“Say it,” Treize repeated calmly, pushing steadily down. He leaned forward, his jacket brushing against his knees, and pressed the handle of the riding crop into the soft flesh beneath Duo’s jaw.
“No...” All the breath was forced from his lungs, now, as Duo Maxwell fought a losing battle for air. “Stop...”
“Why should I?” Treize ground his heel into Duo’s chest. There was a liquid popping sound as one rib snapped, then another, under the inexorably growing pressure.
Duo’s eyes squeezed closed, as he jerked convulsively from the agony in his chest. “Stop... mas... ter...” he whimpered with the last escaping wisp of air.
A small smile appeared on Treize’s face, lips curling just slightly in his victory. “Good boy, Duo,” he murmured. He gave Duo’s matted hair a dismissive pat, pressing his full weight against the broken ribs, before he levered himself backwards. Duo’s lungs filled with a shuddering gasp, and he panted for air, feeling the liquid fire of his new broken ribs stabbing with every breath. His world spun with agony and shame, momentarily drowning everything -- even his all-consuming hatred for Treize Khushrenada. They’re dead, they’re all dead, and I failed them, a self-recriminating voice wailed. I was right in front of him, the knife was in my hand, and I failed, I failed!
His vision was hazy; he felt more than saw Khushrenada’s receding back. He was saying something, but the words addressed to the soldiers flew past Duo’s numbed ears. The agonizing pressure on his joints finally eased, and he felt rope jerk around his wrists and ankles. Then they weren’t going to kill him like the others, after all, Duo realized bleakly; they were going to keep him captive, at least for now. Duo forced his thoughts to a halt, fighting against the inexorable tide of despair. Wait. Wait. I’m not dead yet. And sooner or later they’ll get tired of watching me. And then I can escape, maybe, start over somewhere, I don’t know. I just have to survive this a little while, a few days, a week at most.
Sooner or later they’ll get careless. They will. And then I’ll be free.
Re: To the Victor
Date: 2006-02-27 11:12 pm (UTC)“Say it,” Treize repeated calmly, pushing steadily down. He leaned forward, his jacket brushing against his knees, and pressed the handle of the riding crop into the soft flesh beneath Duo’s jaw.
“No...” All the breath was forced from his lungs, now, as Duo Maxwell fought a losing battle for air. “Stop...”
“Why should I?” Treize ground his heel into Duo’s chest. There was a liquid popping sound as one rib snapped, then another, under the inexorably growing pressure.
Duo’s eyes squeezed closed, as he jerked convulsively from the agony in his chest. “Stop... mas... ter...” he whimpered with the last escaping wisp of air.
A small smile appeared on Treize’s face, lips curling just slightly in his victory. “Good boy, Duo,” he murmured. He gave Duo’s matted hair a dismissive pat, pressing his full weight against the broken ribs, before he levered himself backwards. Duo’s lungs filled with a shuddering gasp, and he panted for air, feeling the liquid fire of his new broken ribs stabbing with every breath. His world spun with agony and shame, momentarily drowning everything -- even his all-consuming hatred for Treize Khushrenada. They’re dead, they’re all dead, and I failed them, a self-recriminating voice wailed. I was right in front of him, the knife was in my hand, and I failed, I failed!
His vision was hazy; he felt more than saw Khushrenada’s receding back. He was saying something, but the words addressed to the soldiers flew past Duo’s numbed ears. The agonizing pressure on his joints finally eased, and he felt rope jerk around his wrists and ankles. Then they weren’t going to kill him like the others, after all, Duo realized bleakly; they were going to keep him captive, at least for now. Duo forced his thoughts to a halt, fighting against the inexorable tide of despair. Wait. Wait. I’m not dead yet. And sooner or later they’ll get tired of watching me. And then I can escape, maybe, start over somewhere, I don’t know. I just have to survive this a little while, a few days, a week at most.
Sooner or later they’ll get careless. They will. And then I’ll be free.
~owari~