Post by Akago on Jun 3, 2009 3:54:21 GMT -5
Oooookay, I kinda went on another writing kick and this little piece of one off story is the result. Being that I actually managed to finish this one, figured I might as well post it.
A quick lowdown. First of all, it's tragedy containing torture, suicide, and other bad things. There is also a single pairing in this which is actually the main focus. It's actually a couple archie characters. Hershey and Geoffrey, who are married in the comics. Yeah, shoot me, but I can't help it. A couple of secret service agents, you know it has good possibilities.
Anyway, on with the story and if I did a good job then you'll need tissues. Opinions after reading please. Oh, and, I hope I have all the typos out of this, but tell me if you spot one. x3
'How long as it been?' As he awoke, this question plagued the skunk's mind. He turned first to the window and spotted the early lights of morning basking the outside and what parts of his cell it could reach. Next his sight focused in on the makeshift calender he had on the wall. 'Two months, one week, and...' would echo in his head as he added a new notch. '4 days. Its... August then. I think. It would explain why it's so hot during the day. Bloody hell, how long are they going to keep this up?'
Currently, Geoffrey St. John was sitting in a small prison cell with his back leaned against one of the walls. The Secret Service leader had been captured along with many of his squad by enemies of the Kingdom of Acorn. They had been here for months now, regularly 'interrogated' for information about the country they worked for. Of course this was just a nice way to put that their captors were pro-torture.
He groaned, reaching his hand out and rubbing his leg gently. They had shattered his left leg and did he feel it right now. They wouldn't even give him anything to splint it with, meaning painful readjustments to try and keep it straight as it healed. His whole body ached right now from different drugs they had forced into his system as means to cause pain, and his head pounded from the same thing. Quite a bit of blood coated his fur and bruises could be seen underneath from beatings he had taken. Overall, he looked rather broken physically as he remained sprawled out against one of the stone barriers within the room. However, one could not say the same thing for his mentality. His mind, his loyalty, and his spirit all remained well in tact. Despite all they had done to him, all they had managed to break was his body.
'I wonder how Hershey is doing. If there are any gods listening right now, the only thing I pray for is for her to be protected. Damn anyone the lowest bowels of hell who even lays a finger on her. I'll put them there if I have to.' The thought of his partner, both in his job and in matrimony, in this hellhole of a prison was always followed with anger. Though nothing could be done by himself, the mere idea of his feline wife in as horrible shape as he was right now infuriated him. The only thing which dragged him from his own thoughts was the echo of the door opening which could only be the two of the guards coming to retrieve him for yet another round of torture.
Indeed, as he looked over, to guards were approaching to drag him off. As much as he'd like to, there wasn't anything he could really do to resist them as each one grabbed an arm and they pulled him along the ground. Once thrown into the room which he had come to recognize as the area where they tried to force answers out of people via pain, he would first be bombarded with different questions. As per usual when he refused to give them answers, a method of response extractment would be chosen. The pick of their arsenal this time round would be a drug cocktail to cause hallucination and searing pain through his limbs in hopes that this altered state would loosen his lips.
So, he was restrained and the chemicals meant to wreck havoc on his body and mind would be forced into his arm via syringe. Despite trying to pull his arm up and avoid the coming prick, in his state there was no fighting it. The needle was broke his skin and they hit the plunger to inject the mix of different tonics. It would take mere seconds for whatever nerve agent they were using to begin to work its painful purpose. The burn started in his arm, and slowly began to spread. The hallucinogen would take longer to begin to effect him. He could tell how long he had left until it started however, by the sting which was spreading through his body as his circulatory system carried the poison around. When it approached his head and face, he knew the drug was about to hit. And this was very close to correct, as it took less then thirty seconds more for it to strike.
Round after round of questions would come after they were sure the drugs were in full effect. Questions like about the kingdom he worked for, what his orders had been when he had been captured, his comrades, and anything he knew about the council of Acorn. Even with all the things these drugs were doing to him, he managed to resist. Despite the hallucinations, Geoffrey could not be made to give them the information they wanted. A few times he even managed a few retaliating responses about how they were fatherless, or how they had intercourse with their own mothers. These were always met with a punch across the face or a kick into the chest.
