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The Discordant Opposition Journal Issue 00 File 03
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::Nov/98
::: The Discordant Opposition Journal ::: Issue 0 - File 3 :::
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:The Waiting Becomes Torture:
Small squares of skin were being cut from Levistus's arm with
delicate precision. Lev wasn't quite sure whether this was part
of the interrogation or just something to get his assigned
torturess in the right frame of mind. Either way she seemed
happy, she noticed his regained consciousness and a grin flashed
across her face. All Lev could think of doing in response was
arch an eyebrow, the heavy straps made it impossible to move
anything else really. She shrugged and went back to concentrating
on his arm.
Pain was something he hadn't felt in quite a while. He'd had
most of the pain receptors in his brain fried long ago for the
sake of convenience. He'd gotten a cheap job done, his nerves too
had been cauterised. It did have its drawbacks though. He'd once
almost bled to death before realising that somebody had shot him
in the leg. The drawbacks are probably outweighed by the ability
to endure almost anything though. At least in Lev's opinion they
are. He did feel a vague tingling in his arm as the scalpel danced
over his exposed skin. He almost found himself savouring the meagre
sensation.
He quessed that this would leave his arm looking like a miniature
chessboard or something. What the fuck, another conversation piece.
Torture was becoming a ridiculous business he reflected. What could
you do to people who could barely feel? Mind altering drugs were
out too, those receptors removed long ago. Only the most potent
hallucinogens had any effect on him, LSD gave him a mild headache.
He could feel the cold table under his naked body and the arm
puddle of blood forming around his left arm. He ignored he discom-
fort he was feeling and thought back to the Norland Allied Bank job.
Where things had started...
***
Levistus' contemporaries lacked initiative when it came to technology.
A few pretty basic precautions can do wonders for the operational
integrity of a bank robbery. Anything above and beyond the basic and
success is almost guaranteed. Levistus handled the tech aspect, the
two other members of his crew were Whitie and Mesh. Whitie was a
weapon nut, a kind of 21st century samurai. His nickname came from
his peroxide white hair and pale complection. Mech drove the gateway
cars, she was a speed freak in every sense of the two words.
The bank had only had two security gaurds. Arrogant bastards, they
obviously weren't expecting to get hit, their mistake. Levistus and
and White had walked into the back exuding confidence. The interior
was a stark nightmare of chrome and pale marble all lit by harsh
florescent lighting. Apparently this was stylish. It wasn't a busy
time for the bank, there were only a few individuals queuing and
milling around. Two visible security guards.
Well before entering the bank Levistus had taken the precaution
of knocking out the phone lines in the bank's immediate vicinity.
Lev and Whitie sat down on a leather couch supplied for weary bank
patrons. Lev got out his scanned and his earphones and began to
listen. It seemed that there was very little police activity in
the area. The hissing silence was only occasionally broken by
murmured resports of traffic violations and the saga of a messy
case of domestic violence. Typical shit really. Dull and mundane.
The second instalment of this story will be in the next issue...
Rue-the-Day [root@Rue-the-Day.net]
