Mad Max Villains

Mad Max Villains

You see! There is no escape! The Humungus Rules the Wasteland!

Chapter Sixteen

Killing Machine

(Words & Music by: Tipton, Halford & Downing)

I never give no answers, I never tell no lies
I never walk a straight line so I never get surprised
I don't ask no favors so I won't get abused
I learned to win when I was young
So I'm never ever gonna lose

I do what I do 'cos I can't do nothing better
You do what you do, just defendin' yourself

I never ask no questions, I never speak my mind
I always found that silence helps to keep me and my kind alive
I take care of business, It takes care of me
I look after myself and do it well
'cause somebody's always looking for me
~~~

They walked down the hall of the defense building but instead of going upstairs, they remained on the main floor. A guard led the way and another brought up the rear with Wez in the middle. When they stopped at a door, they were met by two more guards who stood on each side of the entrance.

"The civilian has put in a request for General Manning," the lead guard announced.

"Enter," the other guard replied.

The doors opened and they stepped into the outer-office. A pretty, brunette boy was on duty, maybe no more than eighteen . He sat behind a desk and looked to be going over some paper work.

"Maybe I help you?" the boy asked, glancing up.

"A request was put in this morning. Citizen AU301335 wishes to apply for a position with defense," the lead guard piped up.

"One moment," the boy said, standing. "I shall check with General Manning." He vacated the reception area and slipped behind two doors.

The two guards now stood on each side of Wez. Just then Vashta entered the reception area. He ignored everyone and made a beeline to Iason's office.

So Wez let his thoughts drift upstairs while he waited. He wondered if the Golden Youth was awake and what his mate was doing at this moment. Two weeks, for over two weeks and two days he'd been separated from his lover. And never was his agitation and temper so great. It was taking every ounce of self-will he possessed to tolerate being locked up in this jail. And the nights were even worse since he didn't have his mate laying underneath him.

Never before did he miss, long and ache for someone until he met the Golden Youth. Not since he thought his mate to be dead did he feel this kind of loneliness. And instead of a dimension separating them, this time they were kept apart by cement walls and a cunning minx.

Just then the boy appeared and took a seat back at the desk.

"He may come with me," Vashta announced. He turned back on his heel and reentered the office.

The guard motioned to Wez and he stepped forward, following Vashta inside. The minx sat behind a desk, puffing on a cigarette and sipping coffee.

"Leave us," Iason announced. "This won't take long. Have my slave draw us a bath. I'll see you upstairs."

Vashta nodded his head. "As you wish, General Manning." He turned then, ensuring to close the doors behind him.

Wez stood, carefully taking in the office that had once been occupied by a former administrator when the city used to be a prison. The same furniture was used that happened to be an eclectic mix of contemporary and late 70's pieces. He noted the many whips locked away in a case that hung on the cement wall. Then he heard the gun unsheathe from the holster.

Iason cocked the trigger, smirking. "Have a seat, Alex. We won't be disturbed." Then his hand gestured to the table between the two chairs facing the desk. "Coffee? Fruit? Some pastry?"

Wez grunted, shaking his head. "Why the gun? So many guards and you still fear me."

Iason giggled as he planted his one boot on the desk, relaxing back in the chair. "Not fear, Alex. Let's just say I'm not foolish enough to underestimate my opponent and a wise man always proceeds with the utmost caution.

"Unlike Ramses, I do not rely on guards to defend me. That requires having total confidence in others. And I'm not foolish or dumb enough to trust someone else when it comes to my life. I see to my own self-defense."

"So you say you not trust your husband?" Wez asked.

Iason's eyes narrowed. "I see it's going to be this sort of conversation again, bait and antagonize. Well, I must inform you that my husband knows I am quite capable of fending for myself. I ask for his loyalty and big cock, nothing more.

"I'm not helpless like your precious Golden Youth. Hmm, and if I recall correctly, when you did toss me out of your bed, it's because I refused to be a yes lover since you can't handle a man with spunk and spirit. You need someone subservient since you cannot tame an independent bitch."

"No, was about loyalty and I not believe you are loyal to your husband," Wez replied as he took a seat. "Like I say before, you only loyal to yourself."

"That's how one stays alive, big guy," Iason smugly stated as he took a sip of his coffee. "I asked Vashta for his loyalty, but do you really think I'm foolish enough to put all my faith into one person? I hardly think so. I've stayed alive all these years because I made sure and looked after number one.

"And now who is in a compromising position, may I ask?" he teased, the evergreen eyes flashing. "You are, m'dear. Why? Because you let yourself foolishly fall in love and that makes you weak. If you weren't stupid enough to love your precious Golden Youth, we would not be sitting here having this conversation.

