Mark tossed his clothes into the basket, heading to one of the many showerheads lined up along the wall. Placing his feet on the yellow footprints, he asked over his shoulder. "What now?" Beside him, Kenny gruffly muttered out. "Hold your breath." Mark was only able to look at Kenny, before some white liquid was tossed over his back. The white liquid was thick and icy. Mark slammed his hands against the tile wall, muttering out through chattering teeth. "Mother fucker!" Kenny let out a squeal of his own, snapping over his shoulder. "What did you do?! Put it in a fucking freezer!" The man walked up behind Kenny, chuckling out. "Why yes. How did you guess?" Kenny started to say something, but the man dumped the rest of the bucket over his head. Mark felt someone move up behind him, telling him seriously. "Close your eyes and hold your breath." Mark obeyed seconds before the person dumped the bucket over his head. Mark's whole body was shivering, and it took everything he had to stay standing upright.
The man behind him dropped the bucket and stepped in to slather the liquid over every inch of his skin. Mark locked his jaw, clawing the wall as the man touched him in places that he would have beaten lesser men for. Kenny wasn't any better off. The guy rubbing him down had Kenny growling and grunting in frustration. Mark tried to bare it, until the man yanked off the bandage around his neck. A loud scream tore from Mark's throat, his vision blurring for a few seconds. The man tossed the bandage aside, then finished rubbing the liquid over his wounded neck. The guy with Kenny, pushed Kenny up against the wall, commenting in a creepy manner. "We have to stop meeting like this Kenny. I'm starting to notice when you lose weight." Kenny rolled his eyes, grumbling over his shoulder dryly. "That's not funny." The guy pushed Kenny's cheek until he faced the wall, whispering over his shoulder. "Oh, relax. This is as close to a six pack as I'm going to get." Kenny snorted, propping his arms up against the wall.
Mark did his best not to look at Kenny too much, but he couldn't help wondering if Sean could get a body like his one day. Kenny was pure lean muscle and every time he moved something flexed. The man behind Mark, tapped his hip and instructed him professionally. "Arms on the wall and cover your ears." Mark mimicked Kenny's position, watching Kenny's man grab the showerhead. The showerhead was narrow like a water hose and when he turned it on a hard jet of water shot out. Kenny covered the back of his head and ears, wincing loudly as the man turned the jet of water on him to wash off the liquid. Mark swallowed, then flinched himself as the water jet hit the back of his shoulders. The water was hot and beat his flesh like a million needles were being stabbed into him. It hurt worse in his sensitive areas. After his body was washed down, the men had them bend over more to wash out there hair. Once they were finished, they gestured them to the door at the end of the narrow hallway.
Upon passing through the doors, another man gave them a set of white hospital scrub clothes. While they took their time to slip them on, Mark asked Kenny curiously. "How often do you do this?" Kenny tied his pants, admitting with a hefty sigh. "Every time I leave the base. So... about every week or so. Just wait. You haven't seen the best part yet..." Mark huffed, stating out. "And you let your little sister go through this?" Kenny scoffed, pulling on his shirt as he said with a humorous chuckle. "No! Of course not. The women get nicer treatment..." Mark gawked at him and Kenny laughed before correcting seriously. "The women could be pregnant. So, their treatment is designed to be... stress free. With us... Well, I think it's a test to see what kind of shit we can fucking deal with. Root out the troublemakers and whatnot." Mark rolled his eyes, following Kenny to little hospital looking stalls. One man gestured Kenny in to sit and another beckoned Mark into a stall beside him. Mark sat down on the hospital bench, while the doctor in similar clothes with gloves and a face mask told him. "I'm just going to run you through a physical exam and take some fluids for testing. Just try to relax."
