Days later, Artemis had to subdue the gratitude he felt towards Alastair when the torture started again. Pain was something, and something was better than nothing. Infinitely so.
The gratitude was new but growing stronger by the day and for things as simple as being allowed to wear clothes, not being left alone, and both when the pain subsided and when it started.
He knew what was happening. He knew. He just didn’t want to think about it.
Alastair was one of the only people he interacted with and slowly but surely Artemis began to look forward to his arrival. He tried his best to feel angry, he really did, but even that was slowly but surely being whittled away.
Artemis was fading away, being replaced with… something else. He didn’t know what it was, but in his more lucid moments, he knew it wasn’t him.
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“You’re going to have to choose for me. Electric shocks or simulations.” Alastair said sounding sympathetic.
Artemis had learned early on how bad the simulations were, for hours he was forced to watch ever escalating scenarios do his family and friends dying and in pain. Watching his little brothers bleed out on the floor had made for one of the worst moments of his life. Artemis didn’t hesitate, “Shocks. Not the simulations, please not the sims.”
Alastair smiled knowingly. With a wave of Alastair’s hand, the table he was on was metal and hooked up to electrical wiring. Alastair raised a hand to Artemis’ cheek, “Of course.”
“Thank you.” Artemis said woodenly, desperately trying to feel like he didn’t mean it.
The first shock was short, but left Artemis writhing, nonetheless.
Alastair took his hand and squeezed comfortingly, and Artemis squeezed back because, damn it, he was hurting and scared, and it felt nice.
Another shock wracked him and held Alastair’s had tighter.
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The pain had stopped. Artemis sat slumped in the chair, bracing himself for another wave; it never came.
“It’s over, you did so well.” Alastair said, unstrapping him from the chair and helping him to his feet
Alastair clicked his fingers and a bed materialised on the corner of the room then deposited Artemis’ limp frame on it.
Artemis shook and started to cry. Alastair shushed him, “Hey you’re alright, it’s okay.”
Shaking him off, Artemis shook his head, “It’s not okay. Nothing about this is okay.” He staggered to his feet and sank to the floor across the room, “You have tortured me for… I don’t know- I don’t know how long and- and now you’re acting like that never happened and I don’t hate you. I should but I don’t. Why are you doing this? Why don’t you just kill me?” His voice broke with emotion toward the end.
Alastair remained impassive, still sitting on the bed, “To tell the truth? We did need you for something before. But now? it’s just because I want to.”
Something in Artemis snapped at those words and his shoulders began to shake.
Alastair hunkered down next to him and shushed him, “Hey, calm down sweetheart. Because now I’m going to punish you for your little tantrum, and there’s no need to make things worse for yourself.”
And that was when Artemis knew he’d made a mistake.
A chain snaked up from the ground, securing around his wrists and ankles, rendering him immobile just as a blindfold materialised in front of him and wrapped around his head, blinding him.
Not again. “Not this, not again. Please.” Artemis implored Alastair, “I’m sorry, just don’t-”
Footsteps echoed around the room as Alastair left and bolted the door. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t move and he was in the dark again. He began to hyperventilate.
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Alastair pocketed his phone, his mood thoroughly soured. The last time he had been to earth was 1941 to pitch his ‘final solution’ plan to Adolf. Odd man, very insecure about his height.
He flagged an intern down, (Meg), “I’ll be detained for a while, I’ve been summoned to the icebox, you’ll be in charge of my projects in the meantime.”
Meg rubbed her hands together, “, That is good, I get to road test some of my new nicknames. Arty-kins isn’t one of my strongest, but it’ll annoy him.”
Alastair raised an eyebrow, confused, “What are you talking about Meg?”
Meg looked down, “Nothing sir. Sorry, got distracted.”
A slow smile creeped onto Alastair’s face, “Actually… I may take Fowl with me. I just had an idea. Have fun, try not to destroy the house while I’m out.”
“No promises.” Meg muttered
“What?” Alastair asked, having not heard.
Meg played dumb, “What?”
Alastair briefly considered her then walked away.
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Artemis tried to breath evenly. It was no use. Everything was so dark under his blindfold, and he was tied to the bed, he was completely defenceless
The door opened and he fidgeted in his bonds. Footsteps came closer to the bed, but Artemis was too scared to speak, something that was becoming more commonplace these days.
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“Artemis, change of plans I’m afraid, we’re going on a short trip. I expect you to be good.”
Artemis was almost scared to ask, “Where?”
“Earth. Wisconsin to be specific.”
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Alastair refused to take Artemis’ blindfold off, even when they stepped into the doorway to the living world.
The blindfold was finally taken off as he was pushed into a room with a bed and a bathroom. Artemis sat trying to plan… something.
Shortly afterward Alastair walked into the room, a spring in his step and presented a pill and a bottle of water to Artemis, “I want to watch you take it.”
Artemis looked at it. It was white and small and was certainly not prescription, “What is it?”
Alastair didn’t answer, “Take it now, or I will shove it down your throat for you.”
He could hide it under his tongue… but Alastair would check and then… things would get worse. Why was he taking it? He took the pill and raised a sweaty hand to his mouth, swallowed it with a gulp of water.
“Good boy.” Alastair told him, handing him a blanket.
Artemis looked at the blanket. He hadn’t been allowed even a pillow for as long he had been here. Another fresh wave of gratitude washed over him, which was stupid. It was a necessity, Alastair had kept him here, Artemis shouldn’t feel grateful for this. He shouldn’t. Nonetheless, he should still say, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Alastair said, indulgently. As if Artemis should be grateful. “Lie down.” He instructed.
