Fic - Violated (Chapter 10)
Title: Violated
Author: Carole B.
Series: Torchwood
Characters: Gwen Cooper, Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness, PC Andy Davidson, Owen Harper
Pairings: Ianto/Jack, Owen/Other
Gen/Het/Slash: Het, Slash
Warnings: Torture, Forced Sex, Violence, Language
Rating: R/NC-17 for the Prologue
Crossover: None
Word Count: 15,600
Beta: Time Hound
Summary: A serial killer has been flouncing around Cardiff, using the name Jack Harkness. When the team starts investigating the murders, they have doubt whether it is really Jack or not. To their shock, they find out it is someone really close to them, someone who shouldn’t exist.
Author’s Notes: Written for the 2011 tw-bigbang. Big thank you to my awesome artist hollymarchosias. Thanks to my friends who pushed this to get down, and thanks to Liz who gave me last minute line changes. The Prologue is very dark and graphic - if you wish you can skip over the Prologue and start with Chapter 1.
CHAPTER NINE
Artwork by hollymarchosias
Chapter 10
Andy opened his eyes, unsurprised to find himself still in darkness. He snorted, trying to keep his nose clear so he wouldn’t choke with the gag in his mouth. He slowly started taking stock of the situation he found himself in.
One of the dead people from Torchwood had poisoned him - or something - and dragged him back to a building that smelled of dust, wood and mould. Not enough to narrow that down. His hands were still cuffed behind his back, with his own cuffs. If he ever made it out of here, he knew no one would let him live that down. He tried to move his shoulders, noticing a lack of ability to go anywhere. Arching his back, Andy could make out the rope that went through his arms holding him down to the table. At least it felt like a table.
He flexed his feet, noticing they were still tied together, but at least he could feel them. Small victories he could accept. Andy stopped breathing as he heard something shuffle in the darkness to his right. Evenly measured footsteps headed straight for him, stopping right above him. The goosebumps danced along his neck as something started breathing in his ear. There was nothing. No smell. Just there, and hot breath along his skin.
“How about round three?” a masculine voice said next to him.
He tried to shake his head no, hoping this creature could see it in the dark. It seemed to see him. Every bruise it had left on his body, every pressure point it had manipulated were all such direct attacks. How could he see so well in the pitch black?
“Too bad I don’t feel like listening to you. Was never much on respecting authority.”
Andy could feel fingers run through his hair and then tightened around his locks, yanking his head upwards. The cry got lost in his throat. Another hand seemed to slither around his neck, the thumb pressing against his Adam’s apple. He could feel himself choking and wasn’t able to do a thing. The hand in his hair yanked down, knocking his head against the solid table, sending shooting pains through his skull.
Trying to breathe, he vaguely noticed the hands leave his body. He struggled against the ropes, willing to wager anything with God for a chance to escape. One of the hands smacked down against his stomach, making his insides cramp up. It felt like all his upper torso consisted of anymore was bruises.
“I’m sorry. Didn’t I tell you? You’re not leaving here. In fact, you’ll be lucky if the police find your rotting remains before they tear this building down.”
Andy was partly surprised the tears wouldn’t come. Maybe it was all the police training, or dealing with Torchwood; or maybe it was just an understanding of knowing how he would die. He tried to breathe, wishing he could have left a note for his parents, or his friends, or even Gwen.
He could hands moving up his body and cutting away the remains of his uniform shirt and vest. As the fingers pressed along his sides, the pain made him acutely aware of every centimetre they moved. Despite the darkness, or maybe in defiance of it and what was coming, he kept his eyes wide open.
Suddenly there was something like a blade in front of his face. It seemed to glow, despite no light to bounce off of it. His eyes followed the light as it hovered over his chest. The blade dipped down and back up. It wasn’t until nearly a minute later that he could feel the warmth start spreading across his chest. Andy started to choke as he could feel his skin move around the cut under his breast.
Somewhere across the room it sounded like a rocket went off as there was a flood of blinding light in the room. Andy winced, scrunching his eyes shut against the light. His movements seemed to open him up to a whole new level of pain across his chest and body. Cracking his eyes open a slit, he could make out some bloke in a long coat standing in the doorway, and a gun pointed at him and the guy that had taken him.
“Step away from him. Now!” Andy’s body jerked at the familiar voice.
A maniacal laugh greeted their ears from the guy with the knife. Andy shivered. He had never heard a laugh like that before, except in those old movies depicting life in a crazy house.
“Ianto, help Andy.”
Andy tried to yell at them, to tell them to hurry. He was getting cold. He could see a figure move around the bloke in the coat, but before they could get to him, fresh pain jolted across his forehead and he slipped into unconsciousness.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Author: Carole B.
