Chapter 1
Chapter 1.
Wade laid down in the tube, strapped down so tight the only thing he could really move was his head. He waited until he was sure Francis and Angel were far away, the slight sting on his face of headbutting Angel was already fading. Apparently, his healing factor worked fast.
He gasped for air helplessly as the oxygen in the tube was lowered again. No matter how many times it happened, he never managed to save his breath. This time he had to keep a complete focus, though.
Wade counted in his head, he had about sixty seconds before the oxygen turned on again, so he had to be quick about this. He spat out the match he’d stolen from Angel and bit it tightly between his lips. It was a bit of a struggle to stretch his head far enough to spit the match onto his hand. For a heart-stopping second, he thought he’d miscalculated but no, he could reach it. His fingers closed against the match.
It'd been 58 seconds, the oxygen would turn on any second now. He scratched the match against his bindings until it finally, finally caught fire.
Wade tossed the match to the air vent and waited. The oxygen should open right the fuck now. He watched the flame flicker and go lower and he held his breath, with the hope it would fool the monitors to start the oxygen already. Wade watched, heart beating wildly, as the flame flickered out and died, right in front of his eyes. Along with his last hopes of escape.
The oxygen tanks flooded the tube and Wade could finally breathe again. He used all that air to scream, for all the good it did him.
Wade’s world shrank to that tank, he didn’t know how long he spent breathing shakily and being suffocated to the brink of unconsciousness in turn. All he knew was that his head hurt, his lungs ached, his whole body shook with adrenaline and effort, and that there was nothing he could do about any of it.
It said something that seeing Francis’ face smirking down at him through the see-through tube felt like a relief.
The asshole took his time to get Wade out of the tube, he sat back and watched Wade choking without air for one more cycle. That psychotic dickbag probably got off on it, if he even could get off on anything. Wade could see the gun Francis carried at his hip, he fantasized about blowing Francis' brains out with it.
“You look like you’ve had a rough weekend, Mr. Wilson. I’m afraid it’s not likely to get any better.”
“Fuck you,” Wade murmured back quietly, too tired and hoarse to speak louder. Yeah, too tired, that’s what he told himself.
Francis chuckled. “Let’s get you out of there then. It’s time to fit you with your new control collar.”
Angel pulled Wade out of the tank and strapped him to a chair in the room. Wade struggled, he knew there wasn’t any point, with how strong Angel was and how much weaker Wade was than he’d used to be before all the torture. But he still had to try, Vanessa would’ve expected nothing less.
The last shackle on the chair fell into place, around Wade’s head so he couldn’t even try to dodge Francis as he approached with a big metal collar.
“The whole BDSM thing really isn’t my thing,” Wade growled, all faked bravado. “I make for a terrible sub, ask anyone.”
Francis ignored him completely and slid the collar carefully around Wade’s neck. Wade heard it click shut with an ominous metal sound. The fucking thing was heavy, too tight against his neck, what the hell was it made of?
“Shut your mouth, Mr. Wilson,” Francis ordered.
“Go fuck yourself, Francis,” Wade said and managed to flip Francis the double bird despite his wrists being bound to the chair.
Wade had enough time to register the collar making a small humming noise before the pain hit him, full blast. It was electricity running through his body, mixed with something else, a burning pain inside his veins, centered around his neck where there’d been a tiny needle prick of pain as the electricity started.
Wade thrashed around in the chair, teeth gritted together to keep the muffled screams from escaping.
“The collar works by hurting the subject until they comply with their orders. Normally my patients are so… traumatized that they’d do anything to make the pain stop,” Francis explained coolly, a mildly interested look on his face as he watched Wade try to bite down on his screams. “You know, Wade, you could easily make it stop too, all you’d have to do is follow orders.”
Wade almost wanted to laugh, if he could’ve. The pain was awful, like getting burned and beaten at the same time but Wade was used to pain, he could take it, he could breathe through it. This was nowhere enough to get him to obey Francis of all assholes.
“Suck my dick, Francie,” Wade managed to get out. His hands were trembling too badly to flip Francis off but it looked like the maniac got the message anyways.
Francis smiled mildly, not having the good sense to look even slightly annoyed.
“Why am I not surprised you won’t do the sensible thing? Looks like our quality time together isn’t done quite yet, Mr. Wilson.” Francis turned away from him. “Take him away, Angel.”
Angel manhandled Wade off the chair and strapped him back to his usual gurney, never mind the spasms and gasps going through Wade. She rolled him out of the room and back to the usual space where he spent his time between rounds of torture.
The pain didn’t die down for hours.