David stood up and stretched his back, trying to dull the pain he was racked with....and apparently it was only the beginning. He shook the cobwebs from his head.
>Boulay's first sounds that he could hear as the drugs wore off was that of a painful scream from far down the hall...
He went up to the door and tried to identify anyone's voice if possible..."Hey...anyone hear me?" He said in not too loud a voice.
Footsteps. And then a face in the little barred square that provided the only dim light to the cell. It was a man's face, hard and lean, with eyes that were filled with a rage that had turned him cold. "Yeah, I hear you little Fleeter." A knife appeared in the window, gleaming a dull, cold silver. "My friend here hears you too. You wanna get acquainted?" The hatred in his voice could cut titanium.
(resp?)
"It's not time for that one!" came a voice from down the corridor, somewhere out of David's visual range.
The hard man's face turned away for a moment. "I just wanted to have some fun with him, sarge."
"Save it. The colonel wants him in the best shape possible for his time in the Box. They last longer that way." The invisible voice had a tone of authority.
The hard man's face turned back to Boulay with a look that spoke of how much he would have enjoyed cutting off little pieces of Boulay's flesh. "All right, sarge," he called, then narrowed his eyes at Boulay and turned the knife slowly. "But if you live after they get done with you, you're mine." A chilling smile crept across his face and he turned and left.
(resp?)
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- SPD: David the prisoner pboulay
- Re: SPD: David the prisoner Christopher Salmi
- SPD: David the prisoner Pete Boulay
- Steel Dragon
