Read Online Immortal by Kelvin Kelley - Free Book Online Page B

mouth.
With one quick motion, the Guardian ripped the shirt from Donovan’s
limp body, and as it fluttered to the stage floor, the Guardian
reached down and held something close to Donovan’s face. Suddenly
he was awake. He shook his head to get it away from the Guardian’s
hand. He was coughed and sputtered. As he began to realize where he
was, his eyes began to look around wildly. He seemed to say
something, as his lips moved, but Jericho could make out no
intelligible words. The Guardian stepped back to the edge of the
stage, and with no announcement or warning, its arm flicked
forward, and the whip that had been unseen moments ago lashed out
and wrapped around Donovan’s back and up his side.
    The crack was loud, but not near as loud as
his scream. His eyes were wide now. So wide they looked unreal. And
blood began to well up in the red mark left behind from the whip.
The Guardian sent the next stroke on its way.
    Donovan wailed, and the bottom of his pants
suddenly began to drip, as his bladder let go. This second lash had
wrapped around his other side, and in less than a second, blood
already dripped from this wound. The third lash hit before the air
had run out of Donovan’s lungs from his first scream, and his
scream became that of a choking cry. He passed out, and slumped
against the post. The Guardian paused. For a few seconds, it was
silent. All was motionless. Another second passed, and blood ran
down Donovan’s back and sides. Was he even breathing? Jericho
thought. From where he was standing, he couldn’t tell. His stomach
turned flip flops, and he thought sure he was going to throw up his
meal. He looked back to see if he could see Gabrielle, but the
crowd which had gone totally silent, blocked his view. No one so
much as whispered. The Guardian took a step towards Donovan, and
then bent down towards his face, and again held its hand in front
of his face. Instantly, he coughed, sputtered, and seemed to fight
for air. He was awake, and his eyes were wide. And even as he
looked around, he tried to get his bearings. The Guardian stepped
back to the edge of the stage. And faster than Jericho could have
thought possible, the Guardian’s arm moved, the wrist flicked, and
Donovan screamed again. It was a blood curdling scream. Agony
sprayed from Donovan’s mouth with bits of spittle, as lines of spit
hung from his mouth. His eyes were still wild and bloodshot.
    “No!” Donovan screamed, as another stroke
wrapped around his split and bleeding flesh, and his body contorted
in mind bending pain. He gagged, drooled, cried, and screamed.
Jericho saw his eyes. Donovan would not disobey again. The man
beside Jericho suddenly bent and vomited, and barely missed
Jericho’s own shoes. Jericho fought the gorge in his own throat. He
was determined to see this through to the end. He felt that he owed
it to himself, and also to Donovan as he screamed, and bled. Once
again, Donovan passed out. The Guardian paused, and seconds passed.
It approached the unconscious Donovan again. Once again, seconds
later Donovan was awake, and he screamed with a ferocity that would
surely tear his lungs from his body. And once again the Guardian
assumed its position. The whip cracked. Jericho’s stomach flipped.
Would it ever stop, he thought.
    It seemed to take forever, but it was finally
over. The last stroke had been thrown, and for the final time
Donovan had passed out, and hung limply from his chains. In all, it
had been fifteen strokes from the whip, each delivered with
emotionless precision by the Guardian. Donovan had needed to be
revived six times before it was over. In the end, Jericho had
managed to not throw up, but several of those around him were not
so lucky. As soon as it was obvious that the final crack of the
whip was the last, Jericho headed back towards the girls, but he
took one last look at Donovan’s limp body, just as the Guardian
approached to release him. Good, bad or indifferent, Jericho
thought that he had