Many hours of this would continue on until they became tired of trying to break him that day. After that point came, he would be brought back to his cell and thrown in once more. These were the general way things have gone since his captivity began. Once put back in, he would pull himself back over to where the calender he had started was, and simply lay on the floor where he had been when the day began. Once on his back, his eyes would scroll up and see that the lights were once again a golden shade signaling it was closing the end of the daylight. Another full day of horrors for the prisoner.
Yet, a difference in this morbid routine would come this evening. This would be the sound of the door opening and a second captive being thrown into the room. Next would be the echo of voices. "There you go, I hope getting a roommate was worth it." And again the barrier holding him in would slam shut, leaving this second person in containment with him.
Who was it? Geoffrey's head would turn, allowing him a look at his new room mate. He needed no more then that to tell who it was. "Hershey..." Indeed, the cat who was often on his mind was now laying on the ground where she had been tossed. A mix of relief and rage stirred in the pit of his gut. Relief that she was at least alive, and rage at her state.
Her state was in much like his state physically. Dried blood in her fur, bruising over good bits of her body, and other signs of severe beatings she had taken. Most notable would the favor she showed her right hand, leading to the idea of a great bit of injury to it. Even so, she was still able to use her three less wounded limbs to make her way over to him, calling out as she did. "Geoffrey..."
Neither needed any words beyond this. The simple exchange of names between them, to confirm it was really the other, was the only thing required. Once reaching him, Hershey would collapse next to where he was laying though making some attempt not to let herself hit the ground too hard and cause herself more pain. She rolled into her right side so she could curl up against him, carefully resting her head on his shoulder. Her right hand would be recoiled to her chest while the left reached out and was placed on his chest. Over his heart.
The skunk's eyes would drift shut for a moment as his left hand reach out and rested on top of the one on his chest. His other arm, connected to the shoulder which her head was resting on, would wrap around her. He turned his head to the side so he could rest his chin the temple of her head. After so much time in this place such a simple pleasure like this, just feeling each others touch again, was like heaven. "I can't even begin to tell you how much I've missed you luv'..."
As she responded, the cat would gently nuzzle the top of her head against his chin. "Likewise..." Like him, her eyes had closed as she enjoyed the momentary bliss they had managed to find in this prison.
After minutes of this, the skunk would finally speak again. "How did you manage to get them to put you in the same cell as me?"
"I told them the location that the council meets in, in exchange for being put in with you." A near chuckle would echo in her voice, which pointed to the fact that something about this was humorous.
Of course, Geoffrey knew what it was right off, and returned a weak laugh with his response. "Aah, that's why I love you."
What had them seeing humor in the situation was the fact that the council changes positions every month. Being that they had been in here at least two, the information she gave was far too out dated to use. The feline would fledge ignorance at this idea should they come back and tell her about it, so as long as her acting skills were good they wouldn't know the better.
Somehow, they both found weak smiles now as silence took back over the room and they went back to the simple comfort of being close to each other once more. But again, Geoffrey would break the silence as he inquired about something else. "Do you still have your locket?"
"...Yeah. They didn't take it from me yet." He was talking about a small gold locket he had gotten for her not too long ago for her birthday. However, this small container was chosen by the feline to hold far more then just a picture. Geoffrey had kept something similar on him, but it had been taken from him toward the beginning of this sentence in hell.
"How much is in it?"
"Double what we need for both of us."
"Lets give it a few more weeks. If we're still in here and don't hear any word about help coming... for the good of ourselves and our country it might be time to make our own exit."
"...Alright."
With that last word of agreement, they would both go quiet again. Before long, staying awake in the silence of the room and the warmth of each other became too much and both gave into slumber.
Days would pass, and more torture would come for both of them. Time after time, they were pulled away from each other, and dragged to different rooms as their captors tried to force more information out of them. And each day seemed to bring an increase of violence; at the end of each session, they seemed to be coming back with worse and worse wounds. There captors were getting impatient with them.
But even under the agony they were given, neither Hershey nor Geoffrey broke. Putting them in the same 'interrogation' room fared no better at wrenching the information they wanted out of them. As bad as it pained both to watch the other tortured, both knew they had to fight the pulse to allow their lips to become loose in attempt to protect the other.
