Secrets and Consequences Part Four
Rated: R

A massive, throbbing headache greeted MacGyver when he regained consciousness. Groaning, he moved his hands up to his head to gently massage and soothe it with his fingertips, brushing against a small bandage he didn’t remember having before. Weak and exhausted, he tried to lean back, only to have the glass paneling that surrounded him deliver him another punishing shock, causing him to release an anguished, surprised cry and fall forward on the concrete floor. Before he could recover, he suffered from a much more intense and excruciating pain than he had ever experienced before, not even during his most severe injuries, attacking him suddenly and without warning, affecting his entire body and feeling like dozens of long, sharp, jagged knives stabbing him repeatedly, dragging downward and ripping open his flesh, cutting into him deeply, down to his bones. There was nothing he could do to stop it, the unbearable torment merciless and unrelenting. He screamed and howled loudly, writhing and twisting on the floor, unable to find any relief. His screams continued until he was hoarse, and by then he was reduced to making only small, pitiful whimpers, pleas, and moans, tears weeping from his tightly closed eyes. When it seemed that there would never be an end to this incessant torture, MacGyver was prepared to seek comfort in oblivion, about to pass out when it stopped as abruptly as it had begun, leaving his body sore, aching, and trembling from extreme duress.

“It’s been seven years since our organization began the design and development of the technology for this highly sophisticated device,” a voice said above him. “Seven years since Ashley’s death. There was still concern over whether it was ready for human trials, but it appears it works quite nicely.”

Squinting and wincing through the searing pain that lingered, MacGyver looked up and recognized through his blurry, teary eyes the man he had seen earlier, the leader of the group that had abducted him, their purpose still unclear to him. The man held a remote control device in his hand, grinning sadistically, enjoying listening to the tormented screams and pleas of his captive, enjoying watching him suffer, his body writhing and convulsing on the floor, his muscles contracting and clenching, balling in spasms, completely helpless and unable to prevent it.

“You have a chip implanted in your brain, MacGyver. With this,” he said, waving the remote, “I can control it. I can make it do anything. That unpleasant experience you just went through was the activation and overstimulation of every nerve and pain receptor. And that’s not all. I can do other things, such as suspend your respiration.” Grinning, he pressed another button on the remote device.

Soon, MacGyver felt himself asphyxiating, incapable of drawing adequate breath, his lungs stilled and not functioning. Terror and panic filled him as he struggled to breathe, feeling as if he were drowning. No matter how desperately he fought for even the smallest intake of precious oxygen it was denied to him. Dizziness began to overwhelm him, and blackness began to gather around the corners of his eyes. Laughing, once again finding pleasure in manipulating his prisoner, enjoying watching his eyes bulge and his limbs jerk and flail, the man stopped when it appeared MacGyver was about to black out, leaving him gasping, coughing, and panting frantically, rolling around on the floor and shuddering as he tried to recover, relieved to have his lungs working properly again.

“Who…are…you?” MacGyver asked when he had recovered enough, still fighting for air as he asked the question, every word he uttered requiring intensive effort just to allow any audible sound of any clarity to escape his lips.

“Evan Scott,” the man said, his jaw twitching as tears threatened to emerge from his otherwise cold and lifeless eyes. “Ashley was my sister.”

MacGyver looked at him in surprise. “I…I’m s-sorry…” he whispered, still catching his breath.

Evan released a hollow, bitter laugh. “Sorry? No, you’re not sorry, MacGyver,” he said. “But you will be. I’ll make you sorry. I’ll make you sorry that you ever hurt her and tossed her aside as if she were worthless. I’ll make you sorry that you killed her. You never cared about her. She may have meant nothing to you, but she was something to me, and you took her away from me. You destroyed her out of your own careless disregard. Now, I’m going to destroy you, slowly, painfully…there will be nothing you can do to stop it. With this…” he showed the remote device again, his hands trembling with emotion. “With this, I own your brain. I can program it to do whatever I want, and you can’t remove the chip without causing irreparable brain damage or worse. It’s programmed to self-destruct should anyone tamper with it in any way.” His lips quivered as they formed a strange, disturbing smile. “So you see, there truly is no clever escape for you. Not this time. Even if you were to leave this facility, I could still control you. You will never have freedom again. All your thoughts, all your actions…I can control them as I like. I will forever haunt you, punishing you as a constant reminder of what you’ve done to my sister through your thoughtless actions.”

