Title: Escape

Author: SAVIORA

f.m.boyd@worldnet.att.net

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters(which are the property of Amblin Entertainment), I don't profit from the characters, and I don't wish harm upon the actual people who play the characters(I only wish to screw around with the FAKE personas)

This story is complete, although it begs for a sequel and/or prequel, and it takes place during the second season, only Doctor Westphalen is still around, and Lucas has a sister named Amy, who is 4 years old and doesn't speak.

This story came out of the blue(in other words, a peculiar dream I had one stressful night before school exams)so the plot may be a little...dark and twisted.

This story should definitely have an R rating, but since it will include mild swearing, references to past child abuse, sexual assault/rape, and a form of "euthanasia/mercy killing" so to speak, the rating should probably be NC-17. Do not read if you don't have a strong mental wall.

I don't belong to any kind of fandom, I'm just freelancing. Feel free to add this to ELF archives if it is deemed worthy. If not, trash it, burn it, etc.



ESCAPE
by SAVIORA

What time is it?

Lucas awoke at the thought. He hadn't asked that question for a very long time; he didn't know exactly how long, since his captor hadn't bothered to keep him updated in that department. Lucas had had a watch earlier, but he wasn't quite sure what had happened to it. It didn't matter, because he couldn't see jackshit in the pitch dark room he was being kept in.

He opened his eyes wide, hoping in vain that perhaps his vision had adapted to his dark surroundings. Fat chance. The only light he ever saw was the light from the flashlight that signaled the presence of his captor, and Lucas didn't know who he was, what he had to gain from the abduction, or what he planned to do in the near future. He had stopped asking, he had stopped caring a long time ago, about the same time he had stopped asking himself what time it was.

Lucas knew what he wanted: to escape. He had had enough of whoever was keeping him here. He had had enough of that Sadist and his flashlight searing his eyes, he had had enough of being systematically tortured, he had had enough of having to listen to the screams of the Sadist's other prisoner.

Lucas felt her stir in his lap, heard a tiny gasp and then soft weeping. He gathered her up in his arms and rocked her gently, letting her know he was still here. "I'm here, just relax. Don't move, baby, you need to heal...Shhhhhhhh," He whispered soothingly.

She needed to heal physically, emotionally, and mentally. Lucas didn't know if she would make it out alive, and if she did, would she ever recover from this? She would never speak, of that he was certain. She had never spoken, even as a baby; other babies made "oooooo" and "aaaaahhh" sounds when they were met by their parents' smiling faces. But Amy had never seen her parents smiling at her, if they ever looked at her at all. She had no reason to suddenly say "ma-ma" or "da-da." Lucas closed his eyes at the painful memories that entered his exhausted mind. Bad enough that Lucas was around, in the way of his parents' lives, but Amy was never meant to be. Ever.

She shouldn't be. And the Wolenczaks made every effort to pretend that that was the case. Every day of Amy's life was met by only the bare necessities; food, clothing, shelter. Her mother would change her diapers and give her cold milk simply to stop her cries, so the house would have peace and quiet once again. Lucas had begun to bathe her himself out of pity, since Cynthia only bothered to do it if the stench Amy developed became noticeable to houseguests. Lucas had taken note of the fact early on that Amy was a lonely child who knew that she was unwanted, unloved, forced to live an existence of being seen, but not heard. Would Amy even realize that she existed?

Would she have developed any keen awareness of herself if it hadn't been for Lucas' love and attention? Amy had Lucas and her coloring book to hold onto, just as Lucas had Amy to hold onto as a conformation that he did actually have a purpose in his life, a reason to keep going despite his father's brutal abuse. Amy loved him and needed him to be loved, as Lucas needed her so he would have someone to love and love him back, so he wanted to protect her and help her-as any parent would, he liked to think-to survive this Hellhole, to escape the Damnable Sadist and his fucking 200-watt flashlight, and his paralyzing drugs, and his horrible sex.

Lucas buried his face in her hair, and was met by a smell that was faintly sweet and sour, a smell that he had become too familiar with: dried blood.

It was all over them from past attacks, mostly on their legs and face. Lucas also smelled something else that was familiar only to him, causing him to absently rub his thighs, encrusted with the clear stuff beneath his loose jeans. Please, no more of that. They smelled of urine, too. The first attack had caused them to shit themselves in a panic. The Sadist would come, complete with his flashlight to guide him in, and he would then locate the two of them in the darkness; the light would go out when he found them.

Lucas didn't know how he could see at that point, but the sadist would proceed to either beat the two of them one at a time, or he would inject Lucas with some kind of drug that he figured was the same kind used on patients in hospitals to keep them still during surgery. The effect was nightmarish, especially since it was real, and was followed by screaming, screaming, screaming...

Lucas preferred to be beaten. At least then he knew what was happening to himself and Amy, and then he had a tiny fragment of control. But with that drug...helplessness, so much helplessness.

No more no more no more no more no more. No more. He wanted to escape, but first he wanted to inject the Sadist with his own medicine and beat him to death, so he would know what he was feeling. What she was feeling. Oh God, lying there, unable to move, unable to speak, scream, cry, protect Amy from the Monster, his eyes open, seeing nothing, but hearing everything.

Screaming, screaming, screaming...then the door would slam shut and lock. But sometimes it didn't, sometimes Lucas would feel the Monster bear down on him, touch him, hurt him...

Lucas cradled Amy in his arms and shuddered. He began to cry just as Amy's weeping stopped, and he felt Amy wrap her arms around him to comfort him, but Lucas sobbed loudly as he heard a door open, and a bright light suddenly flooded the room.

"Fuck you! Get the Fuck out and leave her alone, you motherless bastard! I'll kill you! Please...," His hysterical tone had quieted to a hoarse, pleading whisper, "Please take me. Do whatever you've planned, just not to her, PLEASE. She can't...she can't take anymore. I...I can, please."

Something occurred to him. He wanted to get out now, so he decided he needed to find a way to keep the Monster's focus just on him...he would find an opportunity, if one presented itself. God, please give me one.

"She's so weak right now and you'll kill her...and if you kill her, you can't play with her anymore. What good is that? Please take me, I..." He swallowed, and heard the voice that he wished didn't belong to him at that moment say, "I want it." Come and get me, you fucking son-of-a-bitch, he thought, almost eagerly.

Amy had been raped many, many times. He had lost count of the Sadist's visits. Lucas had endured him twice, maybe three times, he wasn't sure anymore. He could no longer separate his suffering from Amy's; he felt what she felt. Despite that, he felt he could survive another one, but Amy couldn't, sure as hell.

He knew the Monster would take his offer. He said to his baby sister in a rush, "It's alright, everything will be fine. You're safe, don't worry about me I'll be fine, I will, I'll be alright." She wept briefly as Lucas put her down on the cold floor beside him, and gave her a little push away from him.

Amy stopped crying and crawled to the other side of the room, as the Monster approached Lucas.

Grabbing Lucas by the ankles, the Monster pulled Lucas legs out, forcing him out of his sitting position. The Monster straddled him as he lay flat on his back, too scared to resist or attempt to attack his captor.

Gripped with terror, Lucas shook violently, almost as if a seizure had begun to coarse through his body; with his face close to Lucas', the Monster could sense his distress.

"Shhhhh. Here." This was the first time he had spoken to either of his prisoners. Lucas didn't recognize the voice, but he did recognize a syringe as it entered through the skin of his left arm.

"Oh no, no...oh please, God..." Lucas wasn't sure if he said that or thought it, but he felt himself weaken, and he felt sleepy...but he could still move. What? The drug usually took effect immediately. He only felt sedated now, not paralyzed. This one was different. This time was different, he could feel it. He could also almost feel his captor's expression. Was he smiling? It seemed he was silently laughing at Lucas, at his pain, at his sister's suffering. Lucas shut his eyes as he then felt the Monster bend down further, to kiss him.

Lucas covered his face with his hands, as if trying to block out the darkness itself. He wanted to block out the grunting. He wanted to ignore the Monster's invasion of his body, of his life. Imagining that this individual was his father was almost a comfort to Lucas. His father would have an excuse, a reason. This Sadist had yet to offer either.

It's over, a comforting voice in his head said as he felt the Monster leave his body, and then get off of him. There was silence. Then...screaming.

"Ah, Jesus...NO! it's okay Amy, please, I'm here...you sick bastard, get off her or I'll kill you...Just me please! JUST ME!"

Lucas summoned what strength he could, despite the sedative. Mind over matter, Lucas, mind over matter, the voice in his head said. He moved his hands around the floor, in search of anything in his rage and fear. Then he felt it...the syringe.

The jackass must have put it there and forgotten to pick it up; an opportunity. Lucas tried to get up and failed, but then he thought about the seaQuest, he thought about Amy, Captain Bridger, Doctor Westphalen, Krieg...

Pushing himself up with the shear power of his will, Lucas lunged in the direction of the Monster with pure adrenaline powering his body. As he flung himself on the man, he stabbed him with the syringe. He stopped struggling within seconds. Amy lay sobbing underneath him.

Lucas searched for the flashlight. Finding it a few feet away from Amy, he turned it on a searched for a light switch, praying there was one, to turn on the light in the room. He shined it in the direction of the door.

The flashlight beam unsteadily skimmed over it a tiny switch, which Amy spotted. She wiggled out from under the Monster, got up on unsteady legs and toddled to the switch, reached up on tip-toe and...

The light was blinding to them both after all this time. Both Lucas and Amy let out small cries as they covered their adjusting eyes, and Lucas noticed that the room was completely white and bigger than he had first imagined it to be. The Monster was laying a few feet away, lying on his stomach, wearing night vision goggles. He turned to his sister, blinking. Amy was blurry to him, but he could see enough to know that she looked like death warmed over: pale, dirty, encrusted with blood, hair matted, eyes red and sad and haunted. So small, she was. Looking around, Lucas noticed the Monster had put a slice of bread and a cup of water in the room-never bothering to tell them where it was, of course-for both of them. Lucas spotted it in another corner of the room they never sat near before, and immediately went to it.

Amy crawled after him as Lucas divided the bread into two uneven sections and gave Amy the cup so she could drink some of the water first. He gave Amy the bigger half of the bread and ate the remaining half himself. After scarfing down the bread and drinking a little too fast, Amy suddenly wretched...then vomited. Lucas put her in his lap and held her as she began to sob uncontrollably.

A few hours have gone by, he figured, as he tried to console Amy's wails.

She was in pain now, he realized, not just upset. Poor baby, there's nothing I can do for her...I can get her out of here, but someone else might be out there and they'll hear her...I don't know what's beyond that door, besides freedom. Where's the seaQuest? Where is this place? Am I in the ocean or on land? Shhhhhhh, honey....shhhhhhh, everything's okay now, he can't hurt you anymore. I won't let him.

While rocking Amy slowly, Lucas tried to think of a plan. His mind worked furiously and sweat beaded on his forehead. What to do, what to do. He had to calm Amy before he could do anything. God, he was so fucking sore...Amy must be about twenty times as sore, he figured, no wonder she couldn't stop crying. Tears welled in his eyes as he thought about Amy...and the Monster.

The syringe. Lucas sat up straight. A little bit of that sedative might relax her. Lucas picked her and himself up off the floor and slowly approached the Sadist, seeing the syringe still stuck in his shoulder.

It must have been completely full of the stuff, since Lucas had obviously injected enough to incapacitate him, and yet there was still a generous amount still left. Pulling out the syringe slowly, he sat down once again with his aching sister in his lap.

"I have something that will calm you down. I know It hurts, baby, I know, but I need you to quiet down so we can get out of here. This will help you sleep, see, it will pinch a little, and then you'll sleep, and when you wake up we'll be on the seaQuest and Dr. Westphalen can make the pain go away and make you all better, she will. I promise, honey...I love you."

Lucas injected Amy as he bent down to kiss her forehead. His thoughts were relieved: he would be escaping with her, they had survived, they were together. They would soon be with Bridger and Westphalen again...and Darwin, who could forget Darwin. Best of all, Amy would get better. She could get better away from here. He would make her better, the doctor would make her better. He felt his hand grip the syringe tighter, thinking about how it would help end all this. Maybe he should give himself some more, too.

