Fear And Bravery (parts 1 And 2)

[Kanji]

Chapter I

Violent sounds filled the once peaceful domain and both brother and sister were awoken from their wistful dreams to slide out of their beds and infest the hallways, lurking in the shadows. They watched as the two adults screamed at each other, threats escaping their tongues at speeds almost incomprehensible to their ears. Foreign words seethed in the cool air, that caused them to cling close together, finding comfort in the warmth of their small undeveloped bodies. It was not enough however to stop the two from crying, though they were both silent for fear of their own petty lives.

James Tell and his sister Jessica had been watching their parents fight in the living room again and he winced as he watched his dad throw a punch into his mothers gut winding her. However she was a strong Irish woman and would not comply to his will as easily, and thus struck back with fiery intensity in her general visage, pushing him backward through the living room. They ended at the entrance to the open kitchen, his back at the counter, her nails digging vigorously through his face.

It was there, the source of all his fears, sitting flat against the counter waiting to be manipulated. In James’s dark undeveloped mind he could see him grabbing up the knife and plunging it into her breast. It would cause her to bleed like the day that he fell off his bike and scraped his knee, and it would cause her to die like the family dog Skippy that had only left a week ago. Such complexities didn’t escape the young boy and he could do nothing but cry out loud, unlatching from his twin and running into the living room, joining their screaming.

It was the knife that stayed with him more than the fight, a fearful symbol of primal qualities as he grew up in the unsteady household. Unnoticeable to anyone James began to latch onto the fear he had embraced that night, becoming obsessed with it, letting it become close in his development as a youth. There were more fights, but his memory always harkened back to that night, when he had uncharacteristically put himself at risk for the sake of his sister, had known real fear for the first time in his life.

She however, grew up much more ambitiously; she knew no fear and often protected her silent and moody twin from school bullies. This earned him scorn as a sissy, but he didn’t mind, he knew he would never fend for himself, and was glad that his sister at least had grown some form of a spine. Needless to say, those events of one protecting the other kept them close.

Things had changed however, and Jessie had been left alone at the cusp of her womanhood, never to see her dear sibling again. She harkened back to those memories of fear once more as her naked body was embraced by the cold darkness. Somehow, she had been suspended, metal cuffs biting at her wrists and ankles, a layer of sickly sweat speckling her skin. From training she could pick up about sixteen others in the room, though her eyes were blinded by some sort of fabric. It was their shoes; all of them wore leather soles, screeching like sirens against the tile floors.

Strangely enough, she wasn’t scared as she had been prone to this kind of treatment on many occasions. Even the threat of pain fell on deaf ears, her mind instead focusing on gathering information as she had been trained to do. Her abilities told her that two of the probable sixteen were close to her, their gloved hands gripping something tightly and their breath coming unsteadily. From the increased breathing she guessed that they were probably male, of the heterosexual variety, and most likely civilian rather than military. With that assessment, Jessie began to formulate a plan of escape. However, she began to realize that there was really no escape in her current position; she would have to wait until she was inevitably placed in a holding cell.

Her keen hearing picked up on doors sliding open and closed, followed closely by the familiar scrape of more leather shoes. From what she could gather their were about three pairs, which had no unison at all though one set had far less friction against the tile floor than the other two. The two that had been close to her naked form moved aside hurriedly, while the other three entered her vicinity. A short silence came from the leader of the three, his breath held fast while the other two were seemingly unimpressed by the form of a naked red head in a bondage situation. Her own breath caught as a hand touched her without her hearing the brush of fabric, the cloth glove tracing her boyish face before tugging at the cloth around her eyes.

Light blinded her for only a moment till focus filled her green eyes, staring at the face of someone she had known as a father figure. “How did I know this would happen?”

Colonel Harrison was a hard old man, his face creased with the wrinkles of too many worries for one man to hold. Even his eyes held the sharpness of someone who had been bathed and raised as a soldier in blood. His dark face was unchanged by Jessie’s snide comment, though she saw the flicker of regret in the hollow void of his eyes. “Jessie Tell, traitor to the Jewel Cutters Association, charged with the endangerment of military plans, the selling of oneself to mercenary work to foreign governments, killing of twenty three American soldiers, abandonment of duty, as well as sixty two other punishable charges by not only the United States Military, but Civilian, and Political courts of law.”