Mark rubbed his reddened skin, anxiously saying. "You're very thorough here." The doctor smirked behind his mask, writing things on a clipboard as he told him nicely. "That's our job. The more we take precautions, the safer the Colony is. To start, I'm going to ask if you have any allergies or medical conditions?" Mark swallowed, answering truthfully. "Ya. I've had surgeries in the past for tumors and clogged arties. I have ALDH2. Aldehyde dehydrogenase 2." The doctor looked over the chart with strange of eyes, before asking him curiously. "Nothing that needs insulin?" Mark shook his head, then stiffened. That was a weird question to ask... unless they went through his bag. The doctor confirmed it by saying softly. "The insulin in your bag. What's it for then?" Mark tried to stay still and calm as he defensively retorted. "I found them. I... I took them incase I ever came across someone that needed them. Thought I could barter them for supplies." The doctor scribbled something on the chart, then told him seriously. "You won't need to worry about that here. Plenty of supplies. We'll take them off your hands. We have people that can use them."
Mark's heart twisted in his chest. He didn't want to hurt people and yet he didn't want to lose Sean. He felt like the worst human alive. The doctor touched his neck, causing him to jerk out of his self-loathing. The doctor stilled, calmly telling him. "Sorry. I just want to get a look at it. You said a blow torch did this?" Mark swallowed, mumbling out slightly more honest. "Well... The branding iron was heated up by a blow torch... So, yes." The doctor shook his head, uttering out under his breath. "I don't understand some people. Looks like it was cared for... but it needs to be changed hourly for a few days." The doctor pulled a tube from a bag, squirting some gel onto his fingers to rub against his wound. The gel was soothing, and he welcomed it against his aching raw flesh. After it was bandaged up nicely, the doctor began the physical to check his overall health. He passed everything with flying colors. Even the prostate exam. He gave them a saliva swab, pissed in a cup, let them draw blood. By the time he was done, he just wanted to crash somewhere people wouldn't touch him.
Instead, he was taken to a glass room with beds and a toilet with a screen around it. Mark watched the lab people work, asking Kenny sternly. "How long are they going to treat us like lab rats?" Kenny laid back across a cot, answering completely relaxed. "That depends on what they find from the tests. Obviously, most of our lab work came back negative for infection, or we wouldn't be in here together. So, I'd say... roughly fourteen days. They'll keep us quarantined to see if symptoms show. When they don't, they'll let us out and give you the tour." Mark smacked the glass, shouting out in a panic. "Fourteen days?!" Mark felt like the whole world was spinning off kilter. He didn't have nearly that long! What would the Horsemen do to Sean in that time? Kenny sat up slowly, calmly telling him. "Easy. The doctors here are very skittish. You start throwing a fit and they'll sedate you and keep you longer. Just relax. What's your rush?" Mark lost his temper, storming up to Kenny to yell at him heatedly. "Those assholes still have my friend! THAT'S my rush! I came here to get help! Not sit in fucking quarantine!"
Kenny swung his legs down off the cot, informing Mark seriously. "I understand you're upset. But yelling at me isn't going to make this go faster for either of us. So do yourself a favor and-" Kenny stopped talking as Mari stepped into the room with a bright smile. Mari adjusted her hospital shirt, asking happily. "Well, that was fun. How was it for you guys?" Kenny cleared his throat awkwardly but told her in a casual voice. "Oh, you know... They cracked open cold beers and we got a whole new lease on life." Mari dropped onto a free cot, crossing her legs as she chuckled out. "They probed you, didn't they? This is Area 51, you know. I wouldn't be surprised if they put a little something up there. I hear the aliens like guys more than-" Kenny swatted her with his pillow and she burst into giggles. Mark didn't join them in their laughter, he just leaned against the glass with a distant look. A tall slender woman with shoulder length wavy hair approached the glass. She tapped the glass with a long nail and the laughter in the room died down.
