Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Silent ❯ chapter four ( Chapter 4 )

Silent:

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Silent: Chapter Three: No hope

-Six Weeks Later-

Duo Maxwell was broken. He had suffered through this hell for six weeks. Six fucking weeks. His injuries had been poorly treated shortly after the guards first 'session' with him, simply because he had passe out from the lack of blood, otherwise, nothing would have been done about them at all, which, in retrospect, would have been better fro the braided piolet.

The dear docter had asked for payment, demanded it really and, seeing as prisinors arent exactly allowed to keep cash or cred-cards with them, he had been forced to pay via other...methods. Not that what the docter had done to 'help' him in the first place could truely have been called medical treatment.

His shoulder was still dislocated, bullet woulds still with bullets in them, infact, all of his injuries were in more or less the same condition, except one, which had been made much, much worse. The bruising had mainly faided into a sickly green-yellow, but had quickly been replaced and were once again a lovely blue-black colour.

Up to six 'sessions' a day with four to eight guards, for 'questioning', two to three additionly sessions of pure tourture-time with four to six guards, little to no food, followed by a few sleepless, nightmare-plagued houre with no warmth, only the freezing cold metal floor of his cell for comfort.

Duo Maxwell was well and truely a broken boy, both in body, and in mind. He never cried out, he never begged, he never pleaded after that first time. He never spoke.

His gaze became blank, hollow. His eyes, dead. The jokester, prankster, jester's mask had cracked, caved, crumbkled; This was all that was left.

The guards, thinking that his lack of speech was the last of the boy's defiance showing through, were enraged, using all of their efforts to force the smallest sob, quietest whimper from him. It never once occured to them that he'd forgottern how, that he was unable to speak.

After the first four weeks of fruitless questioning, they transfeerred him to an Oz facility on Earth. They still didnt know his name, age, rank, they didnt even know why he had been at the base.

The slightest spark of hope had re-entered his eyes when he had overheard the guards talking of his transter; Maybe the other pilots would come for him them, or, at the very least, the officers at the new base would treat him differently.

Upon arrival, that spark flichered and died.

THe guards were even rougher and more brutal than they had been before. For him, all hope had died. His few happy memories of his time with the pilots faded, leaving him only the horror of the present, the nightmars the guards left him with.

He still fainly remembered a boy with long, dirty blond hair and deep green eyes, giving him a name and looking out for him....Sol? Slo? He Couldnt quite...remember. And a pretty lady who dressed like a penguin, something about hair, and a silver cross...

Luckly for him, fate was having an off day, and, in a way, dicided to give him a break, in one of the most unusual, unsuspected ways.

End of chapter three

sorry it was short! but, if i get at least three reviews for this, I'll update by wednesday! thank-you!