Winning Justice By A Tuckered Hand
They’ve already said they’re sorry, what more do you want?
“Retribution,” Tucker answered, stepping over the last of the lab’s security.
They enjoyed torture so much and yet they scampered away like worthless insects. His head tilted to the side as one pressed a button on a small rectangular device she pulled from the pocket of one of the security guards. The first click didn’t drop him to his knees so she kept clicking. He counted a total of thirty-two frenzied clicks before his amusement tempered off.
“Here, let me fix that.” He spoke gently but it wasn’t enough to stop the woman from shaking. One glance down at her lab coat gave him her name. “Miss Goldblum,” he smiled at her widened eyes, “let’s do our own experiment.”
“Shh, this is a non-verbal experiment.” He reach back, undid the clasps of his collar, much to her horror, and placed it around her neck instead. She tried protesting but wherever his fingers touched, she lost control of that area of her body. By the time she was done fighting, she was crying and paralyzed.
“Note the subject has begun to exhibit signs of submissive behavior.” He nodded and wrote in a fake notebook. “Next, we’ll see how the subject responds to electric stimulation.”
Miss Goldblum shook her head.
Tucker smiled, told her it was for the greater good, and pressed the button she held so much hope in mere minutes ago.
Unlike then, the top and bottom rim of the collar turned a light blue and then emitted a short jolt of electricity. Miss Goldblum screamed but that soon was taken from her. Tucker’s eyes narrowed till her cries were nothing but forced air. “Ah, ah, ah, I said non-verbal. Note, the subject suffered from memory lapse when given the first treatment of electric stimulation.”
He smiled darkly at her silent whimper.
Haven’t we hurt enough already? Can’t we go now?
“No,” he growled, “they’ll know the pain they’ve put us through all these years.”
But we’re not in pain.
Tucker glared at the mirror above her head. Where others saw his long, messy red hair, brown eyes, and the face of a seventeen year old, he saw his other self. He glared harder at the boy’s short brown hair, blue eyes, and innocent ten year old face. Like everyone else, he came to see the boy as Young Tuck but he didn’t let on who was the real one and neither did the boy still pleading with him to move on.
“They hurt her.”
Young Tuck’s cherub face fell slightly. They had to watch Winny writher in pain every day because the Coats wanted to get a rise out of him. The one time they did, the pain got worse for her. Not because they lashed out, but because the Coats wanted to see the full scope of their power of biological manipulation. If they could heal someone other than themselves, what were the extent of the injuries that they could handle? Could they stop death?
Tucker let his hardened gaze fall to the woman. He remembered her. She was the one who made the mistake of ordering more trials after nearly killing his Winny for her own interests.
“Let’s see how much injuries your body can handle.” His gentle, patronizing tone was gone. In its place was one colder, deeper, and full of malice.
Though he pressed the button, and her body convulsed, it wasn’t enough. He wanted her to feel as each of her nerve endings were seared off. He wanted her stomach to churn in its own bile and for her mind to crumble in despair as her death loomed closer. He wanted her to know what it meant to have her freedom, life, and safety in the hands of somebody who didn’t care whether she lived or died; all that mattered were the results.
Her body slumped uselessly as the last of her fight twitched out of her fingers. It didn’t fill the hole they carved into his soul but it was a start. He tossed the remote in her lap. She wouldn’t need it anymore but he didn’t have a use for it either. None of them would. Avia was scheduled to sink along with the collars and their remotes and then they would finally be free.