The Killing Jar

By Cogito · Oct 27, 2008 · ·
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  1. (This is a short story I am putting together around a character I created for one or the RPGs on the site. I wanted to give a glimpse of him to those who weren't around when the RPG was taking place)

    The Killing Jar

    Mack Grundy smiled. No one saw the smile, so no one was chilled by it. Down here, among the dregs of a dozen worlds, he was the Hammer of God, chosen to break them and render them harmless.

    He was looking forward to breaking the new prisoner. Not yet positively identified, the small, pale man was brought in three hours ago, rounded up near the smoking ruins of a government installation that had been invaded by a small band of mercenaries.

    Manacled and with a full tranquilizer load in him, he should have been a rag doll with a pulse. But as two of his guards stepped away so the remaining two could shove him through the narrow doorway into his cell, he attacked. One guard went down, his kneecap shattered by a snap kick, and the other was soon gasping for breath with the prisoner’s manacles around his throat. The remaining two guards rushed him with neural prods. One fell, his larynx crushed by a well-placed kick, but the fourth guard managed to immobilize the prisoner with the prod as the second guard collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

    Mack checked the new prisoner’s video monitor, but the view was obscured. He had half expected this, so he stepped silently to the steel door of the cell with the neural prod ready. Snapping the view panel’s cover aside, he jammed the prod against the opening and pressed the trigger, and smiled grimly as he heard a muffled gasp and the sound of a body landing hard on the floor. Only then did Mack look through the opening.

    The prisoner was small and wiry, with a pale face marked with several scars that looked like burn marks. Beside him was a small stun gun he must have taken from one of the guards during last night’s struggle. Clearly he had prepared to ambush whoever opened the view panel. But he has never dealt with me, thought Mack.

    He opened the cell door and stepped inside. He picked up the stunner, and covered the prisoner with it as he checked the camera. Although it was recessed behind an electrified wire grid, the prisoner had manager to cover the lens with his own feces.

    Mack kicked the prisoner hard, and was surprised to see him curl up in pain. He should still have been immobilized by the charge from the prod. The prisoner began to try to stand, so Mack swung the stunner. A bright red gash appeared across the bridge of his nose and crossing his right eyebrow, and the prisoner collapsed to the floor. Mack left the cell and slammed the steel door behind him. He left orders that no one was to enter the cell for any reason without Mack standing by.

    Jared struggled to stay conscious, and lost. Beneath the searing pain that invaded even his unconscious mind floated a clear memory.

    He was surrounded by brown dust and leathery plants under an unrelenting sun’s glare, poking the dry dirt with a stick. Around him, the occasional hot breath of the desert breeze made the spiny brown plants shiver with a dry hiss.

    The dirt erupted at the tip of a stick, and a twig-like grey scorpion fled, seeking a new hiding place. Jared snatched it up by the tail, just below the wicked-looking sting, and examined his catch. It tried to grab his finger with its pincers, but was unable to reach any vulnerable skin.

    Jared lifted the cover from the glass jar next to him, dropped the scorpion inside, and covered it again. He wrinkled his nose at the fumes from the wet blotter at the bottom of the jar, and watched as the scorpion’s frantic movements slowed, then ceased.

    Then Jared’s dream shifted to the nightmare that visited him every time he closed his eyes to sleep.

    (to be continued)
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  1. Cogito
    (conclusion)

    Eight days later, Grundy picked up an ID Query Report among his daily memos. According to the document, the prisoner matched the description of an executed terrorist, Jared Slovnyk. The frontal and side view images sure looked like Slovnyk, described as an explosives expert and sociopath. He had been positively linked to several brutally efficient murders, and suspected is a dozen others.

    Grundy frowned. He had seen other supposedly executed criminals turn up. Invariably they were conscripted by government black ops groups, their records altered to conceal the trail. But if he was dead, well, then anything that happened to him was beyond the reach of law.

    Mack had begun to see results. He would turn the cell lighting on or off at irregular intervals, and supplied food and water, drugged of course, at unpredictable times as well. Before long, Slovnyk would lose all track of the passage of time. Of course, Grundy also beat him and treated him to the neural probe frequently as well. The prisoner still had managed to strike back occasionally, but Mack repaid every bruise tenfold, and Slovnyk was clearly weakening.

