damned_institute | Nightshift 33: Disciplinary Therapy Room 4 (M-U for Shadow)

Shadow murmured in his sleep, his dreams confusing as he slowly woke. He didn't remember when he fell asleep or why, for that matter. The last thing that was clear was eating dinner in his room and waiting for the doors to unlock. Now, as his eyes slowly focused on the figure that was hovering over him, he realized that falling asleep before the end of the evening was probably not a good sign.

He tried to back away but found that he was strapped down to a bed, unable to move. Shadow gave the man above him a weak smile, hoping that there was some mistake. "Hello," he said. "Can I ask what I'm doing here and why I'm strapped down?"

"Improvement."

The one word was uttered with an almost maniacal glee. The doctor turned, reaching beyond the glow of the painfully bright lights. When his hand came back into view, there was a syringe held within it.

"We're going to make you as you should have been. Doesn't that sound nice?"

"Not really," Shadow replied, cringing at the sight of the needle. He could only guess where they were going to stick him and the thought of a sharp needle poking into him made his skin crawl. "I rather like how I am now, thanks. You can put that away. Whatever I did I, er, promise not to do it again."

"Oh, it isn't what you've done!" The doctor chuckled. The needle was plunged into a vial of greenish liquid, drawing it up into the syringe. "It's what you are. And what you should have been. The perfect canvas. I must say, I'm envious. Such efficiency! We could learn a great deal....."

He shook his head, as though waving those thoughts away.

"No matter. We can replicate. We will replicate. And you meet our criteria. The perfect specimen..... I will enjoy observing the improvements. Now lie still, this will hurt a great deal...."

Shadow didn't know what the man was babbling about but the tone of his voice caused panic to well up in the back of his throat. He struggled as the man moved his hand, pointing the tip of the needle towards his skin. "You don't need to do that," he said, trying to keep the panic from showing in his voice. "Couldn't we just talk? I'm sure I can give you what you need if you were to just ask me questions."

A laugh, unpleasant and eerie. The doctor didn't respond, simply slid the needle into Shadow's skin, at the base of his neck. The liquid burned, like acid being injected into the bloodstream.

"No words, Mr. Jenner. Just relax until it stops burning, and everything will be clear."

Shadow squeezed his eyes shut, biting the insides of his cheeks as he fought to keep from screaming. The sound that escaped was a muffled cry, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. He could get through this, he reminded himself trying to keep the panic from consuming him. He'd been through worse, after all. What could they do to him here? They wouldn't kill him, he was certain of that. They wouldn't go through all of the trouble to tie him down and talk about change just to kill him. He could survive whatever they had injected into his body. He would survive it.

As the injected liquid spread through Shadow's body, the room began to spin and twist. It warped and seemed to melt around him, a strange mockery of an Elven torture chamber superimposing itself over the treatment room. It was like two images in one, stone walls and strange implements from Evelon covering and merging with tile and medical instruments.

When Shadow dared to open his eyes he closed them quickly, the strange warping of the room making his stomach queasy. It was a dream, he told himself though he had never had a dream like this before. It would be gone when he opened his eyes. It was just a dream.

"Back with us already?" The cold, serpentine voice came out of the darkness, cruel and familiar. Movement, a shape against the light. Tall, broad shouldered, pale hair tied back in a braid and facial hair trimmed into a neat beard.

"I expected you to be unconscious a while longer. No matter. I am eager to begin."

The form of Lord Dyran advanced, the doctor gone, leaving Shadow alone with the ancient Elven Lord.

The voice sent shivers up Shadow's spine. It couldn't be. He was dead! He saw the explosion and heard that no one was found. Dyran couldn't still be alive. And yet, when Shadow opened his eyes, the el-Lord was standing in front of him, staring at him with the same dark expression he had always encountered when the elf chose to discipline him.

"My Lord," Shadow said, clearing his throat so that he could force himself into speaking. It was very difficult not to stare and start shouting at him that he was dead.

"I see you have some manners." Dyran snorted. "I have shown to much lenience. I have allowed my son to afford you luxuries no miserable human should be allowed. It is time you learned your place. And time he learned your place as well - at his heels, not in his bed."

Shadow licked his lips as he knew where this was leading, his mind rushing to find ways around the el-Lord's temper. He'd been in this position before though he had managed to avoid alerting Lord Dyran's attention to his relationship with Valyn. If the way he had reacted the last time he opened his mouth to defend Valyn then he was in for a rough night.

"My Lord," he said softly, though he didn't dare look away. He was afraid of Dyran but he wouldn't back away from a challenge. "Lord Valyn can make his own decisions which includes who invites to his bed. My place is wherever he deems it should be."

[Coming from here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/409812.html?thread=32784852#t32784852)]

Shana's expression was worried as she rushed into the room, knowing Keman and Valyn would be close behind. She was somewhat startled to see Shadow sitting so quiet and still and quickly skimmed her gaze over him, searching for injuries.

"Shadow! Are you alright?"

Something was wrong. Well, lots of things were wrong, but something in particular...

Keman hung back slightly, watching his friend. There was something different something that wasn't entirely Shadow about Shadow, and after the disaster with the mimic he was relying more on his instincts than normal.

Well, if Shadow was actually Not-Shadow, then it was better that Keman get hurt than Valyn or Shana. He walked closer, putting himself between Mero and his sister under the guise of checking on the boy.

"Shana, his nose," he said quietly. "It looks broken. Do you think you can heal it?"