One of these countless nights would see Geoffrey as the second returned to the cell which he and his wife now shared. His like-colored partner was near by the door, laying on her stomach. She had not even the strength to move herself from where she had been tossed this time. This alone worried the skunk as he pulled himself over to her. "Luv'?" Carefully he would push her onto her back, cringing from the terrible slash of rendered and burnt skin he was greeted by on her chest. His hands began to tremble from more then just his injuries as one of them ran over her cheek. This shake drained into his voice as he spoke again. "H-Hershey. Come on luv, wake up."
Much to his relief, the cat's eyes would crack open in response to his actions. She was still breathing. Still alive. "H-Hey..." It was clear from her speech that she had little energy right now, but despite that she managed a weak smile. But this did nothing to ease the skunk as he laid himself down next to her, his hand remaining outstretched as it rested on her cheek.
However, he would quickly force himself back onto his arms as his ears caught the echoes of the violent coughs irrupting from her mouth. He would get himself fully sat up before carefully pulling her to lean against him so she could do the same and make it easier for the fit to pass. Once doing this, the spasms in Hershey's chest would begin to slowly come to an end for now. "Thanks. I-I'm a little cold anyhow."
Geoffrey could feel her trying to nuzzle closer to him, and he would again move her, this time at the same time as himself, to put them back against the wall to the right of the door. After this was done, he would help his beloved move closer to him and wrap his arms around her after he did. 'Why do I feel so afraid now? It's like someone knocked the wind out of me. There's no reason to, right?' While these thoughts came and went within his psyche, his grip would tighten on her.
The recipient of his tight hold on her didn't seem to mind it as her eyes drifted back shut and enjoyed the warmth. "I'm going t-...to get a bit of sleep..." Once feeling a small nod, she would relax more in his grip. She seemed rather exhausted at the moment, but something continued to seem off about her. It was her smile. Despite her pain, it seemed oddly... at peace. This strange peaceful smile was in truth what scared Geoffrey. What shook him to the core. Yet he still couldn't place it as the cause or why did scared him so.
Studying her closely as he watched her drift into slumber, both of his arms remained around her in a rather protective manner. The skunk would, unlike other nights, fight against his fatigue to continue to watch her. To continue to stare at the perfect beauty of the angel in his arms. Almost as if he felt that should he fall asleep, she wouldn't be there when he awoke again. 'She doesn't deserve this. She shouldn't be suffering right now. Bloody hell, why couldn't they have just grabbed me... and left her out of this hellish place.' Many thoughts like this would run through his mind as he continued to watch over the black and white furred woman in his arms, but over time these thoughts would garble up. Exhaustion was beginning to set in. No matter how much he didn't want it to, his body gave way and as his eyes drifted shut they managed to steal one last glance at Hershey, asleep soundly in his arms.
Even with this extra time spent focused solely on the cat, even then he hadn't placed the content smile on her face as what had made him feel like he had become a frightened child once more or what caused her to seem so peaceful.
It was the smile of impending death.
What seemed like only moments from when he lost the fight to remain conscious to him, Geoffrey's eyes would crack open. In a slight daze normal for someone just coming back to the waking world, he would mumble to himself. "Must have dozed off..." His adjusting vision would shift toward the window, noting the early morning light beginning to pour in. Not looking away yet, he would speak to the feline in his arms. "Luv', you need to wake up. They'll be coming soon." They'd spoke multiple times about the need to be alert before they were dragged off.
When he gained not response, no vocal sign that she was regaining consciousness, his gaze would turn downward toward her as he nudged his shoulder forward in attempt to awaken her. "Luv'?" Still nothing would come from the feline and Geoffrey felt his fear rising and his heart sinking. Carefully, she would be shifted by him to be perpendicular while sitting in his lap. Her upper body was propped up at an angle by one arm as he used it to shake her more. "C-Come on Luv', wake up..." She fell limp in his arms, her head tilted back. Under the matted fur, she was ghostly white. His worst nightmare was coming true, but his still couldn't wrap his mind around it as he tried to bring her into consciousness. "H-Hershey, wake up! Please!" This was finally when his second hand reached up, and felt for a pulse. Nothing. No heartbeat. No life. He no longer held in his arms his beautiful and vibrant wife, but a empty mortal coil that once held her.
