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Come Undone CH.4

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CHAPTER FOUR
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DETERMINATION

There was no method of timekeeping in his cell - Not a single thing that would've allowed Johnny the knowledge of how long he'd been trapped. No clocks, no watches, not even a set of digitally projected wall-numbers. In fact, the only electrical objects he even had in his room were the pot-lights mounted into his ceiling, and those never even turned off. Couldn't even reach them, really, not even if he moved the bed - which was bolted to the wall and wouldn't move regardless.
Johnny could, thusly, only guess as to how much time had passed, the hours and minutes and maybe even days blending together, especially sine he didn't sleep. It felt like he'd been there for days, but that couldn't be right; he didn't feel that different from when he first woke up.
For the most part, Johnny was content with meditating on his bed, only deciding to do so in the first place as it was one of precious few methods he had of killing time. It worked fairly well, or at least, seemed to – until the door to his cell slid open, vanishing into the wall with a slight 'whooshing' noise.
Three men stood there; two in some kind of armor, the third in simply a lab-coat – obviously a scientist. That same man held a gun of some sort; it looked similar to the tranquilizer guns that had been used on him before, and that meant it probably did the same thing. But Johnny was loath to merely sit and patiently wait for them to shoot him with whatever it did contain, whether it be glorified sedative or simple bullets. So, he stood; falling easily into a defensive stance. Or, at least, as defensive as he could possibly get with his arms as bound as they were.

"This is certainly a lot of effort being out into killing me, you know." He said, watching the three men carefully. "A lot of unnecessary effort, if you ask me. If you wanted me dead, why not just shoot me from the get-go? Would have been a whole lot easier than... this." He tailed his gaze across the room in place of gesturing with his hands, though the straightjacket didn't stop the maniac from trying to move his arms appropriately, either way.
As it turned out, that was the exact wrong thing to do – not because it angered the men, but because it gave them an opportunity. The two armored men ran forwards, tackling into Johnny and holding him tightly to the wall. Surprised, Johnny screeched, struggling violently – but without the use of his arms, his jerks and kicks did practically nothing. Not that the men didn't flinch, or grunt from pain. They just didn't let go, their grips not faltering even once as he tried to attack them.

Johnny's eyes grew steadily wider as the man wielding the gun came closer. He wasn't used to experiencing such... helplessness. And deep inside, he knew that they couldn't mean to kill him – at the very least, not quite so immediately. If these men truly wanted him dead, they wouldn't have gone to such trouble as stalking him for years, then capturing him and trapping him here, in this cell. They would've just... killed him. It made no sense.

"Hold him still!" Gun-toting scientist exclaimed, walking closer – too close. Johnny growled viciously at the proximity, narrowing his eyes to slits and headbutting the man as hard as he could, once the man got close enough, got within range and thusly far too close for comfort.
Though the tough mask on his face undoubtedly made the strike far more painful for the scientist, it seemed to do little outside of making the man stumble backwards a few feet – and caused one of the men holding Johnny to the wall to jerk, clapping an arm over Johnny's throat and making it nearly impossible to breath, or even swallow without gagging and fuck that hurt too!
Forgetting for a moment that he wanted these people to let him go, Johnny gagged once before wheezing, desperately fighting to fill his lungs with the air that he was being denied. Then he felt cold metal against his neck and tried vainly to get away, but he couldn't – he was being held against the wall by two people twice his size and had nowhere he could go without the power of intangibility, which he didn't have. Nor had he ever had it.

Johnny felt a stinging in his neck, then against his will, relaxed his muscles. What? A muscle relaxant?! That... that was dirty, low... And to be expected. If he could fight sleep, then they had no reason to try and force him into it with little darts. It was simply an ineffective use of resources, especially if it took three darts to push him under and who knew how long for it to wear off. Though, that wasn't precisely a bad thing for them, but the fact they weren't meant that they either needed him conscious, or couldn't risk having such an amount of drugs pumping through him. They wanted to do tests.

"Basss...tard." Johnny muttered thickly as the pressure against his throat was lifted. No longer supporting his own weight, Johnny knew that the only reason he was upright at all was because of the guards holding him up. Otherwise he'd probably be in a crumpled mess on the floor.
Their... leader, Johnny supposed, knelt down after a while, chuckling as he stared at the limp Johnny, a smile on his face.

"You're an interesting one, hmm?" The man said. "That drug we shot you with in your house? We thought we'd designed it to work especially on you – that you resisted two of them is very intriguing. You hold more promise than initially estimated." He nudged the maniac with his boot – Johnny jerked in response, the best he could muster with the relaxant forcing him out of control of his own body.

"You... can't keep... me here." He panted out. "S-sooner or... later, I will get out." And that was a promise.

"Alright." The man said, after nudging Johnny again and receiving no response apart from a heated glare. "He should be safe now. Follow me." The two guards nodded, holding Johnny up and walking along behind the Scientist man. Johnny narrowed his eyes at how the man blatantly ignored him, and though Johnny's mind was screeching at his body to move, to stop being so lay and get up – he couldn't. Could barely keep his head upright.
And he had to keep his head upright – for all he knew, this would be the only chance he got to examine what this damned facility looked like beyond the interior of his cell.

Pristine white walls dotted with strange-looking doors greeted Johnny as the scientist led him -dragged, technically- down the corridors of the facility, which was looking more and more like a hospital that ate a prison with each passing second. He knew right off that there would be few to no identifying marks, and with a grunt he dedicated all the concentration he had on memorizing the turns that were taken on their walk through the corridors of this strange place. He had, on more than one occasion, had to do this for his basement, when it's twists and turns and trapdoors because so numerous that memorization was the only answer. He was rather good at it, but it was more difficult if he didn't have any identifying marks with which to pin to certain places. It was a nice alternative, he supposed, to not being able to remember most of his personal life.

