Bloody Domination 2: Straitjacket

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Bloody Domination 2: Straitjacket

Co-Written by Harley Quinn hyenaholic and Froggy22651

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Harley: Ah, the sequel! Don’t you just love sequels? Well, as you can see from the summary, Shadow’s alive. You have one chapter to bitch about that in your review, and then I’m not listening any more.

Froggy: Now, let’s put it simply. Shadow is going to be rather out of character in this fanfic. Then again he’s still pretty much insane, so hey, that explains it, right?

Harley: This is a Work-In-Progress. I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen, but I can tell you this right now – it ain’t gonna be pretty. Pay some goddamn attention to the warnings for once. More warnings may be added or taken away, but that's what it's probably going to contain.

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Chapter One: Talking To My Shadow

"I almost died,” Shadow the Hedgehog informed his shadow, "I suppose I did die in the medical sense. My heart stopped beating, I no longer breathed, and my brain ceased to function, but apparently that was just my body slowing so it would have a chance to heal. The Ultimate Lifeform cannot be killed by mere bullets. Imagine their surprise when they heard banging sounds coming from the morgue a few days later."

The dark hedgehog gave a bitter smirk at his shadow on the padded wall. He was sitting all alone in an empty, off-white, softly-lit, padded cell, his arms tied behind his back in a long-sleeved white canvas jacket, his ankles loosely cuffed to keep him from making a run for it on the rare occasions when he was let out of the cell. His gloves and shoes had been taken from him. Supposedly, it was all for his own good.

"They nigh on threw a screaming fit," his shadow agreed, "We saw their faces when we busted out, blood plastered all over our body," it sniggered, and they looked down at his body. Though concealed by the straitjacket, his body was now covered in ugly, badly healed scars; old burns, stab wounds and the bullet wound that had ripped through his chest and out his back, "And then they called on the military bastards like the ass-fucked cowards they are..."

Shadow snorted in disgust, agreeing with the voice, as dangerous as that was, "We were too weak to resist,” he spat, "They drugged me up, put me in here..." The dark hedgehog sighed. "Perhaps it's better this way. I can't hurt anyone here. You can't, either."

"Huh... what do they know about pain?" his shadow asked him, "What do they know about loss, or suffering? And I haven't seen anyone coming to check on you since they found out you were alive. They don't even care. At all. That's worse than being glad about it."

"We taught them about loss!" Shadow growled at the demon in his head, "We taught them all about pain! Most of all, we taught them about fear!" He shook his head, whispering, "They hate me. That's why they don't visit."

The shadow sneered angrily, "We should break out of here. I know we could. We'd finish what we started. That'd make them understand the preciousness of life!"

"You mean end their lives,” Shadow spat, struggling against his jacket briefly, "No. Forget it. It's not happening. He didn't let me drop. He didn’t let me drop. He didn't let me drop..." He repeated it like a mantra, afraid he'd forget if he stopped.

"Sure he didn’t. And then Rad Red didn’t plug you with lead and you didn’t wind up in a morgue," his shadow laughed, "Yeah, you want Faker to care. You want him to care so bad you lie to yourself to try and fool yourself into believing he cares."

"Shut up!" the hedgehog snarled impotently at his shadow, "He believed in me! He tried to help! You sure didn't. You tricked me!"

"Yeah, I tricked you, and you believed me. It doesn't really matter. The fact is we're trapped in here," his shadow pointed out, "In a gods-damned straitjacket! Look at us!" Shadow looked down at the Posey Straitjacket, which had four back straps, an arm loop, a crotch strap, arm straps and self-tightening clasps, "Some Ultimate Lifeform," his shadow said mockingly.

"Those pathetic fools. They should have destroyed me,” Shadow spoke, "I'm too much of a threat. I'm a weapon with a broken guidance system, and they just stick me in here, waiting for me to go on another rampage!"

"Why wait then?" his shadow asked, "Why not leave and teach those bastards a lesson they won't forget in a hurry?" there was a pause, "Come on, you've been in this place for a month. That pink bitch is carrying your baby. OUR baby. I want to see it."

"Yes... yes! We can get out of here, pay them back for what they... NO!" Shadow beat his head against the padded floor, "I won't be deceived again! I won't listen to you! It's not your baby to see, you bastard!"

"We made it! Without me you would never have even tried!" his shadow howled, "It's my baby! She'll just kill it! You know she will! She wants the faker's baby, so she'll kill ours! We have to get out of here to stop her! We're saving a life, you moron!"

"Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!" the dark hedgehog shouted at his shadow, his eyes wide, "You only end lives! You ruin them! Just... leave me alone! Leave me alone..."

"Okay," his shadow sniggered, and became silent. But now it was far worse. Shadow could feel his dark hatred waiting and watching, endlessly, silently, mocking him. It wasn't gone. Your shadow was the one thing you could never get away from, no matter how far you ran, and here he couldn't run at all.

Shadow sat there, breathing heavily, looking around his empty cell. It was silent, it was lonely, and it was terrible. Why couldn't they have just killed him? Why couldn't Knuckles have done the job properly? Finally, in desperation, Shadow gave in, "SAY SOMETHING!" he screamed.

His shadow sniggered, "I thought you didn't want me around..."

"I do!" he shouted, "I do! You... I can't get rid of you..." Shadow lay down on the floor, whimpering like a child, "You're always here. I can't get rid of you..."

"Well, you could always kill yourself," his shadow sniggered, "Or better still, you could make other people kill you."

"That might be a problem here,” Shadow told him, tugging at his jacket for emphasis, "And I know you don't want to die."

"Huh, what do you know about me?" his shadow asked him, "I'm the side of you who'll tell you to drag a razor vertically down your wrists. I'm the part of you that you hate, the part that hates you right back. I'm the part of you that looks in a mirror and knows how hideous you are."

"So we hate each other,” Shadow growled, "I wonder... would we die to destroy each other? Do we hate each other that much?"

"Interesting question," replied his shadow, "Do you see any of those losers you'd like to call 'friends' in here trying to help you to get rid of me? No. You haven't got anybody but me. And whether we hate each other or not, I'll always be here. I won't abandon you."

"Yes... yes... you never left me,” Shadow admitted, "And I've never left you. All we have is each other, and each other is who we must rely on."

"Now that's more like it," said his shadow, "Now are we going to get out of here, or are you going to sit around whining? I want to see my baby, and I know you do too. You want that pink bitch to have an abortion? Or give it away? We deserve a say in what happens too. It's our baby too. Without me, you wouldn't even have put it there."

"You're right,” Shadow whispered, "She has no right to kill it. It's ours too. We can save it; we just have to work together." Shadow looked up at his shadow, "Alright. Truce. But getting out won't be easy. I can't use my powers. They keep me too drugged."

His shadow nodded, "I can help you, but it's gonna hurt. But that's nothing new."

"Pain has always been our companion. It'll be like old times,” Shadow agreed, "But let me make one thing clear: no more murder. No more rape. If you try that again, I swear I'll kill us both."

"Wimp..." his shadow muttered.

"Don't tempt me, demon,” Shadow growled menacingly, "Ours is an alliance of necessity. We are not friends."

"Doesn't matter," his shadow replied, "Now that we're on speaking terms, I can help you. You'd be amazed at what I know. Your ears are always working, you just don't listen. But I do. And I know lots of stuff you don't. Somebody has been trying to visit. Only GUN won't let them see us."

It made sense that GUN wouldn't let someone visit. After all, they still viewed him as their possession. But that still left an important question. "Who has been trying to visit?" he asked.

"I don't know, they didn't say who exactly," his shadow admitted, "But it was a human, and they said 'he'. Not Faker calling on a sympathy visit, in other words. They've been trying to visit regularly, every week."

"A human?" Shadow spat, "What human would have an interest in seeing me?"

"We only know one," his shadow admitted, "But there are lots of those scumbags who'd like to use us. I say we use them - to break out."

"Yes, we can use their interest to our advantage,” Shadow replied with a smirk, "Human minds are easy to manipulate. It's only a matter of time now. We will escape from this place. Mere walls cannot contain me!"

"They've been trying to visit on a weekly basis," the shadow said, "I say that we get ready for them tonight. Like I said, it'll hurt a bit but we can get out of this straitjacket."

"We can wait for that. This jacket is simple to get out of. Escaping the prison is the difficult part,” Shadow spoke with a nod.

His shadow was frowning, "It's nearly meal time. They'll be coming with our paste soon. Pushing that feeding tube down our throat, along with the dope. They fucking know it hurts and they still do it! I say this time we wrap the damn thing around their neck this time."