"Oh god... no... no... no..." This was the only word he could find as the truth revealed itself. The only word he could find to describe how wrong it all felt. They were suppose to go together if they died here. He shook his head as he repeated this single word, sobs beginning to shake his whole body as the volume and sorrow increased. He drew her closer as his both arms coiled around her shoulders and head. His face buried into the fur his neck as his eyes clenched shut and his jaw tightened up. His head continued to shake back and forth, but in this increasing grief, now he couldn't even find that single syllable he had been repeating before. The only thing his voice found itself used for were long, wordless, bloodcurdling, heartfelt screams. Yells that would seem to shake the whole base down to every stone and beam.
It wouldn't be long at all before it attracted guards to the cell, who quickly opened the barred door to see what was going on. By this time, the screams had died down and what they found was a very broken man, gently rocking as he held tightly to the dead woman's body. Upon hearing them enter however, he would be overtaken by another emotion of grief. Anger. Rage would fill his voice as he spoke, his words yet again reaching loud volumes. "You bastards! You say your country is better! That it and it's rulers are just! How could this country be just!? How, when you f**kers took my wife from me!?" His jaw cringed back up after he finished, his face remaining pressed into her neck. The soldiers said nothing. They fought for an opposing side, but they weren't heartless. What could they say to the agent, no the man, mourning before them when they were the ones behind this?
While they were busy, searching themselves about what to do, Geoffrey's mind was continuing to fall apart. Only one thing was clear to him now. The necklace and what was within it. The one way he could see Hershey once more. Pulling his head away from her neck now, through the still falling tears that blurred his vision, one of his hands would move and cup the locket round his late love's neck while he popped it open. The guards which had ran in were watching, but they didn't understand his actions. His logic center was beginning to cease function from the anguish he was in, but it still hadn't shut down to the point where he didn't realize they would try to stop him. So carefully his finger nursed the thin sheets of paper out and with his head still so close to her neck, he was able to slip them into his mouth without the men watching him the wiser. After feeling all four pieces slide down his throat, he would return to resting his head on her neck.
As inconspicuously as possible, he had just poisoned himself with eight times what was known as a fatal dose. The snips were actually soaked with two drops of highly deadly toxic. They always doubled up on doses with each sheet, just to make sure there was not even a speck of chance of survival. It took no more then ten seconds for him to begin to feel it. It was chosen for both it's speed and is deadliness as Geoffrey would soon prove. Now deep within delusion, the skunk would actually manage a weak and tired smile as he drew up and brushed his lips against the corpse's.
Watching the strange actions of their captive finally made one of the guards approach. He searched for words, but wound up tripping over them. "H-Hey skunk, you there?" Asking if he was alright seemed a redundant question. It was obvious he was far from it. However, it would only be a few moments more when the guard noticed something far more then anguish was wrong with him. This would be the sight of convulsions from the skunk, and slight frothing at the mouth. The guard looked back to his partner. "Something is seriously wrong with him, get help!" They would respond by running out to follow the order.
The one who had approached would lean down, and pull Geoffrey to lean back against the wall. The convulsions were getting much worse and the foam from his mouth became more prevalent. His eyes had rolled into the back of his head as his grip on the feline was totally lost and his arms slumped down however gravity would pull them with the dead body still laying on top of his legs. The whole sight would come to a great crescendo with uncontrolled groans and gargles joining this zenith before, as if something had snapped, it stopped. Any movement from the prisoner would cease as he slowly slumped to the side. He to, like the cat before him, was now nothing more then a corpse.
By the time the second guard got back with help, they and those they had brought to help would find out not one, but two captives in their hands were dead. Much time would be spent over these two now. Why did the cat die during the night, how had the skunk followed after her, and what to do with the bodies. While they couldn't solve the first two questions, the third had a chosen answer by those who had some compassion. They would be returned to their country for a proper burial.
So, days later, two bodies wrapped in thick white linen were delivered over the borders between these fighting countries. Their comrades left in the KASS were the ones to receive them. It seemed only proper. The painful task of unwrapping the cloth was done to insure it was them only after the soldiers who had brought the bodies were gone. When seeing their commander, the man they had followed, and his partner in work and in live in the horrible shape they were, all of them swore things which sensitive ears would not wish to hear. They cursed those who had done this, claimed that should be damned to hell. But most of all they swore revenge. They swore those responsible to the gallows before this was over.
Many tears were shed for the two black and white furred fighters as they were properly put to rest. Tears from allies. Tears from friends. The last touch was one pristine marble grave marker for both of them.