Artemis complied, and a short time later Alastair left. His thoughts strayed to means of escape but his interest slowly ebbed away. Who cared? Who cared if he stayed here? Maybe Alastair would finally let him die. He just didn’t care…
Dazed he stared at the ceiling. He wasn’t stupid, he knew it was a side effect of whatever Alastair had given him. The ceiling was a dull grey but the longer he stared it danced in shades of blue, red, and purple. The floor melted into the walls, all melding in bright colours. He laughed, with a detached kind of glee, he was floating, far, far above.
He felt heavy, even if he wanted to move, he doubted he could.
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He woke, bleary eyed, feeling a pressure in his head, as though he was underwater. His head pounded and colours still danced on periphery of his vision. He was laying on his side head spinning but aware enough to know he wasn’t alone.
It was dark, the light must be turned off, he though dazedly.
A myriad of concerning sounds reached his ears. The shuffling of shoes on concrete, a struggle, a yelp that died down into a pained mewl.
Artemis’ eyes took a while to adjust to the dark room but when they did, he wished he hadn’t woken up.
A boy was lying on the floor, his hands cuffed underneath him, clothes dispatched in the corner. Alastair straddled his hips a hot poker in hand, burning his stomach. The smell of scorched flesh drifted across the room.
The drug was still in effect, but the screams tugged on his heartstrings now, the numbness gone. There was no point in trying to help him. Still, the boy screamed. Artemis closed his eyes.
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Eventually, it was over. Alastair uncuffed the boy’s wrists, then left.
The sounds of hopeless sobbing fill the quiet cell.
Artemis wonders whether the kid knows he’s there or whether he thinks he’s alone. Whichever way, he doesn’t utter a word.
The light flicked on.
The boy was blond, still unclothed, and had eyes that held all the qualities of a shell-shocked soldier. The crying stopped, the kid staring at Artemis, shocked. The boy glanced over at his discarded clothes in the corner but was clearly in too much pain to move.
Feeling stupid, Artemis scrambled over to the pile of clothes and handed them to the boy. Artemis turned away while the boy pulled on his clothes with a rustle of fabric and several pained wheezes. The boy curls up on the floor where his is.
They both hear the lock click and the door open. All eyes are on the door. The boy is sprawled and propped up on one elbow, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.
Alastair walked into the room, a box under his arm and a hand in his pocket. He walked calmly towards the boy on the floor and-
Artemis couldn’t process what he was seeing. It happened too fast.
Alastair pulled out a switchblade and buried it into the boy’s stomach. Once, twice, and a third time.
Christ, there’s so much blood. He had seen his bodyguard shot before, but this was different because he was in his right mind and he had Holly, but now…
His head hurt, colours were still dancing on the periphery of his vision, and he was… fuzzy.
Artemis staggers back, “What did you do? What did you…” He was high. He was high and he was scared, and this was too much, “Ali, he’s going to die, he’s gonna-”
Alastair dropped the knife and the box, and took Artemis shoulders in blood caked hands, “Why did you let that happen?”
Artemis was confused, “I didn’t…I don’t-” He didn’t let anything happen. He’s scared and foggy and probably in shock.
…Did he? Artemis wasn’t sure anymore.
Alastair shook his head sadly, “It doesn’t matter, you have to fix it, you have to make it right. You see the box?”
Artemis nods.
“Open it.” Alastair orders.
Artemis dropped to his knees next to the boy who was still making those pained whimpers. He looked at the box, it was a first aid kit.
“You should fix him before he bleeds out.” Alastair said. “Don’t want a death on your conscience,” And with that he casually leaned against the wall.
Artemis’ mind was still foggy, but he understood. If this was his fault, then he should fix it. The boy was taking rattling breaths in between crying like a scared child.
Artemis wasn’t good with his hands, but he tried his best to stitch the wound back up. It was messy and bloody and the boy wouldn’t stop screaming and bucking the entire time.
“I’m sorry.” Artemis muttered, “I’m so sorry.” But when has I’m sorry ever been enough.
This is his fault
He let this happen.
He should have done something.
The boy struggled and cried, and Artemis hand slipped.
Artemis held the boy still, “I’m trying to help you. Stay still.” He needs the boy to understand. The boy squirms and screams and Artemis can’t get a good grip on the needle “Stay still.” He pleads, “, stay still, I’m trying to help you.”
Artemis hands slip through the blood, and he is so tired. The kid needs to let Artemis help otherwise he will die but he won’t listen. None of this was fair, “I’m trying to fucking help you! Stay still.” Artemis practically screamed at the poor kid
The boy only became panicked. Artemis was only half done when the boy stopped moving. Five minutes after that the boy was dead, Artemis checked his pulse.
Artemis knelt there staring at the body, “Hurt me.”
“What was that sweetheart?”
“Hurt me. Please” Artemis begged. When nothing happened, Artemis lay down and smashed his head into the floor. Pain exploded in his skull and hands hauled him up and pressed him against someone’s chest.
Alastair held him tight, protecting him from himself, “Why did you do that?” Alastair asked.
“I… didn’t do anything. I didn’t stop it. I yelled at him and… and then I let him die.” Artemis doesn’t even know the boy’s name.
Alastair didn’t say anything, just held Artemis tight and rocked them.