PART 1

OBI-WAN'S POV

It had been one wrong move, one faulted tread of booted feet and like all puzzles doomed to fail with the pieces lost to oblivion, the mission had fallen apart. It had only been a ruse, a risk-ridden yet tactful endeavour to divert attention from the charing teal sphere of Christophsis in hopes of veering the battle to a higher, almost unreachable ground. Yet they had undermined their enemy's perception and underestimated their awareness.

That was the reason Obi-wan stood stoically within the control centre of the Resolute, peering through the vortex of obsidian nothingness, a trail of lapis lazuli stardust the remnants of Grievous's Star Destroyer, the Recusant. He felt devoid of all physical feeling, numb, clutching at the scruff of Ahsoka's shirt to prevent the distraught youth from leaping into her Star-Fighter to begin a fruitless chase after her Master that not even an experienced Space Navigator could possibly decipher.

He too longed to madly search for his dear friend, yet instead he inhaled a quavering breath, purging himself of the chill riddling his soul with the assistance of the Force. He would rescue Anakin; that was a promise he dared not break. Yet where Anakin might be within this very heartbeat was something that no one knew; and the thought concerned Obi-wan more than he wished to admit.

Just hold on, Anakin... Just hold on...

XXX

A Month Passes

ANAKIN'S POV

The Lightsabre traced down Anakin's side, it's sweltering scarlet trail a blurred flame within his profusely watering sight, its heat seething over the brutally cleaved flesh with the intensity of a moiling, bubbling pool of lava, so precarious and slow that it was pure agony to endure. Even with his eyes squeezed shut against the vial sensation, he could not block out the visions, the memories, the feelings that had been plastered to the skin behind his eyelids, tormenting him with each second he dared to blink. He was immobilised by the energy-fields fastened around his wrists and ankles, suspending his frail being in the centre of the shadowy cell, unable to hide from the mechanical monsters and soulless demons that seemed to resound to no end in this room, ravishing his body in hopes he would divulge information.

Information he could no longer recall...because of the drug...

The drug that was injected senselessly into his bloodstream, any moment when unconsciousness threatened to overwhelm him, when exhaustion became too enticing to ignore. An infestation of thousands of coiling serpents released into his veins, travelling through his arteries until they reach his heart, brain, stomach and lungs. His body would convulse incoherently against his restraints, his sanity evading him, his heart pulsating so frantically that he was certain that he would die from the assault that struck ceaselessly from within. All hopes of sleep were stolen, his reality morphing into a delirious mania of waking nightmares, toying him with psychotic afflictions that he couldn't control.

Anakin was gnawing on his tongue to prevent the shrieks from spilling over his lips, acidic blood and strangled sobs lodged within his throat, suffocating him from within. No thoughts penetrated through the acrid blanket of pain-ridden fog that hammered against his brain, the fringe of his perception shrinking with the darkness rapidly honing in. A constant, ticking throb overtook every cell within his body, resonating from his head, chest, stomach, even to the very tip of his toes.

The Force had been shredded from his grasp, as was his senses, as was his freedom to his own body. He'd been abandoned to the dark...

"Tell me the bases of the Republic supply lines," hissed a voice that caused a shiver of dread to slither down his spin. Dooku. "And I promise to deliver a painless end to your suffering..."

Anakin longed to release the tears bubbling just beneath his eyelids, with his mind a fractured, infected refuge where fog and darkness only resides, he had no idea how to reply to the question, even if he'd wanted to.

Squinting against the anguish that tore at every nerve-ending within his person, he gasped a haggard reply. "I...can't!"

Anakin anticipated the infuriated slash and barely swallowed his scream as the red blaze swiped jarringly along his abdomen, the tip melting the flesh beneath its merciless claw, adding to the countless slashes that coated his slender stomach and ribcage. Through his own hammering blood, he heard Dooku's nauseating voice echo commandingly, his words filtering through the tumult of his brain.

"If you do not answer soon, Skywalker, than I will have to find a much crueler fate for your demise. It's becoming clear that you may not actually know the truth. Unfortunate, really, because once I'm done with you, you'll wish you had of known."

All the blood remaining in his withering form seemed to trickle away through the bottom of his heels. The words reverberated over and over within his battered skull, chilling his insides with horror. Before he could ponder them however, his icy fear was replaced with a maelstrom of terror as a sharp, pointed, steely implement held by a separatist surgeon droid sidled cautiously into his faltering level of vision.

A whimper broke from his mouth. Not again, he moaned inwardly. Please, no...

Anakin's correlating orbs expanded to the size of saucers as panic gushed into his being, his limbs trembling vigorously as he pitifully yanked at his bindings, aware gut-wrenchingly that his futile attempts were pointless. With his chance to escape thwarted by his immobility, the droid placed the tip of the hypo to his throat and pressed the plunger. The moment the foul liquid sizzled into his veins, it was like he'd been injected with an overdose of caffeine and adrenaline, a gurgling toxic tar that simmered just beneath the barricades of his skin, causing his vision to warp and billow as though the very fabric of the room had become an illusion. His heart began to pummel so violently against his ribcage that agony overwhelmed almost every fibre of his body, his strangulated sobs finally tumbling from his lips as uncontrollable tears streamed from his eyes.

He was done with this agony. He was done with this sleeplessness. He just wanted the end.

When would he be over? When would this end?...

XXX

His sight was clouded with scarlet...darkness...black...

Eyes...multiple pairs...

Figures...nameless...circling him...observing him like ravenous vultures...

The ground was lurching...teetering hazardously where he was lying...the sickness overtaking every cell...draining him of all life...

Iron shackles slice at his wrists and ankles...containing him in motionlessness...

Is this real? Or is this the drug? The dense poison still churning inside him...reeking havoc within...

Voices spoke...deadened and almost silenced within his destructive illness...the words almost fathomless...

"...gift to you...Jedi...if...join...Separatist Alliance..."

"...such fine-stock...fair price..."

"...he...serve..."

"...a perfect...slave...needs...processing..."

"...in your hands..."

The voices ceased to exist as did all sound...a ringing...buzzing hum...piercing his brain...

A figure stepped out from the crimson haze...disappearing from sight forever...only to be replaced by several more...towering...threatening...

This can't be real...this can't be...

Hands tore at him harshly...yanking his almost unyielding form across rough earth...a rag doll...unable to retaliate...

A black room...

A prick jabbing into the pulse of his neck...numbing him completely...

Was he going crazy?... Had he lost his sanity?...

No answer came...only sweet unconsciousness...

XXX

Hey guys!

So finally, here is my next story! I decided to split the story into three parts, just because the story is quite long. Anakin's capture wasn't meant to be as long or as interesting as this, but I got this really good idea to add the drug into the mix.

Thank you guys for reading!

Heartelyse