Geoffrey St John
Hershey St John
To those who served and loved their country, their friends, their allies, and each other until the bitter end, rest in peace.
[/color]A quick lowdown. First of all, it's tragedy containing torture, suicide, and other bad things. There is also a single pairing in this which is actually the main focus. It's actually a couple archie characters. Hershey and Geoffrey, who are married in the comics. Yeah, shoot me, but I can't help it. A couple of secret service agents, you know it has good possibilities.
Anyway, on with the story and if I did a good job then you'll need tissues. Opinions after reading please. Oh, and, I hope I have all the typos out of this, but tell me if you spot one. x3
'How long as it been?' As he awoke, this question plagued the skunk's mind. He turned first to the window and spotted the early lights of morning basking the outside and what parts of his cell it could reach. Next his sight focused in on the makeshift calender he had on the wall. 'Two months, one week, and...' would echo in his head as he added a new notch. '4 days. Its... August then. I think. It would explain why it's so hot during the day. Bloody hell, how long are they going to keep this up?'
Currently, Geoffrey St. John was sitting in a small prison cell with his back leaned against one of the walls. The Secret Service leader had been captured along with many of his squad by enemies of the Kingdom of Acorn. They had been here for months now, regularly 'interrogated' for information about the country they worked for. Of course this was just a nice way to put that their captors were pro-torture.
He groaned, reaching his hand out and rubbing his leg gently. They had shattered his left leg and did he feel it right now. They wouldn't even give him anything to splint it with, meaning painful readjustments to try and keep it straight as it healed. His whole body ached right now from different drugs they had forced into his system as means to cause pain, and his head pounded from the same thing. Quite a bit of blood coated his fur and bruises could be seen underneath from beatings he had taken. Overall, he looked rather broken physically as he remained sprawled out against one of the stone barriers within the room. However, one could not say the same thing for his mentality. His mind, his loyalty, and his spirit all remained well in tact. Despite all they had done to him, all they had managed to break was his body.
'I wonder how Hershey is doing. If there are any gods listening right now, the only thing I pray for is for her to be protected. Damn anyone the lowest bowels of hell who even lays a finger on her. I'll put them there if I have to.' The thought of his partner, both in his job and in matrimony, in this hellhole of a prison was always followed with anger. Though nothing could be done by himself, the mere idea of his feline wife in as horrible shape as he was right now infuriated him. The only thing which dragged him from his own thoughts was the echo of the door opening which could only be the two of the guards coming to retrieve him for yet another round of torture.
Indeed, as he looked over, to guards were approaching to drag him off. As much as he'd like to, there wasn't anything he could really do to resist them as each one grabbed an arm and they pulled him along the ground. Once thrown into the room which he had come to recognize as the area where they tried to force answers out of people via pain, he would first be bombarded with different questions. As per usual when he refused to give them answers, a method of response extractment would be chosen. The pick of their arsenal this time round would be a drug cocktail to cause hallucination and searing pain through his limbs in hopes that this altered state would loosen his lips.
So, he was restrained and the chemicals meant to wreck havoc on his body and mind would be forced into his arm via syringe. Despite trying to pull his arm up and avoid the coming prick, in his state there was no fighting it. The needle was broke his skin and they hit the plunger to inject the mix of different tonics. It would take mere seconds for whatever nerve agent they were using to begin to work its painful purpose. The burn started in his arm, and slowly began to spread. The hallucinogen would take longer to begin to effect him. He could tell how long he had left until it started however, by the sting which was spreading through his body as his circulatory system carried the poison around. When it approached his head and face, he knew the drug was about to hit. And this was very close to correct, as it took less then thirty seconds more for it to strike.
Round after round of questions would come after they were sure the drugs were in full effect. Questions like about the kingdom he worked for, what his orders had been when he had been captured, his comrades, and anything he knew about the council of Acorn. Even with all the things these drugs were doing to him, he managed to resist. Despite the hallucinations, Geoffrey could not be made to give them the information they wanted. A few times he even managed a few retaliating responses about how they were fatherless, or how they had intercourse with their own mothers. These were always met with a punch across the face or a kick into the chest.
Many hours of this would continue on until they became tired of trying to break him that day. After that point came, he would be brought back to his cell and thrown in once more. These were the general way things have gone since his captivity began. Once put back in, he would pull himself back over to where the calender he had started was, and simply lay on the floor where he had been when the day began. Once on his back, his eyes would scroll up and see that the lights were once again a golden shade signaling it was closing the end of the daylight. Another full day of horrors for the prisoner.