Valyn kept his mouth shut still, questioning the lack of monsters but thankful for it. They had found Shadow, and whatever bastard of a prison guard had been set to work on him was nowhere in sight.

A pity. He had been hoping to bury his sword in the demon's throat.

Still deathly quiet and rigid, he shouldered his way past Shana and reached out to close a hand over Keman's shoulder and move him out of the way.

"Let me through."

Shadow raised his eyes briefly before looking back down. Neither of them were his Master so there was no need to acknowledge them. He sat quietly, waiting to be commanded as a good slave and servant should.

Inside his head, however, there was a flurry of thoughts struggling to break free. They were here! His friends had found him! It made him giddy and he wished he could brush their serious looks off, telling Shana that all the healing he would need would come from a kiss or two. It was fine, he wanted to shout at them. He'd suffered worse but all of the giddiness left the moment he saw Valyn's face.

His eyes lifted to Valyn and a flicker of understanding passed through them. "El-Lord," Shadow said before bowing his head low.

Ancestors, Shadow knew that was the wrong thing to say and he internally cringed. He beat at the mental cage that held him, wanting to break the conditioning but it was no use. He was helpless and forced to watch as Valyn did whatever he chose to do. Shadow just hoped that they all survived Valyn's temper when it was unleashed.

Shana blinked at Shadow's reply, her green gaze flickering between Valyn and the halfblood in confusion. That wasn't the reaction she'd been expecting, and judging from the look on Valyn's face, he was surprised as well.

"Shadow?" she tried again, wondering why he hadn't acknowledged any of them but Valyn, and with such a deferential tone. That wasn't like him at all!

"Are you feeling alright? What happened to you?"

All right, there was definitely something wrong. Shadow...had not sounded at all like Shadow, and Valyn sounded like his father. That was the most unsettling part about all of this.

Keman stepped out of the way and wrapped his arms around his foster sister.

If he needed to, he could grab her and run out of the room. Valyn was like a ticking bomb.

Valyn paused, standing in front of the strange metal table his cousin was seated on. He took in the bruises and blood, and mentally took a deep breath. Why in the name of the ancestors had Shadow reacted like that? Was he truly so wrapped up in his emotions that he gave that impression?

He steeled himself as best he could and reached out to place a gentle hand on his cousin's shoulder.

"Shadow?" he asked, his voice devoid of emotion still but sounding slightly calmer. "Shadow, it's me. Valyn. What ever happened in here, you're safe now. Look at me, please."

I know, Val. I know it's you. Just, see past this. I'm still here. Please. See that I'm still here!

Shadow looked up as he was commanded but his eyes were distant. They recoginzed Valyn as his master but nothing more then that. The happy, cheerful gaze was gone and in it's place was a stranger, cold and scared if not unfeeling.

"I know who you are, my lord," Shadow replied. "Your servant is here. Is there anything that you wish of me?"

"Shadow..." Shana murmured in confusion mingled with a growing dread. She knew who he sounded like. Or rather, what he sounded like. But that was impossible. They weren't prisoners of the elves here. This place was different. It might be horrible, but...

Still, when Keman stepped close and put his arms about her, she shrunk back into his embrace for a moment, green eyes horrified. What had they done to him? Glancing worriedly at Valyn's face, she didn't dare voice that question aloud.

Keman's hands gripped Shana's arms almost tight enough to bruise. He'd never actually seen it done--even during his time masquerading as a young Elven lord--but he'd heard rumors about what happened to particularly willful slaves.

They weren't killed. They were Changed.

But how could that happen to Shadow? (Had it even happened to Shadow?) He was supposed to be stronger than that. He'd lived under Lord Dyran for sixteen years. He'd managed to fight Triana's glamorie (though with the help of a male concubine with anger management problems, admittedly). He...was better than that.

It had to be some sort of really tasteless joke, right?

"Mero...this isn't funny. You got us. Clever trick. Now...snap out of it."

Valyn nodded, slowly. The blank look, the subservient reactions, the formality....

He knew exactly what this place had done to Shadow, and he knew it was no joke. He straightened up, rigid, anger flashing through his eyes and signaling the breaking of his carefully cultivated calm.

Without a word, only a deep drawing of breath, Valyn's arm lashed out and he overturned a metal stand with enough force to send it skittering across the room. The anger remained in his eyes and his shoulders heaved, and that mask of statuesque coldness was gone.

Shadow. His Shadow. Who he had rescued and protected and loved and given his life for....

They had no right. As the anger continued to build he lashed out at whatever he could, whatever strange bits of furniture remained in the room, releasing his anger the only way he knew how.

With destruction.

Shadow didn't react to Valyn's anger. He merely gazed back down at the floor, his shoulders pulling in on himself. A slave did as his master commanded even if that master was prone to fits of rage. He would stay until commanded otherwise.

But inside his head he cried out in alarm as he saw Valyn break, throwing the place into disarray. Get out, he tried to tell Keman and Shana. Leave him be. You can't stop him when gets like this. Let his rage boil down. He won't hurt me.

And even if Valyn did lash out at him Shadow would eagerly take it. No, it wasn't the servant part or the bits that obeyed that would make him stand as Valyn's anger turned on him. He understood that while Valyn's temper seemed merciless the elf would never truly hurt him, despite what Lord Dyran thought. He was still Valyn's Shadow, culled or not. It still meant something.

Val, I'm still here, he silently pleaded as he heard objects around him crash. Please see that I haven't completely left you.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject