Prisoner

vastrix (59)in #roleplaying • 6 years ago (edited)

Four walls, a toilet, a cot, and a door with a barred window that has a sliding door.

This has been the room of “God’s Gift” Jeremiah Vastrix since the show was aired. A prisoner of the United States.

It’s not like he would have expected any less. It was surprising that he hadn’t already been executed for his attempted assassination of the President. He knows that if he had attempted such a thing upon his own father, the ceo of the Warhammer Corporation, that his body would have already been ashes in the wind.

Jeremiah Vastrix for his part is on the floor doing push ups. He’s paced the cell, done sit ups, and any other exercise that he can think of doing to prepare himself for his upcoming match and to keep his mind from straying near the deepest, darkest pits of grief and despair.

He had not killed the President and so he is certain that the antidote was not given to the love of his life in Olivia Cooke.

The weight of the guilt brings Jeremiah down to the floor, tears streaming to the tiled floor to join the dried remnants of others that have already been spilled.

Dr. Summeroff claimed to have not known that the plot to kill the President came from his own ranks. He claimed that Jeremiah had gone out on his own. This is the price of claiming so many followers in such a short period of time. You never know when your followers might do something extraordinarily stupid and on their own.
Jeremiah sighs. He gets the chance to avenge himself against Brock Abishag. A grudge match to be able to smash the buffoon for the attack against him after they lost the tag team championship.

He gets the chance to avenge himself against one of Summeroff’s followers. For getting him into this mess in the first place. For getting him to try to kill the President and the murder of the woman that he intended to be his wife. Summeroff created all of these extra followers with whatever was in the rancid rain that he sprayed upon innocent people.

Summeroff himself may not have poured the poison into Olivia’s glass, but he may as well have. Jeremiah would see that Abishag paid and Summeroff paid.

The window to the door slides open and the face of a guard peers in.

GUARD: Stay where you are with your hands behind your back. We’re coming in.

Jeremiah obediently lays on the floor, placing his hands behind his back. Two guards come into the room and place handcuffs on Jeremiah and haul him up so that he can walk with them.

JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Soo. Where are we going?

GUARD: Silent!

JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I only ask because I was wonder if I should be wearing my good prison uniform for the firing squad.

The other guard chuckles, but goes silent at a uttered curse from the first guard.

GUARD: You tried to kill the President of the United States of America. You should be happy that you aren’t swinging from a yardarm right about now.

JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Guess that means that I will not be getting executed quite just yet. We having a playdate?

Jeremiah is brought into a small room, sat into a chair with his hands chained to the seat. The guards walk out of the room and Secretary of Defense, James Brattis, walks into the room. He sniffs loudly as he paces in front of Jeremiah.

JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I don’t do the stuff, but if you let me go I can get ahold of the stuff for you.

JAMES BRATTIS: What now?

JEREMIAH VASTRIX: That was a blow sniff if I ever heard one.

James stops in his tracks, turns, and backhands Jeremiah across the face. Jeremiah cackles as blood trickles from a split lip.

JAMES BRATTIS: I have allergies if you must know. I don’t do blow.

JEREMIAH VASTRIX: C’mon now, man. You’re a politician in Washington. Of course you do blow and hookers. I can get ya bot-

This time, James uses a closed fist to strike Jeremiah. The impact nearly sends Jeremiah backwards, chair and all.

Jeremiah spits blood onto the floor and glares at James, who rubs at his fist.

JAMES BRATTIS: I take it that you know to behave yourself? We can do this shit all night if we have to.

JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Eat me.

JAMES BRATTIS: Maybe later. I need to know why you decided to try to kill the President.

JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Did you ask in the form of a question?

James motions as if he’s going to slap Jeremiah again, but stops with a smile.

JAMES BRATTIS: Why did you try to kill our President.

JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I didn’t vote, being multinational in my citizenship. So he’s not my President exactly.

JAMES BRATTIS: Why did you try to kill President McStrump?

Jeremiah sighs. It’s not as if he hasn’t already answered this question over and over again during the course of the last few days. It isn’t as if this were the only meeting that he has had with Brattis.

JEREMIAH VASTRIX: My friends asked me to and said that they would kill my girlfriend if I did not do as I was told in killing him within twenty-four hours. There isn’t much more to say.

James nods with his hands behind his back as he begins to pace once again.

JAMES BRATTIS: The ammo that you used is unlike anything that we’ve ever seen before. Was it made by the Warhammer Corporation? We want to buy the ammo for the military.

Jeremiah seems to consider speaking, but then shakes his head.

James nods before punching Jeremiah a few times in the gut before smashing him in the side of the head with an elbow. He sniffs again before speaking.

JAMES BRATTIS: That’s not the answer that I was looking for. Tell me where you got the kind of gun and ammo needed to do a mission like this! This ammo would have destroyed half of the President’s body if it had struck him.

JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Get fucking bent…

The Secretary of State spends the next few minutes using Jeremiah as a punching bag, adding to the already deep bruises and cuts. James steps back, blood dripping from his clenched fists.

JAMES BRATTIS: We know the weapon and ammo are from the Warhammer Corporation. We just want to know which member company we need to be buying from. Tell me!

Jeremiah spits blood at the man and laughs.

JEREMIAH VASTRIX: You may as well have me executed for treason. I won’t be telling you jack and squat.

JAMES BRATTIS: Not even to save the life of your girlfriend?

Jeremiah frowns. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out.

JAMES BRATTIS: She’s very much alive and at a hospital to deal with the poison in her veins. She is getting an antidote to combat the poison, but only enough to keep her alive and not awaken her. We will finish curing her when you cooperate. Fail and we will let her die…

Jeremiah glares at the Secretary of Defense for a long time, blood drooling from the corner of his mouth. James just smiles, lighting. up a cigarette. He blows smoke in Jeremiah’s general direction with a chuckle.

JAMES BRATTIS: What? You had plenty to say before. You’ve got nothing to say right now? Come on, boy, I’m sure you’ve got the info I need rolling around in your head right now. Just say the word and your girlfriend will live.

Jeremiah makes a “pffft” sound with his mouth, spraying blood at James.

JEREMIAH VASTRIX: My girlfriend already died when I failed to kill the President.

JAMES BRATTIS: Are you certain? Have you seen the body? Did you see the light leave her eyes as she cried great tears in the knowing that you failed to keep her alive?

Jeremiah throws his weight forward to try to break his chains, but the chains hold and the chair remains in place.

JEREMIAH VASTRIX: You know I was unable to see her! I was not able to hold her hand at the last! Let me out of these chains so I can break your fu-what is that? What are you doing?

James dials a phone, turning the screen to face Jeremiah where Johnny Melange answers the video call. He looks like he’s been awake forever.

JOHNNY MELANGE: Jeremiah? What have they done to you?

Jeremiah shakes his head with a weak smile.

JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Nothing that I did not expect. What are you doing?

JOHNNY MELANGE: I’m sitting with sleeping beauty.

JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Sleeping…are you saying what I think your saying?

Johnny turns the camera view of the phone to over where Olivia Cooke lays sleeping peacefully in a hospital bed with an IV hooked to her arm.

JOHNNY MELANGE: She’s being treated now. She’s alive and just needs her true love kiss to awaken.

A button press hangs up the phone and Jeremiah is left to look at James’ grinning face.

JAMES BRATTIS: Well?

JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I will tell you everything you need to know. I don’t know if they’ll sell to you, but I will tell you where I got them from.

JAMES BRATTIS: Good. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Maybe we’ll let you into a work out room later so you can get ready to face that traitor, Abishag. Maybe we’ll see about water proofing that cybernetic eye.

JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I owe Abishag a beating. So there’s that.

JAMES BRATTIS: Love it. Let’s get a medic and tech support in here to treat you up and then we will speak more.

In a gymnasium someplace unknown where a wrestling ring is set up, “God’s Gift” Jeremiah Vastrix stands in the middle of the ring with a sparring partner across from him. Secretary of Defense, James Brattis, stands outside of the ring.

JAMES BRATTIS: I would like for you to treat your sparring partner like you would like to do for that traitor, Brock Abishag. Think you can do that for me? Mike Spanhook won’t mind it a bit. Right, Mike?

The sparring partner, named Mike Spanhook, waves awkwardly to James.

MIKE SPANHOOK: Umm, yeah?

James points at Mike with both index fingers like his hands were guns as he laughs.

JAMES BRATTIS: Great. The medics are already on their way.

MIKE SPANHOOK: What? Whatever, man.

Mike throws a punch, but Jeremiah catches him by the wrist, and begins the motion for an Irish Whip. Instead of following through with the whips to the ropes, Jeremiah starts an armbar. He palm strikes the back of Mike’s elbow with enough force to hyperextend the joint until-

snap!

Mike screams as his arm snaps like a twig.

If that were the end of Jeremiah’s attack, it would have still been too much. He pulls Mike up into a power bomb position and drops Mike onto his head like a unprotected piledriver.

Mike quits screaming…

JAMES BRATTIS: That was quite the assault! Poor Spanhook didn’t know what the fuck hit him. Hey, Mikey! Are you dead?

MIKE SPANHOOK: I can’t feel or move anything below my neck. Is that bad?

JEREMIAH VASTRIX: It’s not good. They should be able to fix you up.

JAMES BRATTIS: Ain’t nothing that a public execution won’t fix.

MIKE SPANHOOK: What?

JAMES BRATTIS: Nothing.

Two soldiers come into the ring to drag the broken sparring partner away.

MIKE SPANHOOK: Ouch...probably.

James Brattis steps into the ring, placing a hand on Jeremiah’s shoulder with a grin.

JAMES BRATTIS: You’ll do fine in your match against Abishag so long as you keep to this level of bloodthirstiness.

Jeremiah just smirks.