Birthing Pains

"Have you seen this man?" a middle-aged brown haired man questioned in a sharp tone as he held up a picture to a younger and more handsome man.

David had been here less than a day, yet he had fallen prey to a trap and gotten captured. As for his captors, how could he not recognise them? They were Fyers and his band of mercenaries. No matter how he wished this to be a dream, he could not deny the reality before him. He was fucked.

Putting on his most oblivious expression, he insisted, "I told you already, I have never seen this man. I don't know who he is!" That was a lie. How could he not recognise Yao Fei, the man who saved and sheltered Oliver Queen when he first arrived on Lian Yu.

When he woke up on the beach with the billionaire playboy's memories, David assumed he'd get the same treatment; a safe place to hide and a mentor to guide him in survival and archery. However, his expectations were shattered when the mercenaries found him first, leading us to current events.

Seeing the pointless nature of this endeavor, Fyers stuffed the picture into his pocket and stood up. "Very well," he said, before waving to someone outside the tent.

"What? What's going on?" Seeing his fears manifest right before his eyes, David's eyes widened as he stood up and knocked the chair over. Tall and garbed in black like Fyers, Billy Wintergreen's deathstroke mask jolted David's memories and gave him a vivid image of the hell in store for him.

"What is this?!" he yelled as the masked mercenary approached him. "Stop! Sto-" -BAM!- Wintergreen struck him in the nose, putting a stop to his attempts at a protest.

Feeling his eyes water and stars dance across them, a rage and regret unlike any other took root inside David. He accepted this rebirth opportunity so that he could live again. So that he could be something other than nothing.

Whatever he became or wherever he ended would be decided by the entity. Hence, he'd braced himself for anything. Yet, this situation seemed aptly placed to test his resolve as it shattered every mental preparation of his.

When the stars vanished from his eyes, he found himself bound to a pole with Wintergreen standing before him, sword in hand. His fearful gaze went past the masked man and fell on Fyers, who stood behind his subordinate with both arms crossed behind him.

"I don't know anything! What is the point of this?!!"

David did not receive an answer… at least, not one he expected. An intense scream of agony tore out of his throat as Wintergreen stabbed him in the abdomen and slid the knife upward, carving a red line across and through his body in an unhurried manner.

In the midst of the cut, the masked mercenary noticed something strange and pulled his blade free. David's cries were also short-lived. Even before Wintergreen pulled out the blade, the piercing agony didn't last long, fading to a dull throb just as soon as it came. His screams mellowed as well, turning into pitiful whimpers and sharp intakes of breath.

The pain vanished, and David, unable to understand, looked down in confusion to see his abdomen intact save for the blood. 'What the hell?' This development blew his expectations out of the park, however, he hadn't forgotten his situation.

He raised his head to see Fyers, standing beside Wintergreen and scrutinizing him with an astonished gaze.

"Fascinating. I must say, you are full of surprises."

"Please. Let me go. I don't know anything," David begged, fearing the worst.

Fyers treated his words like air and stared at him for a few more seconds before turning to leave. As he lifted the flap of the tent, the mercenary leader left behind the words, "He's all yours," drowning him further in the pit of despair.

His pleading eyes moved from the tent flap back to Wintergreen, only to receive the same dismissive treatment. Such behavior nourished the resentment in his heart, transforming it into rage at his captors and self-loathing at himself.

These people never planned to let him go. The moment they found him, his fate had been decided. And this… healing factor, god knows where it came from, had worsened the situation. Before, they would've probably tortured him for a while and just killed him.

Now, they would just torture him to their heart's content and probably experiment new ways to kill him. This filled him with a cold and harsh dread that threatened to keep him begging. However, Wintergreen's cold unfeeling eyes reminded him of the kind of people he was dealing with.

Begging didn't work before and it wouldn't work now. Continuing to do so would be pointless and pathetic.

As the bloody knife neared him once more, he grit his teeth and screamed at himself inwardly, 'I chose this! I can handle it!' This pitiful attempt to psych himself didn't last one second and crumbled before the overwhelming pain.

AAAARRHH!!!

Agonized screams filled the tent and spilled out into the camp, having no effect on its inhabitants as they went about their normal activities.

…..

Half an hour later…

"Does he know anything?" Fyers asked.

Wintergreen responded with a shake of his head. The mercenary leader took a step closer and noted David's appearance. His once sky blue shirt was now ruined with cuts and massive bloodstains. Many parts of his skin were visible through the ragged shirt, yet, not a single injury could be seen on his blood-mottled skin.

He also noted David's reaction… or lack thereof, and asked, "Is he still alive?" He turned to Wintergreen and received a nod. "Did you try shooting him?" When Fyers saw his masked subordinate shake his head, he unholstered his own gun and shot David point blank in the face.

BANG!