He pressed the button that activated the pain centers in MacGyver’s brain once again, this time closing his eyes and smiling peacefully as he listened to him scream in agony, finding it as beautiful and relaxing to listen to as a symphony. He allowed the torture to continue longer than it did previously, only opening his eyes once he released the control button, staring into the pleading, tearful, suffering eyes of his prisoner, his face contorted in a grimace.

“Marvelous device, isn’t it? Just think of the possibilities! Originally, it was created to interrogate captured enemy agents and painfully coerce information from them, but considering that you are also one of our enemies and have been a detriment to our international operations for years, I volunteered you as the first test subject. I had to wait seven long years, but it was well worth my patience. I suppose the personal motivation also helped, just knowing that I could at last make you suffer for what you did to Ashley…” he laughed slightly. “You don’t realize what you’ve done, the harm you caused, but you will. You’ve angered the wrong person, MacGyver, and now you will suffer the consequences as a result.”

He pressed the pain stimulus button again, this time watching as MacGyver went into convulsions and screamed, his limbs pulling tautly, his muscles tightening and twitching, his hands clawing at his head as if attempting to rip the chip out of his brain. This time, Evan was brief, releasing the button after only a few minutes, listening to MacGyver’s strained, labored breathing when it was over.

“Is that what this is about? Revenge?” MacGyver asked weakly, his voice faint and raspy from all his screaming.

“Partly,” Evan said, grinning brutally. “Also, consider it a lesson in how to treat people. You thought you could get away with what you did to her without suffering some form of retribution. Well, you were wrong.”

“You don’t…think I’ve suffered all these years too?” MacGyver asked, thinking about the discussion he had with Pete at the cemetery. “I’ve never stopped feeling guilty about what happened to her, wishing there was something I could have done differently to save her. I’ve never stopped grieving for her. But Evan, you have to understand…she killed herself. It was her decision to end her life, not mine. I didn’t kill her.”

Evan’s facial muscles tightened and twitched as if he were battling more tears that threatened to emerge. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he said. “You killed her, MacGyver. It was precisely your actions that led to her death. Do you think she would have committed suicide had you remained together? I would have been displeased, of course, but at least she would have been happy. She would have been alive. You stole her happiness and her life from her. Now, I’m going to do the same to you.”

“It would have…been worse had I remained with her,” MacGyver said, blinking away drops of sweat that had fallen into his eyes, stinging them. “I couldn’t lie to her. I didn’t love her. I wanted to, badly, but I just…couldn’t. She needed to know the truth. When you love and respect someone, you have to tell them the truth, even if they…don’t want to hear it.”

“Why?” Evan asked, shouting, his eyes ablaze with fury, his facial muscles again twitching uncontrollably. “Why couldn’t you love her? She was so easy to love! Yet you could callously discard her as if she were nothing!” He pressed the pain stimulus button again, this time leaving it on for a prolonged period of time.

The ripping and tearing sensations returned to MacGyver’s body, feeling as if he was being flayed alive, the skin peeling from his body, and once again there was no reprieve. As he listened to himself scream, a part of him began to wonder through the pain-filled haze of his mind if Evan was right, if he deserved to suffer for what he had done to cause Ashley’s death, for his responsibility in it. The constant torment dulled his other senses and made him resigned to his fate, accepting it. As the screams died in his throat and he began to succumb to unconsciousness, the pain becoming far too intolerable to bear any longer, he wondered if there was a reason he had been captured and was slowly being tortured to death, the chip in his brain finishing what simple feelings of guilt could not, acting as a reminder of how truly coldhearted he had been to her.

“Why couldn’t you love her?” Evan shouted as the torture continued.

“I…don’t…know…” MacGyver said through clenched teeth.

“I’ll ask again. Why couldn’t you love her?”

“I…don’t…”

“Answer me! Why couldn’t you love her?”

His surroundings and awareness began to fade, Evan’s shouts and demands echoing around him.

Welcome to hell, MacGyver…

To be continued…

Ohhhhhh!!!! Poor Mac! Loving this story!

poor MacGyver, another great one.

For some strange reason or another I've always liked the name "EVAN". Blue/green eyes and sandy brown hair. I must be nuts

Ouch! This Evan is really a sicko! Poor MacGyver Pete better hurry up and find out that his "child" is missing!

Excellent chapter, MacsChick. Thank you!