Hal Mason (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
refusestofall) wrote2013-11-19 08:01 pm
refusestofall) wrote2013-11-19 08:01 pm
Entry tags:
Radioactive - a Falling Skies fanfic
[Previous Chapters: Chapter 1]
Chapter 2 - Never Talk Back to Your Master
Hal woke up to a bucket of water in his face. He gasped, and learned quickly that he wasn’t able to move. He looked around in the dim light and tried to piece together where he was. He was on some kind of wooden rack that hanged from the ceiling with thick chains. His arms stretched out to the sides and strapped down tightly, and it was hung so that his feet were barely touching the floor.
He was in a stone room and sunlight was filtering in through barred windows, and his mind played through his father’s history books to try and link a time or a name to the kind of room he was in.
It was a dungeon though. That much he was certain of.
The two men who had snuck up on him were in the room. The bald one held the bucket while the other had a whip he was running his hands along. They were joined now by a taller man, his long hair braided down his back and he wore a leather vest with his jeans and biker boots.
“So your name’s Hal Mason,” he stated as he flipped through a wallet. “I haven’t seen anyone carry one of these in awhile. Hate to tell you, but your driver’s permit expired a few months ago.”
“Who are you?” Hal asked, feeling the soreness in his jaw still from where he had been hit with the rifle butt.
“That doesn’t matter.” He tossed the wallet aside and walked up to Hal. “To you, I’m Master. These men are Sir. You got that?”
Hal looked at the two and snorted. “You’re kidding, right?”
‘Master’ struck Hal across his face hard, making Hal’s head whip into his shoulder. The wooden rack moved with him, the chains clanking as it rocked him back forward. “Do I look like I’m joking? Mason was the name of the guy in charge of the camp in Charleston. That where you’re from?”
Hal didn’t answer, just tilted his head and worked his jaw. Master laughed a bit, then grabbed Hal’s face and pulled him close. “You’re going to answer my questions, Mason, and it’s all going to come down on how much pain you want before you let them go. So, let’s try this again: You from Charleston?”
“Boston.” Hal glared right back into the man’s eyes. “You read my license, so you already know that.”
The grip on Hal’s jaw tightened. “Last time -”
“I’m not going to tell you anything,” Hal growled back. “Do what you want.”
Master let Hal go and took a few steps back before looking at Marick. “Five should be a nice incentive to cooperate.”
Marick nodded and went to stand behind Hal. The teenager tried to follow him with his eyes, but the chains would only let him twist so far. There was a moment of silence before there was a crack of the whip. Hal felt the sting along his back followed by the pain, and he couldn’t stop the scream that came out of his mouth. He tried to steel himself for the next one, and managed not to scream for it, or the third, as he bit into his lip.
The fourth hit him along his ribs, and the last his hit shoulders as his knees gave out and his feet slipped out from under him. With no legs to support him, he hung where the leather straps kept him from falling to the ground, and the wooden rack swung with his full weight.
Master walked back over and looked down at Hal who stared at the ground, sweating and out of breath. “Now, tell me about Charleston, Hal Mason. I’m sure the eldest son of the president has a lot of secrets running around in his skull. Information about those aliens living at your camp, the weapon cache, who came in to blow the place sky high…”
Hal managed to lift his head and stare at him. “Sounds like you already know everything, why do you need me to repeat it.”
“Because the people before you on this rack weren’t part of the inside circle like you were.” He knelt down to look Hal in the eyes. “These were people who made their way out of town when you brought in those tall aliens with a secret weapon. Was that the thing that put the purple cage in the sky?”
“No, they’re the ones who brought it down so that we wouldn’t die from it.” Hal spat on the ground a moment. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Where’s the rest of your group now that Charleston went down?”
Hal tried to shrug, but the way he was hanging made it impossible. “Your guess is as good as mine. I was trying to track them when dumb and dumber over there grabbed me.”
Master looked over his shoulder at Jorde and Marick, then went to pat Hal’s shoulder. “Daddy’s little soldier, far from the troops. What do you think, boys? Think there’s a spot we can send Mason off to earn his keep here?”
“Section seven is down three since the last cave-in,” Jorde stated. “Plus we’re in need of fresh meat in the ring.”
He looked back at Hal, then nodded. “I think he’ll fit both of those roles perfectly. Get him prepped and send him down.”
“So what, you’re just going to lock me up somewhere?” Hal struggled to his feet. “They’re going to come find me, and you’re going to regret this.”
“Oh, I’m counting on them coming for you,” Master said as he grabbed a box from a shelf and put it on a table near Jorde. “Slave labor is high in demand, and I need all the stock I can get. Your camp comes to find you, and I won't need to worry for sales for months.”
“So what, this is a slaver camp?”
Master chuckled as he handed a tattoo gun to Jorde and an electric razor to Marick. “Something like that. Let’s just say we make sure young men have plenty to do so they don’t get into trouble in the new world.”
