor of some kind, was removing a syringe from his arm, obviously having just pumped its ingredients into Ian�s unwilling veins.

Kenneth Irons walked into her view. He stared down at Ian with an expression of distaste, his hands folded over top of his cane.

�All my hard work and efforts gone to waste Ian. Your passion and devotion to Sara Pezzini, while touchingly apparent, has caused you to become a liability. One, I am afraid, I cannot afford. Rest assured though, that your replacement and I will watch over our fair Sara for you.� Ian was unable to answer him due to the gag in his mouth, but the glare in his eyes was inescapable. �Don�t waste your glances on me young Nottingham� Irons stated coldly. �This bed is of your own making.�

Kenneth Irons turned and looked at the other man. �Go ahead and prepare the transfer of data. I want his replacement up to speed as soon as possible.�

�There is a problem with the retrieval apparatus. It won�t fit over his beard.�

Irons sighed wearily. �Then shave it off you dolt! It doesn�t matter what this Ian looks like anymore, he is no longer useful to me. His replacement will need a full download. Let me know when the procedure is completed. I will be in my office.�

Sara watched in horror as the Doctor brought out an electric shaver and proceeded to remove the beard from Ian. The man seemed upset at what he was having to do, and murmured soothingly to Ian as he worked. His words didn�t seem to reassure Ian who continued to struggle mightily. Once the man finished with the removal of Ian�s beard he brought out a translucent facemask with a large number of wires and connections from one of the machines. He placed it over Ian�s face and turned back to the machine, flipping various switches. Returning to stand by Ian�s side he placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

�I am sorry it has come to this, Ian. You always were my favorite of the boys. But, I can do nothing but what Kenneth wishes. If you relax yourself, it will go easier.�

He hesitated, and it appeared as if he would say something else, but a noise from the next room interrupted him. Voices called to him and he exited the room swiftly.

Once he realized he was alone Ian closed his eyes, summoning what appeared to be a supreme effort. Though he was unable to speak Sara could see the cords of muscle in his throat and arms tighten as he exerted enough force to snap the bond that held his left wrist. Moving as if every joint hurt he swiftly removed the rest of his bonds and fell from the table to the floor with a thud that seemed to echo through his pain wracked body. He ripped the facemask off and Sara heard an alarm start beeping. He next removed the gag and let it drop to the floor. Practically crawling, he made his way over to a chair where his clothes lay, uncaring of the equipment and medical supplies that were thrown to the floor by his passage. Using the chair for support he pulled himself upright by what appeared to be sheer will only. It hurt Sara to watch him move so clumsily, she was so used to his panther like grace. She tried to move forward, as if to help him up, only to realize that she couldn�t touch him, she wasn�t really there.

Ian put on the bare minimum of clothing, every movement seeming to drain more of strength. Finally dressed he moved quietly to the door, looking both ways down the hallway he disappeared from her sight.

Sara stood beside the chair, trembling in horror at what she had just seen. Now, she knew who the other Ian was. His replacement. The coldness with which Kenneth Irons had dismissed his loyal servant shook her. This must be what occurred that night that Ian appeared in her kitchen. But what was in the syringe, what had they given him?

Running swiftly, the Doctor and several others wearing white coats ran into the room, summoned by the alarm going off. They stared in horror at the facemask on the floor.

�Turn it off, turn it off! My god, what�s happened here?� They milled out helplessly until the Doctor shouted out �Contact Mr. Irons immediately. Tell him we have a situation.�

Sara stood there locked in her vision. She could hear the alarms going off in the building now; hear the sound of feet rushing as security people ran through the halls. She wondered what more did The Witchblade want her to witness when Kenneth Irons came back into the room.

�Imbeciles! Incompetents! For this I pay you a fortune over the years? What has happened here? Dr. Immo, I thought the drug you gave him caused paralysis? How did he escape?� Kenneth Irons paced the length of the room in an icy rage, kicking the debris before him.

�It does Kenneth, I don�t know how he managed to move. He won�t get far I am afraid. He should be dead with hours. The virus will be attacking his DNA as we speak, breaking it down.�

�There is nothing that will counteract your little medical miracle?�

�Only alcohol will have an effect on the virus. And you know that Ian has never touched the stuff as you have ordered. He would not think to try any now.�

�Hmm�one can only hope. However, we didn�t think he would be able to get away either. A larger concern to me is this; how much of the data transfer was completed?�

The Doctor looked unhappily in Irons� direction.

�That is a bigger problem Kenneth. We were only able to download for a few moments. I believe we have transferred the lower level emotions and knowledge from Ian. But, I am afraid that most of the higher levels were not transferred.�

�Translated this means what?� The exasperation was evident in Irons� voice.

�It means, whatever base emotions Ian felt, love, hate, fear; the replacement will have those. But that is where it ends. He may lack the understanding to know what to do with those emotions. I am concerned, Kenneth, he needed the rest of the download to counteract his higher aggression levels.�

�Obviously, he won�t be getting it will he Doctor? If Ian is out there dying, as we speak, our work is done. Will there be a body?�

�No, the virus will completely break his cellular structure down. Over enough time, there should be nothing left.�

�Well then, we must move forward with the tools we have at hand don�t we, my good Doctor?�

*-*-*-*-*

Slowly the vision dimmed from Sara�s mind and she could see her face in the mirror over the sinks. She had wanted answers, and The Witchblade had supplied them with a vengeance. Her equilibrium restored, and her will strengthened by her newly acquired knowledge, Sara wiped the water off her face. Leaving the restroom she strode swiftly out into the hallway and out of the building.

Once outside, she picked up her cell and dialed Gabriel.

�Gabe, How�s he doing? No Change? Listen, I need you to look in my lower left kitchen cupboard. There�s another bottle of whiskey there. I need you to pour as much of it as you can down Ian�s throat.�

Sara held the telephone away from her ears as Gabe�s response came through loud and clear.

�I know it sounds odd, but I really need you to do this for me. I�m on my way, and I�ll explain when I get there.�

Sara turned off her phone and got on the bike. Unaware of the two sets of eyes watching her from different parts of the building. One pair of icy blue and one pair of rich brown eyes, both with identical expressions of want, albeit for far different reasons, followed her as she drove away.

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Replies:

My withdrawls may have abated but that only left me.... -- Spin (hm..what other offerings can I give you??), 13:43:36 05/31/02 Fri
good twists (NT) -- mx, 16:07:17 05/31/02 Fri