Chapter Two
His blows weren't meant to kill, simply to debilitate. Apollo when for the nerve points in the male's legs, knowing if he hit them correctly, they would lose all feeling.
The only question was: could he do it?
Ryker was slightly surprised to find a man who could keep up with him. He moved like lightening, avoiding the blow with a parry from his shackle.
The force of the blows were earth shattering.
Apollo gritted his teeth at each hit, trying to ignore the way his own shirt was sticking to his sweating skin. The speed of his opponent was staggering. Apollo had thought himself fast, but this?
The Reaper tried to drive the prisoner into a corner, methodically striking out at the prisoner's arms, torso, and legs, only to start over again in a seemingly tireless circuit.
Ryker flipped backwards, avoiding a blow, swinging out with a nimble leg. He landed a few blows of his own, before going back to blocking the other blows. He was silently impressed that the male actually posed a challenge.
This was getting tiresome. He may not have been showing it, but Apollo was being given a run for his money. Time to play dirty.
With a frontal assault on the prisoner, Apollo threw a fake punch to divert attention so he was able to kick up a cloud of sand into his opponents face from the cell floor.
Ryker let out a slight "gah!" as the dust flew into his face. He dropped backwards, closing his eyes and listening. He'd fought blind before. It slowed him some, but he was still on his toes.
He frowned, listening for the slight breathing of his opponent.
Apollo smirked, dodging the Radant's punches. He circled around the male as slowly as he could, not making a sound as he held his breath, waiting for the right moment to strike.
It came when he finally slid in behind the prisoner. In one deft movement, Apollo hit all four of his opponent's energy points, rendering the male's arms and legs totally useless.
Ryker groaned, as he hit the ground hard. He opened his eyes, trying to move his fingers again. He failed and cursed under his breath. Dirty Gurutian.
Apollo sighed when the prisoner fell. There was no triumph, only relief that he could relax for a moment. "Guards!" He shouted at the top of his voice as he kicked the Radant to his back with a booted foot. Apollo wondered why he didn't call for help sooner. Was it because he truly didn't want this beauty before him to be killed? He wasn't sure.
"Take this man to my room." Apollo barked out as a handful of soldiers crowded in. "I want him cuffed and stripped of his clothing. Make sure there is no way he can escape." The Reaper paused and rolled his eyes, eying the slobbering mess on the ground. "I suppose have a physician take care of Picket. That is all."
The soldiers did as they were told, both Picket and the Division scum carted off to their respective places.
*~*~*~*~ Ryker growled as the damn guards roughly pulled him away. As soon as he was able to move his arms, he was going to kick some major ass.
He frowned as he was pushed roughly to the ground, the Gruesome guards shacking him to a large bed as another pair of hands ripped off his clothes. Ryker growled. "Get your dirty hands off of me you fuckers!" he growled.
The guard struck him across the face before leaning down. "Consider yourself lucky scum, it's not often that dirt such as yourself gets to see the master's room.”
"I don't give a flying fuck! Soon as I get free I'll--" he began before they gagged him, shackling his legs so he was spread eagled and nude on his back. One of the guards grinned. "He's a rather attractive little Rodent, isn't he?" he asked, smirking.
~*~*~*~
Apollo massaged his temples, the last one to take the stairs from the dungeon. What had his uncle been thinking?! Fortunately for Jeta, he was out on one of his usual crusades; otherwise Apollo would have taken his head, family or no.
Giving another of his usual, world-weary sighs, he trudged all the way back up from the dungeon to the floor his room was on. He stopped a servant on the way, asking for a hot bath to be drawn and food brought up to his rooms for the Division Dog.
*~*~*~*~
Ryker glared as the filthy guards ran their hands over his skin. He tried desperately to flex his finger, kick his leg, do something--but to no avail.
"Get your filthy hands off of me!" he growled around the gag, head-butting a guard that got too close. That earned him another slap and a sword to his neck.
“Oh, what’s wrong pretty dog? You should be honored that a noble Gurutian would even dare touch you, now just shut up and lie back or we’ll slit that pretty neck,” the guard chuckled, as he reached for his belt to loosen the leather armor.
Ryker jerked against his bindings, glaring at the asshole. He was going to kill him.
The second guard grinned, keeping the blade to Ryker’s neck as he ran a rough hand down Ryker’s body, palming his cock roughly. “There you go, pretty dog. There’s a good boy.”
Ryker jerked once more against the bindings again. Bastard.
~*~*~*~
The sight the greeted Apollo when he entered his rooms stopped him in his tracks, but only for a moment. When he managed to regain himself, he sprinted over to the bed where the soldiers were currently trying to defile HIS prisoner. Nobody fucked with what was his, even if it was a dirty Division dog.
"What in the fuck do you think you're doing?" Apollo raged, blue eyes alight with fury. When the guards didn't back off quick enough, he backhanded the one who was closest, sending him flying across the room. The soldiers backed off then.
"Get out." Apollo seethed. "To the cellar with you dogs. Inform master Rufio that you are to be punished." The soldiers paled considerably, but they dared not tangle with the mighty Reaper.
One by one they left the room, tails between their legs. When they were gone, Apollo was at the prisoner's side. "Are you alright? Did they do anything to you?" He asked with evident concern as he pulled the gag from the man's mouth. He didn't want to unshackle him just yet.
Ryker regarded the man with obvious distrust. "Just fucking peachy," he replied tightly, staring at him with a certain hardness in his eyes that covered the confusion he felt. Why did the Gruesome even bother protecting him?
Apollo threw his cloak over the man for propriety’s sake, but he couldn't help but ogle the perfect body for just a second. "Well that's just dandy then." The Reaper snorted, giving a tug on the captive’s bindings.
"If I untie your legs, do you promise not to kick?” Apollo asked with a small smile.
Ryker batted his pretty long blond eyelashes at Apollo, mockingly. "Of course," he said not adding on the "I will" to the end of the sentence. He rose an eyebrow at the rich cloak that was thrown over him.
"Fuck you." Apollo snapped, letting the shackles go, leaving them intact. "I don't mind you spread like this." He dragged the cloak away again, revealing the dusky body it hid to make his point. "Now look, if you're going to lie to me, save it. I'll be nice to you and you don't try and knock my teeth out how about?"
The Reaper wrinkled his nose. The prisoner really was dirty. "However, if you treat me badly. I will reciprocate. Got it?" He paused, crossing his arms, cloak still in hand. "Now, what do you have to say?”
Ryker was tempted to laugh; this struck him as humorous for some reason. "Sure, Reaper. Temporary truce." he said, giving in, just a tad. His blond hair was nearly black, and his white skin looked dusty tan in the light and from the dust. He desperately needed a bath.
Apollo didn't think things were so funny as he returned the cloak to its place and unlatched the shackles on the man's legs. He did his hands also, but brought them around to stay cuffed in front of the prisoner.
Just then, the servant came in to announce that a bath was ready. "Well, get on up." Apollo said evenly. "Bath time." He remained slightly on edge, wondering what the Division soldier was going to do.