Mark didn't recognize her, nor did he care. He read her name tag though with disinterest. From her lab coat and fancy badge, he guessed this 'Lexi' was a high-level scientist. Behind him, Kenny rose off his cot to say aloud. "Mom." Lexi touched her fingers to her lips and then to the glass. Mark glanced back at Kenny, who turned to Mari. Mari crossed her arms over her chest and turned her back to the woman. Kenny let out a soft sigh, gently uttering under his breath. "Mari... How long are you going to hold that grudge against mom?" Mari didn't look back as she snapped out sourly. "For as long as I want. She destroyed our family." Kenny shifted on his feet uncomfortably. Mari glanced over her shoulder, tenderly telling Kenny. "You saw what she did to Dad. And judging by your job compared to our brothers, I'd guess she's doing the same to you. She's a control freak. She's toxic." Kenny bowed his head with a heavy sigh, moving to sit with her as he said openly. "We are all we have now. She's... complicated."
Mari put a hand on Kenny's shoulder, squeezing him as she sternly told him. "You are my family. Lewis, Spencer, and Wyatt are my family. I didn't come here to be with her. And when I get out, I'm going to punch her. Just like you taught me." Kenny flinched, discreetly mumbling out to her. "Mari..." Mari pointed a stern finger at him, growling out. "Don't 'Mari' me! She didn't care when Dad got sick. She didn't care that Grandpa had to take care of me. Face it. She kept you as her soldier boys... Using you just as she used Dad and Pops!" Mark listened carefully to everything. He was still trying to gather any information that he could use. He just wasn't clear on who's side he was on yet. Lexi tapped the glass lighter, drawing just his attention. She flashed him a strange smile, then moved away. He felt like an animal on display. Why did she look at him like that? Lexi stopped farther down to point to the little door that led to what looked like a booth attached to the glass room. Mark reluctantly moved, heading to the door. The door hissed open for him to reveal a much smaller glass room.
Only this one had a stool and a desk with a phone built into the wall. Mark took a seat, grumbling under his breath. "I take it back. This isn't a lab rat experiment... It's a prison." Taking a seat, he watched the door hiss shut. Lexi picked up the phone on her side, gesturing for him to pick up his. Mark carefully took the wired phone and placed it to his ear. Lexi's voice was warm and buttery as she greeted him. "Hello, Mr. Fischbach. How are you feeling today?" Mark stared blankly at her, bluntly answering in a drained tone. "I'm tired. What do you want?" Lexi grinned, telling him chipperly. "I have good news. While you were being processed in, we posted your name on the newcomer list around the compound. We got a hit. Thought you might need some uplifting support." Mark leaned on the desk, trying to rush out. "Speaking of support. I want to talk to you about-" Lexi cut him off to tell him in a firm voice. "There will be plenty of time for us to talk when you are out. For now, focus on recovery. We need strapping men like yourself."
Lexi set the phone down on the desk and Mark was going to say something... until he saw a door open at the back of the lab. From the door, a familiar woman stepped in. The second she saw him, she ran toward the glass. Over the phone, he could hear her shout out with excited relief. "MARK?! Oh my god! You're alive!" Lexi moved away to let Amy take a seat in the chair. The phone slipped from Mark's hand to clatter to the desk. He felt like he had just seen a ghost.
Back in the barn, Sean stood in the center of the arena as Famine told Death who was holding a clipboard. "Subject is a fast learner. That will help this study a lot." Death scribbled something, then gestured for a man to approach Sean. Sean clenched his hands on the wooden staff he was holding. To Famine, Death casually spoke like Sean couldn't hear him. "Don't hold your breath. Until we push him, we won't know what the serum has done to him." Sean ignored them, focusing only on the Death Stalker in front of him. He told himself that he was just learning to fight as part of his strategy to escape. The man picked up a wooden fighting stick like his, spinning it in his hand. Sean released a single hand from his staff, holding it at his side like the last guy had taught him. Famine and Death backed away to a safe distance, observing him like a hawk. The man swung his staff to bring it down at him and Sean sidestepped, striking the staff away and then striking the man across the ribs in his back swing.