Yet, a difference in this morbid routine would come this evening. This would be the sound of the door opening and a second captive being thrown into the room. Next would be the echo of voices. "There you go, I hope getting a roommate was worth it." And again the barrier holding him in would slam shut, leaving this second person in containment with him.
Who was it? Geoffrey's head would turn, allowing him a look at his new room mate. He needed no more then that to tell who it was. "Hershey..." Indeed, the cat who was often on his mind was now laying on the ground where she had been tossed. A mix of relief and rage stirred in the pit of his gut. Relief that she was at least alive, and rage at her state.
Her state was in much like his state physically. Dried blood in her fur, bruising over good bits of her body, and other signs of severe beatings she had taken. Most notable would the favor she showed her right hand, leading to the idea of a great bit of injury to it. Even so, she was still able to use her three less wounded limbs to make her way over to him, calling out as she did. "Geoffrey..."
Neither needed any words beyond this. The simple exchange of names between them, to confirm it was really the other, was the only thing required. Once reaching him, Hershey would collapse next to where he was laying though making some attempt not to let herself hit the ground too hard and cause herself more pain. She rolled into her right side so she could curl up against him, carefully resting her head on his shoulder. Her right hand would be recoiled to her chest while the left reached out and was placed on his chest. Over his heart.
The skunk's eyes would drift shut for a moment as his left hand reach out and rested on top of the one on his chest. His other arm, connected to the shoulder which her head was resting on, would wrap around her. He turned his head to the side so he could rest his chin the temple of her head. After so much time in this place such a simple pleasure like this, just feeling each others touch again, was like heaven. "I can't even begin to tell you how much I've missed you luv'..."
As she responded, the cat would gently nuzzle the top of her head against his chin. "Likewise..." Like him, her eyes had closed as she enjoyed the momentary bliss they had managed to find in this prison.
After minutes of this, the skunk would finally speak again. "How did you manage to get them to put you in the same cell as me?"
"I told them the location that the council meets in, in exchange for being put in with you." A near chuckle would echo in her voice, which pointed to the fact that something about this was humorous.
Of course, Geoffrey knew what it was right off, and returned a weak laugh with his response. "Aah, that's why I love you."
What had them seeing humor in the situation was the fact that the council changes positions every month. Being that they had been in here at least two, the information she gave was far too out dated to use. The feline would fledge ignorance at this idea should they come back and tell her about it, so as long as her acting skills were good they wouldn't know the better.
Somehow, they both found weak smiles now as silence took back over the room and they went back to the simple comfort of being close to each other once more. But again, Geoffrey would break the silence as he inquired about something else. "Do you still have your locket?"
"...Yeah. They didn't take it from me yet." He was talking about a small gold locket he had gotten for her not too long ago for her birthday. However, this small container was chosen by the feline to hold far more then just a picture. Geoffrey had kept something similar on him, but it had been taken from him toward the beginning of this sentence in hell.
"How much is in it?"
"Double what we need for both of us."
"Lets give it a few more weeks. If we're still in here and don't hear any word about help coming... for the good of ourselves and our country it might be time to make our own exit."
"...Alright."
With that last word of agreement, they would both go quiet again. Before long, staying awake in the silence of the room and the warmth of each other became too much and both gave into slumber.
Days would pass, and more torture would come for both of them. Time after time, they were pulled away from each other, and dragged to different rooms as their captors tried to force more information out of them. And each day seemed to bring an increase of violence; at the end of each session, they seemed to be coming back with worse and worse wounds. There captors were getting impatient with them.
But even under the agony they were given, neither Hershey nor Geoffrey broke. Putting them in the same 'interrogation' room fared no better at wrenching the information they wanted out of them. As bad as it pained both to watch the other tortured, both knew they had to fight the pulse to allow their lips to become loose in attempt to protect the other.
One of these countless nights would see Geoffrey as the second returned to the cell which he and his wife now shared. His like-colored partner was near by the door, laying on her stomach. She had not even the strength to move herself from where she had been tossed this time. This alone worried the skunk as he pulled himself over to her. "Luv'?" Carefully he would push her onto her back, cringing from the terrible slash of rendered and burnt skin he was greeted by on her chest. His hands began to tremble from more then just his injuries as one of them ran over her cheek. This shake drained into his voice as he spoke again. "H-Hershey. Come on luv, wake up."
