Tamed | By : Jyskyrakas Category: +A through F > Far Cry Series Views: 1814 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I don't own Far Cry 3 and I'm not making money writing this. |
Vaas crouched in front of the cage. The walls had proven countless of times to be sturdy enough to keep inside whoever was unlucky enough to be imprisoned within. And boy, had there been a lot people. None had ever escaped.
Until he met Jason Brody.
With his associate working as a spotter in a club in Thailand, there was bound to be young curious adventure seekers who would only end up as slaves when they arrived on the Rook. So much for adventure.
Jason and his friends had been skydiving. Harmless fun, that is until they got to the island. They were caught easily enough, it made Vaas wonder if they even tried to resist. The pirate recalled the night like it was yesterday. When he first laied his eyes on the boy, he was sure Jason was like any other person he encountered almost on daily basis. He could still remember the fear in eyes when the pirate introduced himself to him and his older brother.
He could have never guessed Jason got on the same boat with Citra. That fucking bitch was always searching for someone to use for her sick, twisted ideologies. She only needed someone gullible enough to fall to her clutches, and when Jason came into the picture, the real game started.
Jason had tried to kill him. He had failed of course.
Vaas glanced inside the cage. The one he was searching for was currently lying on the ground his back against the bamboo of the cage attempting to rest, even just a little, albeit not being all that successful. His breathing was very ragged, and his body kept twitching. He was evidently suffering from nightmares.
"Wake the fuck up!", Vaas snarled.
Jason jumped eyes wide awake. He noticed the pirate outside of the cage and without delay his body moved, kneeling in front of him. His eyes were wide of fear and his bottom lip trembled. Vaas kept on his frighteningly intense eye contact with the boy shifting his hand to the young man's cheek. Jason's brow furrowed shadowing his eyes. He pressed silently against the man's hand. He then closed his eyes. The pirate didn't. He stroked the his cheek a bit before letting his hand fall. Noticing the warmth vanishing, Jason raised his head seemingly confused. His eyes once vivid green were now reduced to dull lifeless color. There was no hope left in them. They were glazed and dry, and he had developed dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep. He stared at Vaas, silently asking a question.
Why?
The question could have had multiple meanings, but Vaas wouldn't answer any of them. He had no doubt Jason would have tried to pry the answer from him by force, in that far away time before all this had happened. Before he was broken. The pirate squinted, examining the younger man still kneeling in front of him. Considering. Maybe he should have left his vocal cords alone. It was way too quiet now.
He noticed the faint trails of tears on the boy's cheeks. He wasn't sure if they were old or new. He had thought Jason had no more tears to cry.
He had wanted to break the boy, not too fast mind you, because there was nothing exciting about that. And that was one thing Vaas needed in his life. From all things he could have asked for, he needed excitement.
Vaas Montenegro didn't born to a typical, normal life. He couldn't claim he was a typical, normal person either. But that didn't mean he was fucking crazy.
Vaas watched as Jason's expression started to change into something resembling a deep despair. The young man didn't need an ability to speak for Vaas to know what was going on in his head. Jason was so fucking predictable. Now and before. Rich, spoiled pretty boy was given a gun and he started thinking himself a hero. Vaas was there to prove him wrong.
First Vaas had killed all his meddling friends. He had forced Jason to watch the whole ordeal. Vaas cherished the screams of horror coming out of Jason's throat when he was yelling for the pirate to stop. He had cursed at him. He had cried. He even pleaded. But Vaas didn't stop until they were all dead. He made sure Jason would see his little brother dying slowly and painfully choking in his own blood. The women were given to his men. The last two were tortured to death.
Vaas locked him up after that. After weeks of both social and light deprivation, Vaas started to see the change in his eyes. He was losing his will to live. But that didn't mean he was broken. Oh no. He was still the same annoying fuck Vaas knew him to be, he still didn't know concept of shutting the fuck up. At some point he started beating him, countless of times, usually ending with Jason losing his consciousness from the pain. When he woke up, he kept going at it. In a sense Vaas had started it as means to relieve his anger whenever his men fucked up or something else pissed him the hell off. Usually Jason himself was the origin of his ire.
But no matter how many times Vaas beat him up, Jason kept fighting against him, spitting blood and spit and curses. As the time went on it started to get boring. And repetitive. It had became a routine. He didn't like that one bit.
He had started to notice his fist hitting Jason in the face or the tip of his shoe buried in the young man's abdomen didn't give him that feeling of relief he had once got. To top that, Jason still hadn't learnt his place. It made Vaas even more fucking pissed than he had been before he came in to have a go with his own personal punching bag. With Hoyt's death, he had plenty of time on his hands to learn what made Jason tick, so to speak. Things lead to another and then Vaas ended up forcing himself on the younger man. Jason started to finally crack. Before he even knew it himself, Vaas had taken Jason's sanity with him when he got dressed and left the room.
Vaas ran his hand through the bars to the reach of the once-so-called-warrior. The latter approached the pirate right away like he was the most important thing that ever walked on the face of earth. Vaas squinted again, adoring how a man deprived of tenderness could so easily become absorbed in so little attention provided to him. Jason wrapped his cold fingers around Vaas's hand. He slowly brought his lips to the pirate's digits, planting a few kisses here and there. Vaas massaged Jason's chapped lips with his index finger, which tempted the latter to take the digit into his mouth, both sucking and licking it like his life depended on it. Ironically, it had once. The pirate's lips twisted almost forcefully into a grim smile.
Jason was now like an kicked animal who was tired of being afraid, too tired to defend himself. An animal who had one day decided to keep his owner happy just not to get hurt anymore.
Emptiness returned to the pirate's face.
It wasn't fun anymore.
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