Jessie’s face dropped from grim sarcasm to regret. “Err… Henry, I can’t really say anything as to why I did what I did. But I can claim that feminine problems had something to do with it.”

Feminine problems of course were an excuse that Jessie had used on many occasions to alleviate dangerous situations, which had varying degrees of success. This time though she had no reason for it other than to appear cute, she knew what she had done and would do it again. Thus she was willing to accept any punishment that the Jewel Cutters Guild might have in store for her. She had left the CIA years before to become an operative for the domestic anti terrorist cell, and had sworn the oaths that she would never betray her country or the JCG.

Again his face was unchanged by her last attempt to connect to his feelings, but all she witnessed was the dieing flame in his eyes as he stepped aside revealing the two scientists with hypodermic needles placed gingerly in between their thumbs and forefingers ready to inject the two different chemicals into her body. Jessie’s first instinct was that they were both poisonous compounds and that she was going to die in this degrading position in front of a room full of scientists. However the more factual thought that she was a prisoner experiment reached her as the first scientist stepped forward, the puncturing her pale skin and the liquid burning inside her body.

Its effects were almost immediate and she let out a gasp at the ungodly amount of pain she was sustaining, as if her blood was boiling away within her body. In fervent thought she supposed that even ripping off her own skin and rolling in salt would not produce as much pain, and for the first time since her troubled childhood she was scared of the next needle. Her minds eye however would not accept it as a needle, but instead a knife, glistening under the fluorescent lights as its cold steel tip drew closer to her arm where it would draw her own blood. Her green eyes dilated and she began struggling and screaming at her restraints, words from long ago filling the air with declarations of not stabbing him or killing him. However she was in no place to win the battle with her own fear or the needle, it touched her skin with but the slightest prick and she was lost in the darkness.

James and his father had never gotten along, and it was more apparent now than ever. A snarl crossed the older mans lips and he lumbered forth, his tree trunk arms rising from his burly side to strangle the abomination that he had created. Being a runt meant James did not have any form of strength on his side, yet as a boy he had been expected to have some sort of combat skill, so he relied on dexterity. Ducking to the side, the boys eyes narrowed and he tripped his father who promptly fell onto the rug and got up with a loud bellow.

At that moment James noticed her standing in the entryway of the living room, staring at them both with tears streaking her eyes, her body formed in obvious protest, but her mouth unwilling to speak, limbs unable to unlock. Perhaps it was her appearance that had let him be caught off guard, massive hands grabbing his neck and the chaotic feeling of flying into something hard, stars literally filling his vision as his head was repeatedly jammed against a hard surface. Finally it stopped, and the sounds of heavy breathing were heard hovering over him.

Blood flowed from his nose, spreading against the carpet and sinking in; it wouldn’t be the last that fell against the floor that day. Over him stood his father, fists together, and teeth contorted into an angry scowl, the man had gone nuts. James limply rose to face level with his father, tears in the corners of his eyes. The man took a step forward, and James took one backward in fear. This action continued until James’s back was against the counter, and his hand groped the tile desperately, laying across the hilt of his fathers hunting knife, which was out to be cleaned he recalled. Words were exchanged and his father was enraged once more, in determination to keep his life James gripped the knife and stabbed forward catching his father in the gut.

Once again she awoke in the darkness, though this time it was warm her body bound by thick fabric. A low hum was heard under a melodic tune of an electronic lullaby, which set her fragile mind at ease as she opened her eyes to the slowly turning mobile above her. Something told her this was unfamiliar, though it was quickly staved by another thought almost as if there were two driving voices inside her constantly bickering for supremacy. Instantly she recognized the responding voice to be alien to her, telling her that this was her home, and she was waking up from her daily nap. However Jessica Tell embraced the alien voice letting her eyes wander as her subconscious was entertained by the soft tune above her.