The War Lord's in the stands laughed at the Death Stalker's sloppy technique. After hours of being trained by a War Lord, he was pretty confident that he could take this guy. The man straightened up, sneering out to him as he circled him. "Oh, you're going to pay for that, you scrawny fuck!" The man rushed him, and Sean held his ground, focusing only on watching the Death Stalker's swings. Their staffs hit each other harder and harder as Sean focused on blocking. He was too tired to attack back. His arm muscles were on fire. The Death Stalker's blows came fast, until he burned himself out and that's when Sean struck. Blocking a lazy strike, Sean swung his staff low at the man's knees. The man jumped to avoid the sweep and ducked the next swing toward his face. However, as Sean turned his back, Sean kicked out with his leg. The man had been braced to block with his staff and was kicked square in the chest. As the man fell back on his ass, Sean whirled around to slam his staff down over the man.
The man scooted back and parted his legs mere seconds before Sean's staff struck the ground. The man gawked at Sean, before Sean used his staff to flick sand up into the man's face. The man cringed and Sean struck him firmly across the cheek. The man spit blood across the sand as he went down. For a second, Sean hesitated. He didn't want to beat the man unconscious. His hesitation cost him. The man suddenly kicked Sean in the gut. Taking full advantage of his stunned state, the man swung his staff up to strike him across the face, sending him to the sand. Sean fell back hard, dropping his staff as he clutched his gushing nose. The man rushed to bring his staff down on him, but Conquest stepped in to snatch the staff and shoved the Death Stalker back. Spinning the staff between his fingers, Conquest told the other Horsemen. "The kid is tired. We should call it a day." Famine nodded, seriously informing Death. "Not bad for his first day." Death handed the clipboard to Famine, making his way over to Sean.
Sean blinked a few times, trying to get his vision back. Death extended a hand out to him and rather then fight it, he accepted his help to get up onto his feet. Death hefted him up, then pulled him into a hug. Sean cringed as people cheered in the stands. Against his ear, Death whispered to him loving. "I'm proud of you. Come. Let me reward you." Death rubbed Sean's sore back gently. It was weird that since he had agreed to practice with their followers, the Horsemen had suddenly become so... chummy with him. All except War. He was watching from a distance with a brooding demeanor. He wasn't happy about being tranquilized earlier. Calling Chica from the sidelines, he let Death escort him out into the cool evening. Death took him back to the barn stall and Sean hesitated to enter. Sean glanced over his shoulder, seeing the guards' station themselves around. They certainly didn't want him to be alone. Death patted the pillows, sweetly saying. "Sean, let's start over. Please?"
Sean gestured Chica in, then staggered inside holding his bleeding nose. Chica laid down on the rug, but Sean only stood by the mountain of pillows. He wasn't comfortable around these people. The fact they were being so nice only made it worse. He felt like a lamb they were spoiling before slaughter. Death curled fingers around Sean's knee, coaxing him to sit as he purred out. "I know you have no reason to trust me. But we weren't lying when we told you how important you are to us. So... Allow us to reward you for your good behavior. And maybe you will see that we can be friends." Death clapped his hands loudly and two oiled up muscular guys moved into the doorway. Sean's eyes widened, before he blushed out to Death. "No. That's ok. I'm good." Death patted his shoulder, informing him with a smirk. "They're here to massage you. Compliments of Famine for allowing him to test your motor skills. Enjoy." Death chuckled, slipping from the room as the burly guys entered.
Sean scooted back from them, mumbling under his breath shyly. "Guys, I'm good. You don't need to- AH!" One of the guys, grabbed his ankle and pulled him closer. Sean raised a hand to try and stop him, when the guy took his hand and began to rub it down. Within seconds, Sean was biting his lip. The guy was really good with his hands. The second guy pulled his other hand from his face to look over his bleeding nose. Sean winced when the guy tilted his head back, telling him in a thick exotic accent. "Relax. We'll make you feel good." To Be Continued...