"So I do believe you came out the loser. Only a fool would be gullible and stupid enough to hand their heart and soul over to another."

"I not think so," Wez growled. "A loyal mate makes one stronger."

"Stronger?" Iason sputtered and then burst out laughing. "Yeah, you're really strong thanks to the whore. So strong that you are now forced to be my bitch! You are the one bent over this time getting a good fuck up the ass, you imbecile. You have no choice but to do what I say since I hold the trump card. Or should I say, your Golden Youth."

Wez's eyes narrowed with hate. God, he forgot how the minx's big mouth could always push his buttons. "Yea, again you show how weak you are. Need me to come in and help you. Can't take care of it on your own. Always have to call on me for help."

Iason just giggled. "I told you once before, I know my strengths and weaknesses, Alex. And I know I need you to accomplish this goal. So don't think I'm gonna bite at the bait this time."

"I could get off chair right now, toss you on desk and fuck you," Wez growled, "and you would gladly spread your legs."

"Aw, and what about the Golden Youth?" Iason mocked. "I think if I dropped my pants, your whore would be devastated. And I really don't have an inkling to knock boots with you again. I need your muscles and nothing more."

"Is a point I make," Wez snorted. "I not say I gonna fuck you, but I could if I wanted to. You have obedient husband, but you want someone strong, someone who can master you."

"Honey, there isn't a man alive on this earth capable of taming me," Iason coolly noted. "And I have no desire to reside under someone's thumb.

"Now, enough of this discussion since it will get us nowhere. I have to prepare you for your bought with my guards tomorrow morning," Iason said as he sat up in the chair.

"Always change conversation," Wez grunted, shaking his head in disgust.

Iason rolled his eyes. "I see, you want to speak about how you're gonna fuck me? Hmm, this leads me to believe you still want to crawl into my bed."

Wez scowled. "You know I finished with you when you leave me in prison, bitch."

"Okay, it's obvious you're still smarting that I bested you," Iason noted with a sly grin. "And I bested you again since you're here. And I also recall when we met up at that big ravine . . . the look on your face, frozen in your spot, staring at me through your binoculars - yes, you wanted me then, baby. It's why you chased me on your motorcycle.

"You never forgot about me, did you, Alex? I betcha you couldn't find another mount who could give you the sex I gave you. Well, sweetheart, you know I'm a whore at heart. My job is to deliver sex so damn good, a man never forgets, and that's how a prostitute makes money. We give 'em what their docile lovers cannot deliver.

"It's what made many a man haunt the red light districts. How pathetic those imbeciles were, sporting wedding bands, professing how much they loved their spouses and yet, they were willing to fork over cash to have me give them what their dirty little minds really needed.

"And I'm betting you never experienced that same kind of hot sex after I kicked you to the curb. I bet even your precious Golden Youth isn't capable of making you feel what I gave you between the sheets."

"Wrong," Wez grunted. "And that's why you take him hostage. You not like I gave my mate what you always wanted from me. Admit it."

"If you're speaking about your heart, don't flatter yourself, honey," Iason replied as he lit a cigarette. "Love was never high on my list of priorities. Wealth is. Power is. Killing is. Sex is. But love . . . sorry, I'm not capable of love.

"It's what makes me more powerful than you, Alex. Just call us two of a kind: both loners, both sadistic, both cunning, both stealth, both independent, both incapable of any compassionate feelings towards our fellow men.

"Well, we were two of a kind until you let yourself get ass-whipped.

"And yes, if you didn't let yourself grow soft, if you didn't hand me over to that guard and order me to fuck him, we would have made a great team. A very great team."

"So you say it did bother you?" Wez snarled. "I knew it."

Iason smiled. "Yeah, it did, big guy. But one gets over disappointment rather quickly when one knows all men have an agenda. And I expected no less from you. I was but a means out for you and nothing more. So that's why I let you rot in prison." Now he gave a mocking giggle.

"Shall we move on now?" he asked. "I do have a busy schedule today. And I think both of us would like this conversation to cease since it's apparent we can barely tolerate one another's company."

"I still scare the minx," Wez snarled and then he gave a hissy laugh.

"I think I lost track of how many times I told you not to flatter yourself," Iason icily replied. He then stood, aiming the gun between those dark eyes. "I told you once to never second-guess me. I said I would kill you if need be. And I will. So don't ever say I fear you. Because I don't. I'm the only man in this wasteland who doesn't cower or back off when you raise that mighty fist. And it pisses you off, doesn't it? Even your Golden Youth fears you, Alex. I bet you've done your share of cuffing him around and I can tell you how he reacted: he cowered in fear. Whereas, I never did and never will.

