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Vice Grip	By : stormsiren006 Category: DC Verse Comics > Superman Views: 6762 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Superman, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Trevor woke up with a start. He found himself seated in a large metal chair in a small alcove, like a cubicle, that was facing an open room and he had a distinct feeling that he had never been there before. There was no light in the room at all except for the one very bright one that was shining down on him from approximately three feet directly above and it obscured his vision to the darkened area outside the alcove that he was situated in but his eyes began to adjust and soon he was able to focus more clearly into the room beyond his current position. He did not see or otherwise sense anyone else in the room with him. He noticed the chintzy looking beige colored wallpaper that coated the walls around the room was faded and peeling and there were many dark stains, presumably from water damage, near the ceiling. The ceiling itself was a made of false tile panels, the sort you might seen in an office of some kind, but like the wallpaper in the room they also showed signs of age and neglect. Several of the tiles were broken with missing pieces while others were missing altogether and the gaps revealed the grimy square-shaped piping directly beyond the facade that was meant to hide them. Ventilation ducts and maybe some wiring conduits and such, Trevor thought to himself. The place smelled musty, like an old basement perhaps, and there appeared to be no windows in the room at all. Trevor realized the possibility that the room could be underground somewhere, perhaps in the basement of some old office building, but for the moment he had no way of telling what kind it was or where it might be located. The air in the room was cold and dank so whatever climate control units the building might have had were not currently in operation so he could feel the wet October night as it permeated the room. He also noticed with much dismay that his wrists and ankles were bound by heavy shackles to the chair that he was sitting in. The chair was a bit rusty but was quite sturdy and he was unable to move it at all. He looked down and saw that the legs of the chair were bolted to the floor. The floor itself was covered with the remnants of some dirty old bluish carpeting that was severely worn to the point of being mostly threadbare. He could see that many spots of the rug outside the alcove he was in had been ripped up and removed exposing the dried brownish colored glue on the flooring beneath that had once held it in place. His heart fluttered in his chest and his breath became equally frantic as he tried desperately to squeeze his hands out of the shackles that were attached to his wrists. The chains clattered a bit as they rustled against the metal armatures of the chair but it was no use, the restraints had been adjusted very tightly to the point that they nearly cut off his blood circulation as it was and they would not budge an inch without causing serious damage to his tissue, let alone come off his hands. Trevor breathed a heavy sigh and tried to calm himself as he ceased with the pointless struggle for the moment as he knew there was no point in wasting his energy. He had a feeling that whoever had kidnapped him and brought him to this place would be back soon enough. He tried to keep his mind at ease as best as he could since there was nothing else he could do for the time being but he was terrified to think about what his captors might want with him. He remembered the horrors he’d faced during his recent years of captivity all too well. He’d initially been admitted, against his will, as a patient in a seemingly normal mental hospital over a decade ago for severe trauma that he’d been subjected to by his father when he was much younger but had later been transferred to a secret underground laboratory where he was experimented on in all kinds of painful and degrading ways for three solid years. He’d been poked, prodded, drugged, cut open, cut apart, sewn back together. Oftentimes the surgeries were performed without anesthetics, to test his threshold of pain. He’d also been subjected to numerous decompression experiments among other things. Stuff that was straight out of a Nazi horror story. Stuff that no one on the outside would believe. He’d finally managed to escape that hellhole but found himself being constantly pursued by strange, demented figures that he believed were intent on dragging him back there. At first he thought they were just in his mind but he’d since learned that they were real enough to interact with physical objects, including himself. The beings would often appear to him as normal human beings at first, concerned doctors and such, who claimed to only want to “help” him, but then their faces would change when no one else was around, becoming deformed in many unnatural ways. Trevor looked down at the chains binding him to the chair and remembered being strapped down to the operating tables in the facility as a few tears dripped down his small, pale face.

