DOGS of War

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Zack groaned slightly, trying to open his eyes. His eyelids felt heavy and he guessed that he’d been drugged. As his vision slowly came into focus, he took in everything he could without moving, in case he wasn't alone. He was laying on his side on a concrete floor, he could feel the cold of it bleeding through his sleeve to his right arm. The walls were a stark white. The room was rather small, and appeared to be empty. He groaned again when he lifted his left arm, trying to push himself off the floor. He felt groggy, disoriented. He sat up, immediately collapsing again as pain coursed along his spine, radiating out to his limbs. He lay still for a few minutes, gasping for breath. Okay, now he was beginning to worry. He sat up again, much more carefully this time, bending as little as possible. His back ached like nothing he’d ever felt before. His clothes had been taken, replaced with simple white cotton pants and a loose shirt of the same material. He was barefoot. He then noticed a heavy weight around his neck and reached up, his fingertips brushing against cold metal. A collar? Zack began to panic. A thick, metal collar encircled his throat. He gripped it as best he could and yanked on it, trying to dislodge the heavy band of steel. A new wave of pain surged through his spinal column, sending him right back down onto the floor and rendering him unconscious.

= = =

“The signal’s stopped moving.” Angeal looked down at the small tracking screen that shone brightly, illuminating his stern face in the dark. Nearly two days had passed since Zack had disappeared, the two SOLDIER firsts worrying that his final destination wouldn’t be reached before the pill had passed through his system. They had been tracking the beacon across the continent. Whatever means of transportation the enemy was using, it was fast.

“Are you sure they haven’t just stopped for a break or something?” Genesis asked, his concern evident.

“No, but we’ll head there, and keep an eye on the screen in case the beacon starts moving again.” Zack had given them the opportunity to track the villain back to his base. They wouldn’t ruin that, even if it meant the perky, black haired youth had to remain in their clutches that much longer.

= = =

Someone was watching him. Zack shivered slightly as he slowly regained consciousness under the constant stare. “That’s my good boy.” A bright, female voice drawled from above him. He tried to look up without turning his head, still very aware of the debilitating pain that the movement had caused last time he had tried it. He was in another white room, this one slightly larger than the last he’d been in. A tall woman with long, wavy blonde hair flowing down to her hips stood over him, staring down at him with a beaming grin.

“Where am I? Who are you?” he demanded, trying not to sound as shaky as he felt.

“I’m Angelika Einstürzen, your physician, my darling. If you’d prefer, you can call me mother,” she beamed down at him, completely oblivious to the shocked and disgusted expression on Zack’s face. “ And as for your other question… You,” she knelt down in front of him, “are my pet. And this,” she gestured to the room they were in, “is your home. That is all you need to know, sweetie.” She grinned down at him, reaching out to pet his hair. He pulled away, grimacing as the pain once again arced down his spine, though not nearly at the intensity it had been when he’d awoken last. He expected her to be angry at his defiance, but she merely laughed in his face. “Oh, you will be fun to break…” she murmured, lifting his chin so he looked her in the eyes as he grimaced at the pain. “Oh yes… you will be perfect…” she dropped his chin, swiftly standing and turning on her heel before heading out the door, locking it with an audible click behind her. Zack was confused and very apprehensive. He had no idea what he’d gotten himself into, but he was determined to do whatever he could to find and free those children from this twisted woman. Whatever had been done to him, he would happily face to get them out of here. Zack brought his hands to the collar around his throat, preparing to try ripping it off again.

“Don’t. You’ll hurt yourself.”

Zack turned to face the source of the softly spoken words. A pale boy with white hair was huddled in a corner, clearly using the walls for support. Despite his baggy clothing, Zack could easily tell that the boy was terribly undernourished and anorexically thin. Completely ignoring his own pain and discomfort, Zack half crawled, half ran over to the boy. “Hey, are you alright? It’s okay, I’m going to get us out of here,” he tried to reassure the boy. Upon closer inspection, Zack noticed he was wearing the same weighty collar, and his nearly white skin was taut over bones that were all too visible. Zack’s heart felt heavy just looking at him. “My name’s Zack,” he continued softly, “what’s your name?”

He frowned at that, looking unsure for a second, as though he were struggling to remember. He finally answered, “She… calls me… Haine.” He never lifted his gaze, his crimson eyes obscured by his scraggly white hair.

“Okay, Haine, where are you from?” He settled onto the floor in front of the other, trying to resist reaching out to stroke the other boy’s arm soothingly.

Haine continued looking at the floor. “I don’t remember. I… think I had a family… but I don’t remember them. She… killed them.” His voice was flat, emotionless.

Zack swallowed, trying to clear the lump that was rapidly forming in his throat. “Haine… where are the other kids?” he asked, almost dreading the answer.

He finally lifted his head, locking his pain-filled vermilion eyes with Zack’s kind, azure ones. “Dead.”

Zack’s jaw dropped in shock. “All of them? Haine, there were hundreds! What happened to them??” He immediately regretted asking the question, knowing full well that Haine had most likely been the sole survivor of whatever torment had killed the other kids, and that sort of thing was bound to be scarring. He was right. Haine’s head dropped again as he curled in on himself, his fingers lacing into his hair as he clutched at his head. He heaved, dry sobs escaping his tortured throat as he turned away, trying to burrow into the wall completely. Zack’s breath caught in his throat as he noticed the deep scar running from the base of the boy’s skull down into his shirt. Zack was quite certain that the scar ran the entire length of his back, down to his tailbone. Zack was also fairly certain that his own back now bore the same scar. He reached back tentatively, squeezing his eyes tightly shut and trying not to gag as his fingertips brushed against a neatly sutured incision. Acting purely on impulse, he reached out wrapping his arms around the younger boy and drawing him in close. He rocked the other, whispering apologies and promises of freedom that he himself was fast beginning to lose faith in.

~ ~ ~

Crossover is revealed! To those of you who have not yet been exposed to the glory and wonder that is Miwa Shirow's DOGS and DOGS: Bullets and Carnage; that is where Haine (as well as Einstürzen and a bit of background plot) is from.