Between an assortment of stuffed toys and white lacquered bars she could see the pastel pink walls with posters of cute animals and a pink dress hanging from an oak door. Smells of sweet perfume drifted with the more powerful smell of talcum powder, and her newly acquired voice told her that her family was prepared for her nasty little habit, and that she should accept being changed out of her heavily soiled diaper when her baby sitter came in. Jessie’s conscious however was calmly assessing the situation as her training had predicted her focus on the mirror which probably let some research team mark her progress with the drugs that had been injected into her body. In the midst of the battle of the two voices she noticed the oak door swing open silently and a man in a lab coat come in with two guards from the JCG.

She knew that she was in no way restrained to make an escape, having only been placed in a crib with a fleece sleeper and a wet and messy diaper, however Jessie was following her subconscious despite the forethought of escaping such demeaning captivity. Worse, she even held her arms out expectantly for the brown haired scientist, wanting desperately to be held in his arms. As she did so, he let down the bars and helped her out of her pink footed sleeper and too the large changing table that had been out of her view. While she lay down on the map her mind forced her to cutely suck her thumb watching the man go to work with her previously sanctified area of operations. Usually she would have made a snide comment but she was content physically and full of inner turmoil as she screamed within her prison.

Through the mirror watched the other scientist led by Richard Draven, a master of nano-technology who had hired the ex-assassin from the custody of the JCG to test his latest endeavor. It was a simple proclamation really; controlling the human psyche with collective shocks to certain areas of the brain stems would give the same affects as hypnotic suggestions. To keep the prisoner tame from her usual brutish roots, Draven would manipulate her subconscious to make emulate an infant, though retain her mind. Of course this would be considered psychological and unethical torture of the patient, but Draven was also a sadist by hobby, and enjoyed seeing a person’s eyes flicker with pain while his body was unable to react.

“Jessica Tell… You’ll really be quite the sniveling baby when this is all over.” Draven stroked his goatee watching the diaper being changed, enjoying the other man spread Vaseline against her crotch while she was helpless to stop him.

Chapter II

It had never been the same since Jessica had left with his mother; he suspected that it never would be until he was legally able to leave the house. Almost immediately after the hasty divorce his father had sunk into lecherous acts, degrading himself to the point of having James go out and get his evening entertainment and sometimes even going so far as to have him tape their bedroom escapades. So to him escaping from his father was not only a safe practice, but also a time to reflect and think upon his own changes. In these times he would escape into the room that had once belonged to his sister, where he had spent the night entwined with her when their parents were fighting loudly.

Jessica had gone with his mother however, and all that was left of her in this house was an old slip that she would wear under her Sunday dress when his parents had the decency to attend the local church. He would sit on carpet and just look at it blankly, his memories and thoughts on where his beautiful sister was. It really wasn’t surprising that he willingly took the next step; his fingers caressed the fabric gently as he lifted it out of the closet. In the magical moment that he slipped it over his head he was transported to a time of joy.

She couldn’t stop crying, her back raw with the whippings she had received, unable to retaliate to the undeserved punishment. Her wails were muffled however by the pacifier that seemed to stay in her mouth despite her udder disdain for the object. Even her tears were not her own, she had been trained to endure many forms of torture. And yet at every crack of the whip against her tender back she shed more tears, her bodily functions out of control in the chaotic grip of fear. When the pain finally stopped she sank to her knees moaning behind her pacifier and heaving up tears, the punisher leaving her to her own pity and bloodied back.

Jessie had come to know Draven well in their short time together, her utter despise for him matching that of the sodden diapers around her waist and the pacifier that her subconscious seemed to cling too. She was too absorbed in crying to react to him grabbing her under the arms and helping her to her feet. He was smiling condescendingly, taking the pacifier from her mouth and stuffing it into his lab coat pocket. Somehow Jessie was slightly disappointed to see the pacifier go, though she supposed it was Dravens doing. She had learned that he was the lead of the experiment she had been volunteered to do by her superiors, and from that knowledge it was easy to assume that Draven was behind all her infantile thoughts as well as every action she was unable to complete despite her will.

“Oh little Jessie, it seems you like being my baby so much that you won’t even retaliate when I do terrible things to you.” His voice slid off his tongue much like a snakes. “Do you love your daddy so much that you are willing to endure punishment and torture daily?”