Much to his relief, the cat's eyes would crack open in response to his actions. She was still breathing. Still alive. "H-Hey..." It was clear from her speech that she had little energy right now, but despite that she managed a weak smile. But this did nothing to ease the skunk as he laid himself down next to her, his hand remaining outstretched as it rested on her cheek.
However, he would quickly force himself back onto his arms as his ears caught the echoes of the violent coughs irrupting from her mouth. He would get himself fully sat up before carefully pulling her to lean against him so she could do the same and make it easier for the fit to pass. Once doing this, the spasms in Hershey's chest would begin to slowly come to an end for now. "Thanks. I-I'm a little cold anyhow."
Geoffrey could feel her trying to nuzzle closer to him, and he would again move her, this time at the same time as himself, to put them back against the wall to the right of the door. After this was done, he would help his beloved move closer to him and wrap his arms around her after he did. 'Why do I feel so afraid now? It's like someone knocked the wind out of me. There's no reason to, right?' While these thoughts came and went within his psyche, his grip would tighten on her.
The recipient of his tight hold on her didn't seem to mind it as her eyes drifted back shut and enjoyed the warmth. "I'm going t-...to get a bit of sleep..." Once feeling a small nod, she would relax more in his grip. She seemed rather exhausted at the moment, but something continued to seem off about her. It was her smile. Despite her pain, it seemed oddly... at peace. This strange peaceful smile was in truth what scared Geoffrey. What shook him to the core. Yet he still couldn't place it as the cause or why did scared him so.
Studying her closely as he watched her drift into slumber, both of his arms remained around her in a rather protective manner. The skunk would, unlike other nights, fight against his fatigue to continue to watch her. To continue to stare at the perfect beauty of the angel in his arms. Almost as if he felt that should he fall asleep, she wouldn't be there when he awoke again. 'She doesn't deserve this. She shouldn't be suffering right now. Bloody hell, why couldn't they have just grabbed me... and left her out of this hellish place.' Many thoughts like this would run through his mind as he continued to watch over the black and white furred woman in his arms, but over time these thoughts would garble up. Exhaustion was beginning to set in. No matter how much he didn't want it to, his body gave way and as his eyes drifted shut they managed to steal one last glance at Hershey, asleep soundly in his arms.
Even with this extra time spent focused solely on the cat, even then he hadn't placed the content smile on her face as what had made him feel like he had become a frightened child once more or what caused her to seem so peaceful.
It was the smile of impending death.
What seemed like only moments from when he lost the fight to remain conscious to him, Geoffrey's eyes would crack open. In a slight daze normal for someone just coming back to the waking world, he would mumble to himself. "Must have dozed off..." His adjusting vision would shift toward the window, noting the early morning light beginning to pour in. Not looking away yet, he would speak to the feline in his arms. "Luv', you need to wake up. They'll be coming soon." They'd spoke multiple times about the need to be alert before they were dragged off.
When he gained not response, no vocal sign that she was regaining consciousness, his gaze would turn downward toward her as he nudged his shoulder forward in attempt to awaken her. "Luv'?" Still nothing would come from the feline and Geoffrey felt his fear rising and his heart sinking. Carefully, she would be shifted by him to be perpendicular while sitting in his lap. Her upper body was propped up at an angle by one arm as he used it to shake her more. "C-Come on Luv', wake up..." She fell limp in his arms, her head tilted back. Under the matted fur, she was ghostly white. His worst nightmare was coming true, but his still couldn't wrap his mind around it as he tried to bring her into consciousness. "H-Hershey, wake up! Please!" This was finally when his second hand reached up, and felt for a pulse. Nothing. No heartbeat. No life. He no longer held in his arms his beautiful and vibrant wife, but a empty mortal coil that once held her.
"Oh god... no... no... no..." This was the only word he could find as the truth revealed itself. The only word he could find to describe how wrong it all felt. They were suppose to go together if they died here. He shook his head as he repeated this single word, sobs beginning to shake his whole body as the volume and sorrow increased. He drew her closer as his both arms coiled around her shoulders and head. His face buried into the fur his neck as his eyes clenched shut and his jaw tightened up. His head continued to shake back and forth, but in this increasing grief, now he couldn't even find that single syllable he had been repeating before. The only thing his voice found itself used for were long, wordless, bloodcurdling, heartfelt screams. Yells that would seem to shake the whole base down to every stone and beam.