He motioned for the two men to go to Hal. He tried to struggle, but Marick kicked Hal’s legs out from under him again. Jorde ripped at Hal’s shirt until it was in shreds on the floor, then grabbed his left arm and steadied it against the wooden beam as the tattoo gun started. The needle dug deep into his skin. Meanwhile, Marick put Hal into a headlock and the razor buzzed in his ear as the man shaved off head.
“Save your strength for the ring,” Master’s voice called from across the room as he watched the scene. He pulled a leather collar, two wrist cuffs, and a length of chain from the box. When Marick was done, he tossed them one by one across the room. Each piece of leather was tightened as much as it would go and then secured into place with a tiny lock. The chain went from one wrist, through a loop in the collar, and ended at the other wrist that Marick secured as Jorde finished with the arm tattoo. The arm straps were released from the rack and Hal fell to his hands and knees, trying not to shake from the abuse his body had taken in such a short frame of time.
“Let’s go, Mason. I’m sure you’ll be back in this room often, but I’ve got clients to see. And you’re just in time to make dinner.”
Hal made no effort to move, so Jorde grabbed the chain near his neck and physically lifted Hal to his feet. The two made to usher Hal out, but the teen stopped right near Master and tried to grab him. “If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to kill you,” he swore.
“You can try, kid, and I may even give you the opportunity, but that ain’t gonna happen.” He pushed Hal into the hall where Marick was waiting. “Now remember to play nice with your new cellmates.”
The wooden door to the room slammed shut behind them, and Hal found himself being dragged through a series of dark hallways. They twisted and turned so often that it was almost impossible for him to keep track of where they were going. They finally reached a large steel door and Marick pulled a lever to unlock it while Jorde opened it up and pushed Hal inside.
“Sleep well, princess.”
And then the door slid back into place, and Hal found himself in complete darkness.
Chapter 2 - Never Talk Back to Your Master
Hal woke up to a bucket of water in his face. He gasped, and learned quickly that he wasn’t able to move. He looked around in the dim light and tried to piece together where he was. He was on some kind of wooden rack that hanged from the ceiling with thick chains. His arms stretched out to the sides and strapped down tightly, and it was hung so that his feet were barely touching the floor.
He was in a stone room and sunlight was filtering in through barred windows, and his mind played through his father’s history books to try and link a time or a name to the kind of room he was in.
It was a dungeon though. That much he was certain of.
The two men who had snuck up on him were in the room. The bald one held the bucket while the other had a whip he was running his hands along. They were joined now by a taller man, his long hair braided down his back and he wore a leather vest with his jeans and biker boots.
“So your name’s Hal Mason,” he stated as he flipped through a wallet. “I haven’t seen anyone carry one of these in awhile. Hate to tell you, but your driver’s permit expired a few months ago.”
“Who are you?” Hal asked, feeling the soreness in his jaw still from where he had been hit with the rifle butt.
“That doesn’t matter.” He tossed the wallet aside and walked up to Hal. “To you, I’m Master. These men are Sir. You got that?”
Hal looked at the two and snorted. “You’re kidding, right?”
‘Master’ struck Hal across his face hard, making Hal’s head whip into his shoulder. The wooden rack moved with him, the chains clanking as it rocked him back forward. “Do I look like I’m joking? Mason was the name of the guy in charge of the camp in Charleston. That where you’re from?”
Hal didn’t answer, just tilted his head and worked his jaw. Master laughed a bit, then grabbed Hal’s face and pulled him close. “You’re going to answer my questions, Mason, and it’s all going to come down on how much pain you want before you let them go. So, let’s try this again: You from Charleston?”
“Boston.” Hal glared right back into the man’s eyes. “You read my license, so you already know that.”
The grip on Hal’s jaw tightened. “Last time -”
“I’m not going to tell you anything,” Hal growled back. “Do what you want.”
Master let Hal go and took a few steps back before looking at Marick. “Five should be a nice incentive to cooperate.”
Marick nodded and went to stand behind Hal. The teenager tried to follow him with his eyes, but the chains would only let him twist so far. There was a moment of silence before there was a crack of the whip. Hal felt the sting along his back followed by the pain, and he couldn’t stop the scream that came out of his mouth. He tried to steel himself for the next one, and managed not to scream for it, or the third, as he bit into his lip.
The fourth hit him along his ribs, and the last his hit shoulders as his knees gave out and his feet slipped out from under him. With no legs to support him, he hung where the leather straps kept him from falling to the ground, and the wooden rack swung with his full weight.
Master walked back over and looked down at Hal who stared at the ground, sweating and out of breath. “Now, tell me about Charleston, Hal Mason. I’m sure the eldest son of the president has a lot of secrets running around in his skull. Information about those aliens living at your camp, the weapon cache, who came in to blow the place sky high…”
Hal managed to lift his head and stare at him. “Sounds like you already know everything, why do you need me to repeat it.”