"That would be fun,” Shadow said with a wicked grin, fantasising strangling the life out of those witless tormenters... The expression melted away as he shook his head. He was supposed to stop hurting others, not continue it, "No. No killing. I told you that,” he uttered with a grimace.

"Great. So you're just gonna lie back and let them push it down your throat, along with all the tranquilizers and shit that means we can't hardly think straight enough to tie our god-damned shoelaces." the shadow sneered, "Some Ultimate Lifeform you are."

"I am the Ultimate Lifeform, and with time, I can learn to resist the poisons they're putting in my body," the hedgehog spat at the mocking voice, "It'll put their guard down. They'll never suspect me being capable of escaping."

"In time," the shadow just sniggered, "In time they'll up the shit as you get used to it. Godammit, here they come..." Indeed, the cell door was unlocking, and three heavily armed guards were coming in, carrying the equipment they used to feed Shadow without risking taking off the straitjacket.

Sighing, Shadow had to force back the rage, the humiliation of being treated like some rabid animal, as he forced himself to his feet. Of course, he couldn't really blame them. After all he had done, he would be damn cautious too. More so, in fact. He would put a gun to his head and fire twice, just to be sure.

“Time to take your meds, Project Shadow,” said one of the guards, his voice calm and professional.

“You take it,” Shadow said coldly, trying to retain an air of dignity while wrapped securely in a straitjacket.

The guard shook his head, “You know you’ve got to be a good boy for the doctors, Project.”

“I don’t want to take your shit,” Shadow repeated, “I don’t want any trouble…”

“Oh, it’s no trouble,” said the guard, smiling casually. Then he brought his heavy nightstick around into Shadow’s midriff.

The hedgehog gasped, all the wind knocked out of him, and fell to the floor. Another blow landed across his shoulders, keeping him down. The guard took a stun wand from another guard and dug it right into Shadow’s back, listening to the hedgehog howl in pain.

"Nice try, but these bastards have all the compassion of a rattlesnake," his shadow said as he twisted and thrashed on the floor.

That was just before the other two guards pushed him onto his back and held him down. Instinctively he began to kick and thrash wildly, but the first guard was already pushing the feeding tube down his throat. Shadow almost choked on it as it was forced right down into him, and then a tube of feeding paste mixed with his medication was squeezed into it. It tasted like somebody had already eaten it.

It was just a job to them. That was understandable; doing the same crap day after day had to wear them out eventually. But would it really kill them to be a little gentler? Possibly. He still hated it. Choking on the tube as they pulled it away, he tried not to think about what they had put inside him.

Whatever it was, it made him feel as if he could barely stand, let alone walk. Breathing lethargically, Shadow felt his head fall back against the padded floor, and his arms and legs went limp. His struggles ceased. He closed his eyes and tried to think of something else, but his mind was fuzzy and sluggish, "You… bastards..." he slurred, his throat raw and aching.

Nothing seemed particularly real. Maybe that was the point. If he couldn't even stand up without knocking his head on the moon, he sure as hell couldn't escape.

"But I know the moon isn't there, and I know I'm drugged,” Shadow rasped, "I can beat this. I'm the most perfect organism ever created. Falling to Earth didn’t kill me. Getting shot didn’t kill me. I can beat these drugs..."

He watched as his shadow detached from the wall, "Look, the door's open, and they took off our straitjacket," it pointed out with a nasty smirk.

Shadow shook his head. "No. That wouldn't make sense. It's got to be an illusion,” he said, looking down at his supposedly free body, no longer restrained by the jacket. It felt good to be able to move his arms again though...

"Great, a hallucination. Oh, the fun we have," said his shadow, "Good thing we're really locked in a padded cell or you might hurt us."

"Too bad it doesn’t make you more pleasant to be trapped with,” Shadow growled, rubbing his ears. Even if it wasn't real, it felt good.

In reality, Shadow was lying quietly on the floor of his cell, too doped up to even struggle as the guards quickly and efficiently stripped him of the straitjacket and washed his body down. Occasionally he would twitch slightly. Once they had completed the task, they put him back into the straitjacket. He was clean, and his circulation was working, but he still wasn't coherent, and he wouldn't be for several hours now.

Eventually, the pleasant hallucination faded, leaving him in a hellish fog, unable to move, unable to speak. Help me... he thought. It was the only desire he was aware of; he didn't even know who he was begging for help.

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Harley: Well? Read and Review. Your opinion means a lot to us. Oh, and once again, thanks to Terminus Est for helping me with the first one.