It wouldn't be long at all before it attracted guards to the cell, who quickly opened the barred door to see what was going on. By this time, the screams had died down and what they found was a very broken man, gently rocking as he held tightly to the dead woman's body. Upon hearing them enter however, he would be overtaken by another emotion of grief. Anger. Rage would fill his voice as he spoke, his words yet again reaching loud volumes. "You bastards! You say your country is better! That it and it's rulers are just! How could this country be just!? How, when you f**kers took my wife from me!?" His jaw cringed back up after he finished, his face remaining pressed into her neck. The soldiers said nothing. They fought for an opposing side, but they weren't heartless. What could they say to the agent, no the man, mourning before them when they were the ones behind this?
While they were busy, searching themselves about what to do, Geoffrey's mind was continuing to fall apart. Only one thing was clear to him now. The necklace and what was within it. The one way he could see Hershey once more. Pulling his head away from her neck now, through the still falling tears that blurred his vision, one of his hands would move and cup the locket round his late love's neck while he popped it open. The guards which had ran in were watching, but they didn't understand his actions. His logic center was beginning to cease function from the anguish he was in, but it still hadn't shut down to the point where he didn't realize they would try to stop him. So carefully his finger nursed the thin sheets of paper out and with his head still so close to her neck, he was able to slip them into his mouth without the men watching him the wiser. After feeling all four pieces slide down his throat, he would return to resting his head on her neck.
As inconspicuously as possible, he had just poisoned himself with eight times what was known as a fatal dose. The snips were actually soaked with two drops of highly deadly toxic. They always doubled up on doses with each sheet, just to make sure there was not even a speck of chance of survival. It took no more then ten seconds for him to begin to feel it. It was chosen for both it's speed and is deadliness as Geoffrey would soon prove. Now deep within delusion, the skunk would actually manage a weak and tired smile as he drew up and brushed his lips against the corpse's.
Watching the strange actions of their captive finally made one of the guards approach. He searched for words, but wound up tripping over them. "H-Hey skunk, you there?" Asking if he was alright seemed a redundant question. It was obvious he was far from it. However, it would only be a few moments more when the guard noticed something far more then anguish was wrong with him. This would be the sight of convulsions from the skunk, and slight frothing at the mouth. The guard looked back to his partner. "Something is seriously wrong with him, get help!" They would respond by running out to follow the order.
The one who had approached would lean down, and pull Geoffrey to lean back against the wall. The convulsions were getting much worse and the foam from his mouth became more prevalent. His eyes had rolled into the back of his head as his grip on the feline was totally lost and his arms slumped down however gravity would pull them with the dead body still laying on top of his legs. The whole sight would come to a great crescendo with uncontrolled groans and gargles joining this zenith before, as if something had snapped, it stopped. Any movement from the prisoner would cease as he slowly slumped to the side. He to, like the cat before him, was now nothing more then a corpse.
By the time the second guard got back with help, they and those they had brought to help would find out not one, but two captives in their hands were dead. Much time would be spent over these two now. Why did the cat die during the night, how had the skunk followed after her, and what to do with the bodies. While they couldn't solve the first two questions, the third had a chosen answer by those who had some compassion. They would be returned to their country for a proper burial.
So, days later, two bodies wrapped in thick white linen were delivered over the borders between these fighting countries. Their comrades left in the KASS were the ones to receive them. It seemed only proper. The painful task of unwrapping the cloth was done to insure it was them only after the soldiers who had brought the bodies were gone. When seeing their commander, the man they had followed, and his partner in work and in live in the horrible shape they were, all of them swore things which sensitive ears would not wish to hear. They cursed those who had done this, claimed that should be damned to hell. But most of all they swore revenge. They swore those responsible to the gallows before this was over.
Many tears were shed for the two black and white furred fighters as they were properly put to rest. Tears from allies. Tears from friends. The last touch was one pristine marble grave marker for both of them.
Geoffrey St John
Hershey St John
To those who served and loved their country, their friends, their allies, and each other until the bitter end, rest in peace.