    Mack checked the video monitor. The prisoner had stopped tampering with the lens, another sign that he was losing his will to fight back. But Slovnyk was crouched in the corner, arms wrapped around his knees, facing the door.

    Mack’s jaw tightened angrily. The little freak had begun sleeping like that, so it was difficult to tell whether he was asleep or awake. He kicked the door savagely, and thought he saw the prisoner twitch slightly. Good, I must’ve woke him, he thought. He slammed open the view port.

    “Hey Slovnyk!”

    No reaction.

    “Since you’re already dead, you got no rights at all. You ain’t never walking out of here. How’s that fit in your plans?” Grundy laughed, and slammed the cover closed. He’d let Slovyk think about that for a while before the next playtime.

    Mack took one last glance at the monitor before he moved on to the next cell. The prisoner hadn’t moved one millimeter, as far as he could tell.

    Nearly three weeks passed, and Slovnyk now cringed fearfully whenever Mack appeared. Before long, Mack would own Slovnyk, down to the last broken thought.

    A new prisoner was putting up a fight against the guards down at the end of the row of cells. From the sound of it, they’d be carrying his corpse out within the hour. While the rest of the guards had their fun, Grundy decided this was the perfect chance to do some real damage to Slovnyk with no witnesses. He pulled out the neural probe and unlocked the cell door, and froze. Slovnyk was nowhere in sight.

    Something slammed down on him from above, and the neural probe clattered to the floor. A moment later, agony exploded in his face and down through his limbs, and he fell to his knees.

    Jared pulled the neural probe out of Grundy’s mouth, and wrapped his hands around the guard’s throat. Then he quickly stripped Grundy and put on his uniform. The rest of the guards were still busy pounding on what was left of the new prisoner. Jared had no difficulty impersonating Grundy long enough to get past the lockpoints. Minutes later, he was on open land, with the blood of several guards staining his hands.

    He did not stop running for several hours, but finally found a safe enough shelter beneath some twisted roots. He settled into a badly needed sleep, but was unable to escape his dreams so easily.

    Once again, he found himself in the desert of his childhood. Once again he watched the scorpion in the jar twitch, and slow down, and finally lay motionless. Once again, he lifted the cover and reached inside. Once again, he gasped in pain as the stinger stabbed into his finger. He yanked back his hand. The scorpion sailed through the air and flopped to the sand several feet away. A moment later, it regained its footing and scrambled to safety.

    And once again, this happy dream faded into the darkness of the nightmare that had visited him every night. And he woke shivering, with the accusing gaze of Jess’s dead eyes burned into his brain.
  2. Raven
    This is really good Dave. I've actually really enjoyed reading about another character from the Rat pack universe. ;) The insight into Jared just sheds more light onto his character. You know I never had the heart to kill him off.

    I'd love to see you write a story that follows on from the end of Cold Pursuit the first Rybok story.

    Well hears to hoping. ;)
  3. Torana
    Not bad at all Dave. It gave good insight into the character and was a really enjoyable read as well.

    I look forward to reading the next piece that you write. :)
  4. sprb_skrbblz
    chills, man... i got chills... **thumbs up**
  5. Aristocrazy
    The only real problem I have with this is the fight depictions: granted, its a short story, however I think taking out 4 guards in a short paragraph really didn't flow well for me. It did have a cool "punchy" feel to it.... however if you know hannibal from "the silence of the lambs" he takes out his two guards in quick brutal fashion but you can tell if you were to notate that down onto paper it would take a bit of writing to accurately describe it.

    so ya, my advice is to add some description to the fighting and make it clearer/ flow better cause when you have such badass characters you'd be surprised how hard it is to lose the brutal, "punchy" feel.

    but all in all, pretty kicken
  6. JavaMan
    Excellent! Where there there any subtle meanings in the names of the characters?

    Reading this takes me back to the days that I used to re-read Eric Van Lustbader's "Shan". To be perfectly honest, I was hoping the prisoner would be able to break out - but I always root for the underdog...

    Thanks for the read! - I learned alot!
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