The scientists didn't talk to him – and he liked it that way. It was far easier to remember a string of different turns when you weren't being interrupted every few feet. Not even he would have been able to concentrate hard enough to memorize such a string of twists and turns with three men yammering on to him.
When the men stopped walking however, Johnny glanced up – noticing with some delight that the motion was considerably easier now than it had been earlier. Was the drug wearing off? He certainly hoped so – escaping would be much easier if he was able to move.
As a test, he tried moving his hands. Sure, they were jammed into sleeves and tied tightly to his back, but he could still move them, to an extent. Well, when not drugged. Much to his pleasure, movement came to him easily. Stiff, but easy.
They entered a plain room with white walls – identical to the walls of the outside hallways. Hadn't these people ever heard of colored paint before?

"So what do you... want with me?" Johnny asked, grateful that it wasn't quite so hard to breath anymore. Discreetly, he shifted his legs positions, testing how well he could move, as the two men dragged him over to a dentist-looking chair off to the side of the room, placing him into it before leaving – only the scientist had stayed. The maniac noticed with some glee that no straps had been done up, nothing aside from his straightjacket impeding his movement, and that was only his arms.
The scientist turned, grinning lightly.

"What, and ruin the surprise? Our boss wants to tell you himself." The man turned to a computer, activating some program on it. "Not immediately, of course – right now, we just need your statistics. Everything needs to be set up just right." Johnny watched as the scientist moved over to a machine that sat next to the computer he'd just been typing on, doing something that caused it to start up with a light hum. Most likely, it was going to be used on him, was what the scientist was going to use to measure out the statistics he wanted.
Shifting again, Johnny smiled underneath the mask on his face – whatever they had injected him with was wearing off. This was good – it wasn't likely he'd get a chance this good again. For all he knew, it would only take the one day to get whatever the scientist needed to set everything up for the actual experimentation. So, if he wanted to break out, it was more than likely now or never. And now was feeling pretty good. With the scientist distracted by the machine before him, thinking that the maniac behind him was totally immobilized, it would be the perfect time to attack. And with his arms bound, he really had only one method of attack.

Carefully, Johnny slid off the chair, standing up and watching the scientist for a moment. He didn't know what, precisely, the machine would do to him, but he was loath to let the man do anything to him. And fuck if he'd let these scientist perform experiments on him like some sort of lab rat.
Then, the scientist turned around, and both men widened their eyes. Johnny had not expected the man to turn so quickly – if at all, while the scientist obviously had not expected the supposed-to-be-drugged maniac to be up and walking around.
Without thinking, but not complaining at his sudden motion, Johnny kicked the man in his stomach as hard as he could. Not wasting the moment, he tackled the scientist before he could yell out for help, pleased when the man toppled to the floor. The scientist narrowed his eyes, and opened his mouth – likely to try and call for help – but Johnny beat him to the punch, pressing his foot -encased in boots that were not his, he noticed- to the mans neck, and leaned in close.

"Normally, I'd do this with a knife – so much easier that way – but since you have deprived me of this, my most effective method of attack, we'll have to do this the old fashioned way." Johnny grinned maliciously, pressing his boot tighter against his captors throat until the man, struggling violently for the oxygen that his lungs were being so viciously deprived of, finally went limp. Even then, Johnny remained in that position for some time, until he was absolutely certain that the man was completely and thoroughly dead. And even if the man awoke again, he would most definitely have severe brain damage. And that was certainly good enough for him. Brain-damaged scientists could not give chase to homicidal maniacs. It just... couldn't happen. So, it was a win-win situation; this man would definitely not be a problem anymore.

For a moment, Johnny struggled with the straightjacket. The last time he'd been in one of these things, it hadn't been made for somebody of his size, so it had been relatively easy to slip out of. This one... this one had been designed with him specifically in mind. There would be no 'slipping out'.

"Oh well." He said "I'll just get Squee to cut me out when I get back home. Giving his arms one final jerk, Johnny ducked out of the room through the not-quite-shut door, and ran. And, he thought, anybody who was unfortunate enough to run into him would not go without receiving some kind of injury. He would make certain of it.
Chapter four - a little giftie for you, my watchers. :D

Finished up just in time for Yuletide. Not to imply that this was only recently written, oh no. I'm currently writing chapter nine, you lot still have five completely-finished chapters ahead of you, that I have to type up and improve upon. =p

After this chapter, we switch back to Devi, and her oh-so-wonderful pure-filler chapters. I'm sorry if Devi's chapters are boring or repetitive - I didn't intend for her side to be so slow-going.
I guess it doesn't help that, more often than not, the summaries I've written for these chapters are all of one sentence long. For example - the summary for this chapter? "Johnny plans escape". Nothing big, grand or fantastic. What I've written down is the chapter summary in it's most basic form, as the one, most important plot bit. So, if a chapter feels like it's merely repeating information from previous ones, I apologize.
I am trying to bring in hints at what's going on in the city now Johnny's been captured, however. His capture, to spoil slightly, has affected the city, and I'm trying to have Devi slowly realize this, through personal experience and the experiences of others that are relayed to her by those people. I just feel I'm doing horribly at it. :/


Anyways; Happy holidays, folks!
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Natdor's avatar
S'cuse me. Where is da rest? Do you want me to throw a tantrum and cry like a two year old?