Series: Torchwood
Characters: Gwen Cooper, Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness, PC Andy Davidson, Owen Harper
Pairings: Ianto/Jack, Owen/Other
Gen/Het/Slash: Het, Slash
Warnings: Torture, Forced Sex, Violence, Language
Rating: R/NC-17 for the Prologue
Crossover: None
Word Count: 15,600
Beta: Time Hound
Summary: A serial killer has been flouncing around Cardiff, using the name Jack Harkness. When the team starts investigating the murders, they have doubt whether it is really Jack or not. To their shock, they find out it is someone really close to them, someone who shouldn’t exist.
Author’s Notes: Written for the 2011 tw-bigbang. Big thank you to my awesome artist hollymarchosias. Thanks to my friends who pushed this to get down, and thanks to Liz who gave me last minute line changes. The Prologue is very dark and graphic - if you wish you can skip over the Prologue and start with Chapter 1.
CHAPTER NINE
Artwork by hollymarchosias
Chapter 10
Andy opened his eyes, unsurprised to find himself still in darkness. He snorted, trying to keep his nose clear so he wouldn’t choke with the gag in his mouth. He slowly started taking stock of the situation he found himself in.
One of the dead people from Torchwood had poisoned him - or something - and dragged him back to a building that smelled of dust, wood and mould. Not enough to narrow that down. His hands were still cuffed behind his back, with his own cuffs. If he ever made it out of here, he knew no one would let him live that down. He tried to move his shoulders, noticing a lack of ability to go anywhere. Arching his back, Andy could make out the rope that went through his arms holding him down to the table. At least it felt like a table.
He flexed his feet, noticing they were still tied together, but at least he could feel them. Small victories he could accept. Andy stopped breathing as he heard something shuffle in the darkness to his right. Evenly measured footsteps headed straight for him, stopping right above him. The goosebumps danced along his neck as something started breathing in his ear. There was nothing. No smell. Just there, and hot breath along his skin.
“How about round three?” a masculine voice said next to him.
He tried to shake his head no, hoping this creature could see it in the dark. It seemed to see him. Every bruise it had left on his body, every pressure point it had manipulated were all such direct attacks. How could he see so well in the pitch black?
“Too bad I don’t feel like listening to you. Was never much on respecting authority.”
Andy could feel fingers run through his hair and then tightened around his locks, yanking his head upwards. The cry got lost in his throat. Another hand seemed to slither around his neck, the thumb pressing against his Adam’s apple. He could feel himself choking and wasn’t able to do a thing. The hand in his hair yanked down, knocking his head against the solid table, sending shooting pains through his skull.
Trying to breathe, he vaguely noticed the hands leave his body. He struggled against the ropes, willing to wager anything with God for a chance to escape. One of the hands smacked down against his stomach, making his insides cramp up. It felt like all his upper torso consisted of anymore was bruises.
“I’m sorry. Didn’t I tell you? You’re not leaving here. In fact, you’ll be lucky if the police find your rotting remains before they tear this building down.”
Andy was partly surprised the tears wouldn’t come. Maybe it was all the police training, or dealing with Torchwood; or maybe it was just an understanding of knowing how he would die. He tried to breathe, wishing he could have left a note for his parents, or his friends, or even Gwen.
He could hands moving up his body and cutting away the remains of his uniform shirt and vest. As the fingers pressed along his sides, the pain made him acutely aware of every centimetre they moved. Despite the darkness, or maybe in defiance of it and what was coming, he kept his eyes wide open.
Suddenly there was something like a blade in front of his face. It seemed to glow, despite no light to bounce off of it. His eyes followed the light as it hovered over his chest. The blade dipped down and back up. It wasn’t until nearly a minute later that he could feel the warmth start spreading across his chest. Andy started to choke as he could feel his skin move around the cut under his breast.
Somewhere across the room it sounded like a rocket went off as there was a flood of blinding light in the room. Andy winced, scrunching his eyes shut against the light. His movements seemed to open him up to a whole new level of pain across his chest and body. Cracking his eyes open a slit, he could make out some bloke in a long coat standing in the doorway, and a gun pointed at him and the guy that had taken him.
“Step away from him. Now!” Andy’s body jerked at the familiar voice.
A maniacal laugh greeted their ears from the guy with the knife. Andy shivered. He had never heard a laugh like that before, except in those old movies depicting life in a crazy house.
“Ianto, help Andy.”
Andy tried to yell at them, to tell them to hurry. He was getting cold. He could see a figure move around the bloke in the coat, but before they could get to him, fresh pain jolted across his forehead and he slipped into unconsciousness.
CHAPTER ELEVEN