"I am the only man who has never submitted to you."

Iason took a seat back in the chair, giggling. "Rook takes Knight. Now let's put aside our silly game of chess and talk about real matters. I'll keep the game board warm and we'll continue this battle when business is taken care of.

"I'm going to send Vashta and my three best guards to scout the Great City tomorrow morning. I am making this very easy for you since you'll be up against second raters. Furthermore, I will tell you right now they will only have swords and lances. So think good and hard on how you're going to disarm and kill them. And to ensure you're properly motivated, your precious Golden Youth will be present.

"So don't fuck it up," Iason hissed. "You'd better win, Alex. Because if you lose, I will rape, torture and kill your blond bitch." Then he waved his hand in a dismissing manner. "Rhen, tell the guards to come and get this piece of scum and show him back to his cell."

*****

"Get up," Iason ordered in a cold voice. "Your big, brave stud is going to test his skill this morning by battling three of my guards."

The Golden Youth rolled over. The fear ran up his spine upon hearing that announcement but he shrugged off any doubts. He must have total faith in the master. So he reached for the robe and slid the garment around his shoulders and knotted the belt. Then he finally pushed the covers aside and swung his long legs over the bed.

"So modest you are," Iason mocked, stepping forward, slowly moving one leg in front of the other. "But kindly remember who your master is now. And it sure isn't the big oaf. So if I want to have a look at your dick, I will."

The Golden Youth flushed, quickly looking away.

"Stand up," Iason hissed.

So the youth stood, chin up and eyes locked on the cement wall.

Iason giggled. "You are just so cute. God, I can't get over what a subservient bitch you are. Even when the big oaf isn't present, you still follow his orders.

"Did he tell you to be brave? Did he tell you not to show any fear? Did he tell you to handle your captivity with grace and dignity?"

Silence.

"I said answer me," Iason spat out.

The Golden Youth turned his head and gazed into those slanting, evergreen eyes. "No, my master did not tell me how to conduct myself."

"I see, you learned this all on your own," Iason mocked as he took another step forward. He traced one long finger down the youth's face. "Well, it's nice to see you use your brain even when the ox isn't around."

The youth flinched and took a step back.

"Aw, are you afraid of me?" Iason purred. Then he giggled. "Well, you should be. If you thought your master was a sadistic bastard, well, meet the bitch who spawned many a devil."

The youth said nothing and just stared straight ahead.

"So tell me about your captivity," Iason taunted as he moved once more and stood in front of the youth. "I bet you resisted at first and then gave in. Bitches like you always do. It never takes much to make a submissive whore like yourself buckle."

The Golden Youth's jaw tightened. God, he couldn't believe the master mounted this hellcat. Never did he meet someone so arrogant in his life. All this whore did was goad, bait and antagonize. "I never resisted," he softly replied. "He wanted me so I let him have me."

"Well, now that I'm your new master, does this mean you're gonna drop your pants, bend over and let me ram my dick up your ass?" Iason said with a smirk.

The youth's eyes narrowed and he cast the minx a dirty look. "No. You're not my master. You can keep telling me you are, but in my heart I only have one. And I will only serve one."

Iason drew back his leather jacket, running his finger along the quirt. "Perhaps this will change your mind? Would you call me master then?"

The youth eyed the whip and his lower lip slightly trembled. Quickly, he looked away, slightly shaking. Just the thought of feeling the leather strap across his back made the sweat break out under his arms and bead along his forehead. "If it's pain you want from me, we both know you'll get it. If it's tears you desire, you'll have those too. If it's my screams you demand, all you have to do is listen. To hear me beg for mercy, it's yours. But I will never refer to you as my master."

"You silly bitch," Iason spat out in disgust.

The youth heard the snap. His eyes locked to the window when he heard the whistle of leather. Then he screamed when he felt the sting of the quirt on his leg. Oh God, the pain was immense. He felt as if someone burned his flesh. He gasped, slightly holding his leg as he bit his lower lip. Now he sat back on the bed, still trying to comfort himself and suck in the immense pain.

He looked up then, the hate filling his soul as he gazed at Iason. "What have I ever done to you?" he cried out. "What have I ever done to deserve this?" Then his anger got the better of him and he lunged at the whore, determined to get that quirt and lash the bitch with it. Let the hussy find out first hand what the sting of the quirt felt like.

The youth cried out when he again felt the lash across his skin, this time on his chest. For a second he lost his footing and he fell against the bed.