Like a puppet with its strings cut, David's body slumped even further, straining against the ropes holding him up.

With bated breath and curious gazes, the mercenaries observed the see through hole in the prisoner's head out close up in no more than two seconds. A few seconds after that, the man himself sprang up, opened his eyes and combed the tent in confusion until clarity and recollection shone in his eyes.

Hatred and rage took their place soon afterward, until they also vanished as he hung his head in defeat.

"Take him away," Fyers ordered. Wintergreen drew one of his blades and cut David loose, and the two masked soldiers behind Fyers strode over, picked him up and dragged him away.

'A chance,' David thought as he lifted his head. If he had known about his regeneration beforehand, he would have fought with his all to avoid capture. After all, just as Fyers demonstrated, bullets could not stop him… provided they steered clear of his head.

'No matter what, I have to escape.'

Outside the tent, his hopeless countenance had long disappeared. He whipped his head about, taking in the view of the camp. Over thirty armed men, all dressed in black, milled about the camp, performing various activities. He treated their existences like air and instead focused on spots sparse with them.

He found some, however, none of them proved to be viable options. Even if he got past the soldiers, there would be nowhere for him to hide. With no trees or tall grass to obscure him and aid his escape, David doubted he'd get far before a stray bullet found its way into his head.

Undaunted, he kept searching, and soon set his sights on the forest at the edge of the camp. As a matter of fact, this had been his first choice. However, he dismissed it for being too close to the cages the mercenaries planned to lock him up in.

'It seems I have no choice,' he thought while gazing at the two armed guards between the cages and the forest. None of this stirred any worries in him. In fact, he couldn't feel much of anything now. His emotions had all but disappeared, leaving him apathetic and calm.

It was as though the world had gained a dull gray filter. He didn't know the exact moment it happened, but it occurred sometime during the "interrogation."

Not long after Fyers left the tent and Wintergreen resumed, David's agony reached such a height that it birthed the desire to kill in him. He wanted to kill Wintergreen and Fyers, and swore to himself to do so should he ever get free. The instant this thought solidified into a desire, the world around him changed.

Cold and calculated thinking assumed the driver's seat while the surging rage and regret faded into the background. The pain no longer distracted him, and his thoughts flowed clearer than ever. When he looked at Wintergreen through this new lens, knowledge on how to kill the man emanated in his mind.

The knowledge consisted of attacks involving precise movements, targeting specific body parts and how much force to use. They seemed simple and effortless, yet David could not enact any of them because of his bonds. Moreover, even if he were free, Wintergreen would not just stand there and watch him attack.

Now that he was no longer bound and still in this "killer state," David decided to take advantage of it. Compared to Wintergreen, these grunts were far easier targets.

Soon, the trio reached the cages and one of them let go of David to open the cage, unknowingly giving him the go ahead to act. As soon as the mercenary inserted the key into the padlock, David focused on the one clutching his arm and landed a ruthless stomp on his knee, sending a resounding crack and scream throughout their surroundings.

At the same time, he yanked his arm free and stepped forward, ignoring everything else but the soldier in front of him. Before the soldier could turn around, David grabbed his head and smashed it into the cage twice.

The other soldiers had noticed him and began firing while making their way to him. He gritted his teeth and paid them nor their bullets heed. As the tiny projectiles pierced and grazed him, he stooped low and grabbed the downed soldier's knife and gun before bolting towards his freedom.

Just as he crossed the line formed by the cages, several bloody flowers bloomed in his chest alongside a fierce eruption of pain that made him grunt.

Being the closest to David, the soldiers guarding the path to the forest had the clearest shot and had therefore taken it. They however didn't expect him to remain on his feet, much less run toward them while screaming and firing.

Just because his emotions did not drive his actions did not mean he could not feel pain. He could still feel it, but it no longer obstructed his thoughts and concentration. That's why the instant the soldiers opened fire on him, he grit his teeth and pushed through it.

Taking advantage of their momentary shock and pause, he returned fire, downing the two men in his way. Unlike him, they went down and stayed there.

Before he knew it, the unique scent of a jungle reached his nose, beckoning him to speed up. As he dove into the forest, joy filled him all of a sudden, and the world regained color. This abrupt change caught him off guard, yet, instead of hindering him, it spurred him on.

After all, there would be no room for joy if he ended up captured again.

He tossed the gun aside, tightened his grip on the knife and ran with all his might. Some bullets found their way into him, and his bare feet sustained numerous injuries. However, his healing factor and the well illuminated forest allowed him to maintain and even widen the distance between himself and his captors.

After just a few minutes, the mercenaries gave up the pursuit. David, though aware of this, didn't slow down for even a second. Forget the other creative ways they'd come up with to try and kill him. He'd rather die than be "interrogated" again.

Unfortunately, death no longer knew his name.