That wouldn't be possible, he realized suddenly. His stomach sank with growing horror as he realized he had used all of the sedative on Amy. Jesus, she would be out for the rest of the day probably. He prayed that it wasn't too much, that she would wake up when they were home unharmed. Looking at her, he studied her eyes, which had closed, hiding the sky blue circles behind them. Her light reddish brown hair reminded Lucas of his parents-his father particularly-as her softened expression reminded Lucas of his mother when she wasn't too tense or on a rampage. She had that look one time when she was changing her diapers, which was odd, since she had detested that chore enough to make Lucas do it most of the time. Amy had that same calm look as the sedative worked its way through her system, relaxing her entirely. Of course her crying had stopped by now.

Lucas smiled down at her and pulled her close to hold her to him...and stiffened. Fear emerged; he could hear her heart beat, and it was slowing down. That would not have been a cause to panic if it weren't for the fact that it was also become irregular as it became slower, and slower, and slower...too slow for Amy to live. Amy paled in her brother's arms.

"Oh god, Amy, no, What did I do? I'm so sorry, I...I didn't mean to...Oh God, what did I do to you?!" He was becoming hysterical again, at the thought that she wouldn't survive...because of him. Not because of the Monster, but because OF HIM.

"Please hang on baby, I can't lose you now, please...please!" he began to cry while he begged her, almost screaming in her face in hopes that she would hear: "God, Amy please come back, come back, COME BACK TO ME GODAMNIT! oh no, Amy...I'm so sorry!"

Amy had the smallest of smiles on her face as she felt herself slipping away from everything. She remembered her brother's love and felt it wash over her...she felt cool water around her and felt Darwin's presence, heard Westphalen chuckling at Bridger's light joke. Then she felt the pounding.

Pounding in her ears, pounding on her chest, pounding far away from her.

Then it all stopped.

Lucas collapsed in defeat, guilt, rage, and sadness. CPR hadn't helped her.

Nothing could. He was beyond hysteria...he was retreating now, into his head, where no one could hurt him, touch him, point a finger at him. It was bad enough; he knew Amy was dead at his hands...it was his fault, not the Monster's.

The far away pounding came closer and a shot rang out as the door locks were destroyed. Kicking in the door, Commander Ford entered like a bullet, followed by Lieutenant Brody and four others. Ford spotted Lucas and his heart jumped when he saw him leaning over Amy, who was limp and pale.

He then spotted the man in the corner and a syringe lying on the floor between him and the two siblings. Ford figured that the dead man must have murdered Amy, and Lucas, in a rage, must have killed him in turn, with whatever was in the needle.

"Commander! This man is still alive," one officer announced. The Commander nodded at Brody, who began giving orders to the other officers as Ford approached Lucas carefully.

"Lucas? What happened here? Is she...?" Ford stopped and tried to pry the little girl out of Lucas' arms to examine her. Lucas gave her up easily in his anguish. She was like a rag doll, Ford noted. No pulse. Oh, Lucas...

"She's dead," he announced mechanically to the others. Lucas obviously knew that already. By now he was curled up on the floor, silent. "I'm so sorry Lucas...I know how close you two were."

Lucas suddenly grabbed Ford's collar and stared into his face. In a low, dangerous tone he asked, "Who was he?" He pointed at the Monster.

"We don't know who he is yet, but we'll find out when he wakes up."

"He's not dead?"

"No, only sedated.

Lucas curled back up on the floor, whispering "I didn't mean to."

"What Lucas? What do you mean?"

No answer.

Worried, Ford looked back to the other officers, "Let's get them out of here," he ordered them, hoping that an explanation awaited them back on the boat.



END

There might be sequel, prequel, whatever, but only if you e-mail me at f.m.boyd@worldnet.att.net(or .com)and tell me that it's good and you want more(more detail or more character or more dialogue, be specific. I am here to serve the ELF community). Then again if you think it sucks, if you think I should stop writing, or if you think I should check myself into the nearest Asylum, tell me that, too.