She wanted to answer, her mind was screaming with insults, puns and even the tiniest bit of sexual sarcasm that she had been known for as an agent of the JCG. However though her conscious was retaliating savagely to his allegations, her subconscious would not budge as she was led to the changing table. There was one thing she was happy about, she was about to be rid of the day old diaper that Draven had refused to change. It had become a daily thing for her to sit in her own waste for a whole day while the scientists along with Draven, poked, prodded and thoroughly punished her for their petty headway into the world of science. Somehow they were making Jessie Tell, once a renowned assassin, defecate and urinate all over herself helplessly. Needless to say Jessie intended to find out what exactly was going on, and how she could neutralize the problem.

After being helped up onto the table by Draven, Jessie was handed a stuffed fox toy which she was expected to play with. Under normal circumstances the fox would have had its stuffing ripped out or fur burned, but she was coaxed by her own subconscious to play with it. Almost immediately she began hugging and babbling babyishly to the toy, telling of how much she loved her diapers and other assorted baby toys. As this happened she watched Draven change her out of the corner of her eye, the black hair scientist grabbing the baby blue plastic box of wipes from a drawer in the table. With a steady hand that could only come from years of doing surgery, the man opened up the diaper letting forth a torrent of bitter smelling waste.

“Little Jessie is very stinky today.” Draven held his nose, but maintained a voice that was a mix between condescension and playfulness.

She could puke at the way he treated her, and she vowed to kill him first once her problem was absolved. However for the time, she was coaxed into giddy giggling caused by what the mind marked as the father figures attitude toward her mess. The gleeful squeal of her laughter did not last long before she sunk back into the charm of the stuffed fox, which to her own amazement she had decided to name ‘Mutt.’

The dog at the orphanage had no name according to the staff, but James soon learned from his peers that they had all named it Mutt. As orphanage legend told, Mutt was a savior of a little girl that had been adopted some years earlier, his act of heroism was saving her from a truck, thus his missing limb. As the tale continued, they said that Mutt had decided to stay at the orphanage to keep the other children safe. Many of the boys were mean to the dog at first, which is why Mutt preferred to laze around the girls hall on a couple of ratty blankets supplied by the Orphanage staff. However when James got settled into the environment of his temporary home, he and Mutt quickly grew toward each other, perhaps only due to their similar character flaws.

In essence both James Tell and Mutt were broken spirits; ridiculed by their own, they sought the guidance in a silent life out of everyone’s way. Though this was contradictory to their base nature, they were protectors of the weak, and at the right time would get over their cowardice to rise above their potential at any cost. As it were they had both lost something when protecting what they loved, Mutt his leg, and James his purity. There were differences though; Mutt was willing to move on, his intelligence and experience pulling him through the darkness forward into a new life. James however was caught stupidly in his own grief, and sought desperately to push the reset button on his life. Though Mutt disagreed he allowed James the key to his new life, the door to the reset button was just down the hall of those ratty blankets, through the door and in the various closets.

Draven watched through the one way mirror as Jessica Tell slept in the crib hugging the bear tightly. He had lost his own humanity in his tireless studies of the human mind, and was merely in this for the lucrative sadism that he could employ on Jessica. It was nothing personal against her; he just wanted to feel that sexual rush that came with inflicting psychological torture upon others. His colleagues and underlings had made comments to how cute the girl looked in diapers, as well dressed in articles of baby clothing. Their whispers behind his back were questions of his sanity, of his treatment to the poor girl. Not like he cared, he had faced many queries in this quest for science, and he expected to face many more before it was over. For the time however he was caught up in his voice journal, recording his own editorial on the subject Jessica tell.

“Day six, August seventh two thousand five. Subject Jessica Tell is responding better to the nanoshock technology than expected. Her brainwave activity is still recorded at optimal status, and the saliva check shows little escaped nanobots. It is my theory that I could sustain her psychosis for another six months easily, though the subject will most likely be terminated by the Jewel Cutters Guild before then. As well I am making new ground on the sudden incontinence of the subject, seemingly the nanobots are causing no damage to her functions, it is even concluded by Dr. Edwards that her muscles are as strong as ever, omitting the brain of course.” Draven paused for a moment, running his fingers through his black hair and glancing at the sleeping Jessica again. “It could be that she is unconsciously associating her status with incontinence, though it could also be a hidden part of the program on the nanobots. Needless to say this will be studied further, in hopes to solve the anomaly.”