At least an hour had gone by since he had first awakened in the strange place and still no one had come. He was sitting up straight in the chair, cocking his head a bit in different directions periodically, listening intently for any noise outside the room, but there was none that he could detect so far. The chains rustled as he slumped back into the chair with another sigh. There was no clock anywhere in the room that he could see so he had no idea exactly what time it was, he only had the vague sense that it was probably still dark outside.

Another hour or so went by and still nothing. The bright light overhead was becoming an irritant and he wished that there was some way he could turn it off, at least, but there wasn’t as far as he could tell. There were no substantial objects anywhere on the floor in his vicinity or anywhere in the room for that matter that would be of any use to him at all. He was simply trapped here, completely helpless and at the mercy of whoever…or whatever…had taken him from his home and imprisoned him in this chair. A chill ran up his spine has he tried to remember exactly what had happened.

It was dark outside and Trevor was inside his apartment in the living room and none of the lights were turned on. He was sitting on the couch in front of the TV, not really watching anything in particular since there was nothing on that held any particular interest for him at the time, but he left it on anyway. He stared blankly at the screen while a news brief reported a recent crime situation that was thwarted by Superman and flashed some video clips of his heroic antics. Rellek was not there. He was…out. Trevor didn’t mind being alone. He remembered that he had begun to feel very tired and that he was probably drifting off to sleep when he had heard a noise, one that alarmed him. At first he thought maybe Rellek had come back early but then he realized that was not the case since he did not sense the…the heavy darkness…a very noticeable change in the quality of the air that always accompanied the strange being’s presence whenever he was nearby. Trevor’s first encounters with Rellek had been very uncomfortable ones since he had tended to become somewhat incapacitated just by his mere vicinity alone, due to having had much difficulty breathing the surrounding air until his lungs had finally managed to accommodate themselves after repeated exposures of increased durations over time, however it still possessed a very strong distinction to him even though he had become accustomed to it. So it was definitely someone else, there was no question about it. Someone…or something….other than Rellek was in the house…and that was bad. Trevor remembered shutting off the TV with the remote and then sitting up with his knees on the couch facing towards the back wall, staring at the open doorway towards his right behind the couch while listening carefully for more noises and being ready to move very quickly of anyone should happen to come into the room where he was. He wasn’t sure exactly what he would do or where he would go, so he decided to wait and see what, if anything, would happen before taking any kind of action. He had started to think that maybe it was nothing…maybe it was just his imagination…or maybe it was just some animal that had gotten in, a stray dog perhaps…he wasn’t too terribly afraid of dogs. People scared him a lot more. But then someone did come through the doorway and before Trevor had even the chance to react he was grabbed by a very strong hand and then knocked unconscious.

Trevor concentrated on the figure in his memory that had attacked him. He tried to remember what it looked like. All he could remember was that it was like a person, a man. A tall man who was a lot bigger and stronger than him. And faster too, which surprised him since although he was not very strong Trevor did have quite exceptional reflexes of his own, and whoever it was had been able to traverse the at least six or so feet between the door and the couch where he had been sitting and take him out before he had even thought of reacting in any way. So…whoever it was…probably wasn’t human, at least not exactly, although it did look like one. Try as he may Trevor could not remember the features of the man’s face at all. It had probably been a bit too dark despite his excellent night vision and the man had moved so quickly that is was possible that even Trevor’s sharp mind hadn’t the time to record the image of his assailant’s face before he was knocked out. Whoever this "man" was, he meant business, and Trevor felt that if the man had wanted to kill him he could have easily done so...but hadn't. This made him even more uneasy. He was also starting to worry about Rellek…how he was going to react to his absence. Trevor knew that he was not allowed to leave the house when he was gone. He had done so in the past and had been reprimanded for it. He knew that Rellek would be angry…and Trevor did not like it when Rellek was angry. Rellek would be angry at him or angry at the person who had taken him or maybe both. And Trevor knew better than anyone else just how dangerous Rellek was, especially when he was angry. He started to wonder if his captor even knew about Rellek…or perhaps his unwitting contact with the dangerous entity had something to do with why he was taken. He could not be sure until his captor decided to show up and tell him the reason.
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Vice Grip