Collision Course

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WARNING
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THIS SCENE CONTAINS SOME EXPLICIT TORTURE, AS GOES WITHT HE THEME OF THE SHOW
:) IF THIS IS GOIGN TO OFFEND YOU, PLEASE SKIP THIS CHAPTER. CONSIDER THIS
YOUR
WARNING!

Jan awoke, his shirt in tatters around him, his jeans dingy and dirty. He was
hung by his
arms, cuffs on his wrists attached to chains that led to the high ceiling. His
legs were
secured by ankle cuffs to rings cemented into the floor. It was cold and damp,
and poorly
lit. He looked around, but saw no sign of the woman who had killed his mother
and taken
him from his home. Was he even still in London? He couldn't be sure....

"Ah, Good morning, Mr. Oramu. I trust you had a pleasant nap?" said mallory,
coming
closer to him, from the corner in the shadows.

"Yeah, real swell," said Jan sarcasticlly. Mallory stepped forward and slapped
him hard
across the cheek, leaving the bright red print of her hand on his face.

"I will not be spoken to in such a manner, Mr. Oramu. Let's get that straight
right now, so
we have no more- unpleasant consquences," she said, standing close to Jan, her
eyes
meeting his, her expression unwaivering.

"Forgive me for not showing the proper respect to the woman who murdered my
mother in
cold blood," Jan shot back. Mallory didn't flinch, but rather landed a punch
right in Jan's
stomach. He grunted from the impact, trying not to show the pain on his face.

"And your father, don't forget about that, my dear," she said coldly. "But
again I'll remind
you to watch your tone." Jan regarded her angrily, but was too stunned to
react. She had
killed his father too? Over what? What did this woman want?

"You see, Mr. Oramu, the followers of Rambaldi have hired me to bring you to
them. They
instructed me not to kill you. Torture you, on the other hand... well that is
another matter
entirely," she said, an evil glimmer in her eyes. She faced him again, and
continued, "So,
mr. Oramu, let's make this easy on both of us. How are you connected to the
prophecies.
You see, I cannot make demands of my employers. but while you are in my
possession, I
can certainly make demands of you." She walked closer to him, her face right in
front of
his, so he could feel her hot breath on his skin. "Tell me what you know and I
promise to
go very easy on you."

Jan regarded her carefully. He had no idea what she was talking about. Who was

Rambaldi? What did that have to do with Jan? None of this was making any
sense. Jan
looked up at Mallory and replied, in a voice that sounded strong and confidant
despite his
questions, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Mallory's eyes filled with anger as she punched Jan in his jaw. "Again, Mr.
Oramu, what do
you know about the prophecy?"

"Which one?" Jan asked seriously. "The one where I kick you everloving, sorry
ass?" Jan
asked. Mallory swiftly brought her knee up and rammed in between Jan's legs.

"Don't be coy with me, little boy," she said coldly, walking away and
disappearing into the
shadows for a moment, returning with a bull whip. For effect, she cracked the
whip on the
floor, letting Jan hear the loud SNAP. "I know you are the child of the chosen
one. Who is
she?"

"The chosen one? Sorry, doesn't ring a bell," said Jan, shaking his head.
Mallory didn't say
a word, just flicked the whip and brought it down on Jan's shoulder, creating
another tear
in his already tattered shirt. Jan grunted but otherwise hid well the burning
pain her blow
had caused.

"Yet again, Mr. Oramu, who is your birth mother?" Mallory asked.

Jan shook his head. "I knew I was adopted, but nobody ever told me where I came
from."
He looked up and met her hard, cold gaze. "And that is the truth."

Mallory shook her head and flicked the whip again, this time landing it directly
across his
chest. "As much as I enjoy torturing people, I must tell you this is getting
very tiresome.
Just tell me what you know and we can end this."

Jan just stared at her, not speaking, not moving, not reacting at all to her
harsh words.
"What is it?" she asked. "Finally getting your memory back?"

"No," said Jan quickly. "I was just thinking, while watching you- if you ever
get tired of,
say kidnapping and murder as a career, you could always have a career as a
dominatrix."

Mallory actually laughed at his comment, and dropped the whip, coming closer to
him.
"Cute, Mr. Oramu, very cute."

"Please, call me Jan. Everyone who murders the people I love then tortures me
for
information I don't have calls me Jan," he told her, matching her gaze, his eyes
not moving
from hers.

"Ok, Jan," she said, an evil smile spreading across her lips. "But this is far
from over. I
won't turn you over to my employer until you give me what I want."

"Then we will be here quite a while," Jan shot back, not showing his anger or
fear. His
calmness was somewhat eerie.

"We're done for now. I'll just let you hang there for a while, thinking about
all this. Maybe
you'll come to your senses and end this whole thing. But until then," she said,
reaching up
and ripping his tattered shirt from his body, revealing his tight and muscled
arms and
chest, "no harm in providing myself with a little bit of eye candy." She
laughed as she left
the room, the distinct sound of a padlock being locked with a click as her
footsteps slowly
could be heard going further from the room where Jan was being held.

When he was sure she was gone, and there was no sound at all around him, he gave
into
his emotions and let silent tears spill down his cheeks. "Mom, Dad," he said
softly, to
himself. "Who the hell am I?"

************************END OF PART 8********************************