In the crib Jessie was supposed to be sleeping for the night, but by some twist of infantile fate, her subconscious decided to be bad and only pretend to be asleep so the men in white coats wouldn’t know. She was inherently glad that even as a baby girl she turned out to be just as much of a bad influence as when she was a assassin. Her thoughts however were not focused on her attitude, rather listening through the oak door of the room for the last swish of the security door. While being changed one day she had remembered seeing a security door behind the oak door that presumably led deeper into the underground facility, possibly to the civilian area of the JCG where the staff slept and spent most their life. Jessie was also careful to count the names on one of the scientist’s clipboard of all the authorized names in the project. While she faked sleeping she had listened to the door open and close, with a hiss of hydraulics, currently only one more needed to leave before she attempted anything.

It finally did so and Jessie’s mind began to race as she tested her mobility, sitting slowly up in the crib she frowned as she realized she had already wet herself, but did nothing to the effect of calling attention to it. Instead she grasped at the sides of the cribs, pulling the clasps and letting down the side which she climbed out of, fully standing up for once in six whole days. Rather than celebrate though, the red haired vixen walked around the room, narrowly avoiding all the toys and studying her confines. Her process was careful and accurate and within an hour she had made a mental map of her surroundings, noting a network jack in the midst of a mountain of stuffed toys.

‘If I can get a laptop, I can contact someone on the outside…’ Jessie thought. ‘I’m also reasonably certain now that this condition I’m currently in is somewhat reactionary. Well, if that’s so, Operation Potty Training begins tomorrow night.’

She smiled and looked over to the glowing clock with the face of a pink kitten, designed to teach little children time Jessica used it as a marker for the times she could operate. As she climbed back into the crib she made another mental note to watch the Oak door for any signs of sensors or locks during her tests tomorrow. Finally everything was coming together, her traumatic six days ending on the seventh much like God creating the earth. Also much like God, her work was not yet done, but at least her mind was able to rest knowing that she had a chance out of the situation.

It was in high school that James had been called into the councilor’s office for his recent habits becoming a little more public. The Irish boy had implored the Orphanage he was living in to take him out of Physical Education due to him not wanting to suffer the embarrassment of having to change in the boy’s locker room. As well, bottles of estrogen supplements had been found in his bag, and were confirmed to be prescribed by a doctor. Needless to say, the faculty had become a little concerned with the boy’s habits. James didn’t like the faculty however, they were nosy and overbearing conformists that intended him to go on one path.

Many children of the time had become despondent, often committing suicide or becoming parts of certain rebellious cliques. Independence scared the elders of the society, and they responded by watching over their shoulders like, while the actual parents were left to guess why their child was waning into obscurity. James had seen this flaw and therefore needed to be conditioned by the school psychiatrist into their way of thinking, so he didn’t bloom into something that everybody else could not bloom into.

The monster wore high heels and smelled heavily of lilac and grapes, she wore a navy blue business suit that called attention to her curves but kept her covered, as well as tan hose that made her look like only her bottom half had touched a tanning booth. Her black hair was pulled back into a tight bun and she wore black framed glasses that went rather nicely with her full dark lips. She sat behind the desk in such a way that many boys would pay attention to her body more than her face, and she was most likely trained to embrace and take advantage of this. James Tell however had no care for females, his father had been that kind of person, always dabbling in the perverseness of heterosexual sex. He however liked girls, but more preferred boys as he never wanted to hurt a girl like his father did.

In the still of the night his eyes were glued to the glowing screen in the darkness, his fingers typing furiously with only the faint glow of the computer to guide them. They had been through too much in their past for him to lose her now, and thus he searched for any leads into the Jewel Cutters Guild network. It was useless however; he was a fair hacker, but nowhere near the level of the worlds top computer engineers. James sighed and considered for a moment giving up, rubbing his nose tiredly and taking a large gulp of the lukewarm beer.

In the warmest corner of the apartment Mutt lifted his head to look at James inquiringly.

James returned the glance with an overly worried expression. “Don’t worry boy, you’ll get your mother back.”