“Because the people before you on this rack weren’t part of the inside circle like you were.” He knelt down to look Hal in the eyes. “These were people who made their way out of town when you brought in those tall aliens with a secret weapon. Was that the thing that put the purple cage in the sky?”
“No, they’re the ones who brought it down so that we wouldn’t die from it.” Hal spat on the ground a moment. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Where’s the rest of your group now that Charleston went down?”
Hal tried to shrug, but the way he was hanging made it impossible. “Your guess is as good as mine. I was trying to track them when dumb and dumber over there grabbed me.”
Master looked over his shoulder at Jorde and Marick, then went to pat Hal’s shoulder. “Daddy’s little soldier, far from the troops. What do you think, boys? Think there’s a spot we can send Mason off to earn his keep here?”
“Section seven is down three since the last cave-in,” Jorde stated. “Plus we’re in need of fresh meat in the ring.”
He looked back at Hal, then nodded. “I think he’ll fit both of those roles perfectly. Get him prepped and send him down.”
“So what, you’re just going to lock me up somewhere?” Hal struggled to his feet. “They’re going to come find me, and you’re going to regret this.”
“Oh, I’m counting on them coming for you,” Master said as he grabbed a box from a shelf and put it on a table near Jorde. “Slave labor is high in demand, and I need all the stock I can get. Your camp comes to find you, and I won't need to worry for sales for months.”
“So what, this is a slaver camp?”
Master chuckled as he handed a tattoo gun to Jorde and an electric razor to Marick. “Something like that. Let’s just say we make sure young men have plenty to do so they don’t get into trouble in the new world.”
He motioned for the two men to go to Hal. He tried to struggle, but Marick kicked Hal’s legs out from under him again. Jorde ripped at Hal’s shirt until it was in shreds on the floor, then grabbed his left arm and steadied it against the wooden beam as the tattoo gun started. The needle dug deep into his skin. Meanwhile, Marick put Hal into a headlock and the razor buzzed in his ear as the man shaved off head.
“Save your strength for the ring,” Master’s voice called from across the room as he watched the scene. He pulled a leather collar, two wrist cuffs, and a length of chain from the box. When Marick was done, he tossed them one by one across the room. Each piece of leather was tightened as much as it would go and then secured into place with a tiny lock. The chain went from one wrist, through a loop in the collar, and ended at the other wrist that Marick secured as Jorde finished with the arm tattoo. The arm straps were released from the rack and Hal fell to his hands and knees, trying not to shake from the abuse his body had taken in such a short frame of time.
“Let’s go, Mason. I’m sure you’ll be back in this room often, but I’ve got clients to see. And you’re just in time to make dinner.”
Hal made no effort to move, so Jorde grabbed the chain near his neck and physically lifted Hal to his feet. The two made to usher Hal out, but the teen stopped right near Master and tried to grab him. “If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to kill you,” he swore.
“You can try, kid, and I may even give you the opportunity, but that ain’t gonna happen.” He pushed Hal into the hall where Marick was waiting. “Now remember to play nice with your new cellmates.”
The wooden door to the room slammed shut behind them, and Hal found himself being dragged through a series of dark hallways. They twisted and turned so often that it was almost impossible for him to keep track of where they were going. They finally reached a large steel door and Marick pulled a lever to unlock it while Jorde opened it up and pushed Hal inside.
“Sleep well, princess.”
And then the door slid back into place, and Hal found himself in complete darkness.
Do you still write fanfiction?
I recently started watching Falling Skies and I have absolutely fallen in love with the show, and of course with Hal Mason :)
Today I stumbled upon your fanfiction "Radioactive", and again I fell in love, and was captivated by the story. That is, until chapter 2 ended with a cliffhanger and there were no more chapters to tell me what happened to Hal after he was captured and locked up.
On your profile I saw that you wrote this fanfic nearly three years ago, and I also saw that your last entry is almost a year old.
But, if you ever see this post, I know that I, and certainty a others as well, would deeply appreciate it if you continue the "Radioactive" storyline!
I wish you all the best, and hope you find the inspiration to start writing again,
Hanna
Re: Do you still write fanfiction?
You know, I keep wanting to come back and finish this story, and I keep getting distracted by other things (/cough teen wolf) to cycle back. But if you are really interested, I will work on it. I know where this story was going and have my notes still!
Just give me a bit of time because I'm working on a few original novels to submit to a publishing house. I see you subscribed to the journal, so you will know when they go up.
And thank you again for your kind words. While it's not the same, I journal!RP Hal with my friends in a few places, and if you like reading log style RPG I can point you to the communities and tags you can click on to read about his exploits in them.
<3 Alison
Re: Do you still write fanfiction?
Thank you so much for your reply.
If it is not to much of a hassle I would love if you continued your fic! And of course take your time, and good luck with you novels! After reading your fiction, I'm sure they will be a success!!!
Hanna :)
PS: I would love to read you RPs as well :)