[Makebelieve] The Slave 3

[makebelieve archive]

here's another ten minute session..read the warnings

The Slave 3
Author: PEJA
Email: makebelievearchive at gmail.com
Author's websites: http://peja1956.livejournal.com and
http://www.squidge.org/~peja/cgi-bin/search.php?action=recent
Fandom: XFiles
Pairing: Krycek/
Portrayed by: (optional)Nicholas Lea
Rating: FRAO
Brief Summary: A Krycek moment
Warnings: BDSM, torture. Really dark nastiness happening
Notes/acknowledgments:
General thanks to all of you folks who are requesting short fics and improvs
in the various fandoms. You're keeping the words flowing.
Disclaimers: not mine
Archive: Yes, but ask first, include the complete story and provide a URL to
the archive
Forwarding to other lists: Okay, but keep my name and headers attached. A
heads up would be nice as well.
Previous chapters can be read at http://peja1956.livejournal.com/118762.html.
Just follow the links at the end of the chapters



"Bring out the chattel," the head handler shouted over shouts "FBI" and
"Stay where you are" through the gunfire. "Put 'em in the holding pool."

Alex Krycek didn't resist as he was herded out of the pens and forced to
enter a large basin shaped pool and to his knees among the hundred or so
other slaves. He didn't even flinch as the gun shots sounded over his head.
Didn't blink as men, woman and children slumped in their own blood all
around him.

And then, suddenly as the rain of death had began, it was over, punctuated
only by the plummeting of the dreaded handlers. Coups had happened before,
two or three times during the time his life had become this waking
nightmare. Once he'd even been lucky enough to take a bullet, but his
shooter had been careless. And he had survived.

So as the coup concluded, Krycek paid the dead and dying no attention. Even
less to the living. Instead patiently waiting for the approach of whoever
would step into the shoes of his new handler. Why not... after all it made
no difference to him one way or the other. the only changes that came from
these coups was the possibility that he'd hit the lottery and take a fatal
bullet or he'd look into the face of his current handler. Either way,
nothing changed.

He clung to the macabre security of that sameness. it was his only sanity.
He didn't know if he could survive if that security was wrenched away from
him.

he smiled deep inside his head as a pair of highly shined shoes appeared
before him. The sameness enveloped him even as a hand brushed over his
shoulder and a comforting voice assured him that he was safe now.

Inside his head another smile whispered. He was safe in the destructive
hands of his handler. Knowing better than to meet his handler's eyes. he
bowed low, his forehead resting against the cooling body of one of the lucky
ones.


end part 3

-- 
PEJA
The wwomb archive http://www.squidge.org/~peja/cgi-bin/index.php accepts all
fandoms, all genres. Come create your personal page with us
Need a plot bunny? http://community.livejournal.com/adoptaplotbunny/
ready to commit ten minutes a day to writing?
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/TenMinutesWithTheMuse
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