"Don't try me, whore," Iason hissed through narrowed eyes. "I can easily cut you to pieces right now without you ever retaliating." He walked to the bed, pressing his palms deep into the mattress as he gazed down at the youth, their faces only inches apart. "Like I said, your master is a saint compared to me. And it's me who you should be obeying since I hold your life in my hands. And I can drag out torture, torture that will make you beg for a quick death."

"And you would like that, wouldn't you?" the Golden Youth said, his voice filled with hate as his sapphire blue eyes flashed.

"Yes, I would. Torture makes me horny," Iason simply replied.

The youth looked away. No soul. Not a speck of humanity. He was dealing with a devil, the devil's minion. Such beauty the hellcat possessed but underneath the facade lurked something so ugly, so hideous, he could not even conjure up a word for what the minx represented.

"Spread your legs. It's time I proved who is your master."

Cold, the voice was so cold and the youth shuddered. He gazed into those evergreen eyes that reminded him of stone gems, not an ounce of warmth lurking in those crystal jewels.

"I love whipping someone I fuck," Iason purred as he removed his jacket and the garment fell to the floor. "Fuck and then whip to death."

"He's going to kill Ramses and then you'll kill him," the youth whispered as he looked to the wall. "So what do you want from me? Why not just kill me when you kill my master?"

"Because I'm going to prove how easily you'll accept another master. You're not a quitter, Golden Youth. It's why you survived all this time. It's why you love a man who cruelly murdered your own kin. It's why you forgive him when he beats you. It's why you turn a blind eye when he tortures and murders. It's why you quietly accept the gifts he scavenges and presents to you, even though you know those treasures come with a big price: someone else's innocent life. And once again, you will submit and adapt.

"Your master is no better than me, bitch," Iason snarled. "You're sleeping with Satan, you whore! You sold your soul to live!"

"No, you're wrong," the youth softly replied, shaking his head. "When the master took me captive, he treated me with tenderness and showed me kindness. Yes, when he spotted me playing in the sand, he desired to keep me for himself. And he took me by using the only means he knew of: murdering my mother and uncle.

"He had no comprehension that he could have knocked on the door, spoke with my kin and asked if he could visit with me. Society made him into the maniac I first encountered, along with his upbringing and all that he suffered. From the very beginning he was stripped of his humanity, of all feelings that separates us from the animals.

"But after being with me for three years, he has learned so much. And although my master will never truly be human, at least through the love and loyalty I show him, the tenderness and care I give him - he's not an animal any longer.

"But as for you? You'll never understand the power of what love can do. And I feel so sorry for Vashta since he's a wonderful man who happens to love someone who is beyond help. You are the work of the devil!"

Iason burst out laughing as he began slowly clapping his hands. "Very nice speech, beautiful one. Very lovely. I suppose I should try and dredge up some tears so your words are for naught."

The Golden Youth looked away in disgust, not at all surprised what he said went right over the bitch's head. And he didn't flinch when he heard the zipper to those leather pants lower. He gazed at the ceiling when he felt the soft lips press against his cheek as the long fingers ran through his hair. Now the free hand grasped at his belt and he felt the knot give way as the robe parted.

"Hmm, so beautiful you are," Iason purred as he gazed at the silken, bare flesh. "So lovely. Your name shouldn't be Golden Youth. It should be Jewel of the Wasteland.

"And I'm rather looking forward to having such a sweet, humane, gentle man as my bitch."

"You are married," the youth pointed out. "What would Vashta think of this?"

"Hon, he knows it's my right as a master to mount my slave," he sassily replied. "I'm taking ownership. No longer will you only know Alex's touch."

So the youth stared back up at the ceiling when he felt those delicate hands run along his flesh. Soft lips began lavishing his mouth with sensual kisses as the knee nudged his legs apart.

"Hmm, so docile you are," Iason cooed as he continued to explore the youth's neck with his mouth. "Just lay back and take it, don't you?"

"Do I have a choice?" the youth bitterly replied. "If I try and run, I know you will whip me. And if I manage to escape, where would I hide? I don't know where my master is and you know I will not leave without him."

"Well, we'll see if Alex still wants you after I tell him he's not the only man who's sampled your charms," Iason teased.

"You would, wouldn't you?" the youth spat out in disgust. Oh God, never did he feel this kind of hate. The bitch thought to turn the master against him. The minx was only fucking him so the slut could brag to the master about this incident afterwards, hoping Wez would cast him aside since it was his lover whom this hellcat truly wanted.

"I understand what this is all about now," the youth hissed. "I overheard your conversation when we were at camp. You can't stand the fact my master gave me what you desired most from him: his love. When you were in prison together, he treated you how an animal treats its mate. You wanted to find humanity in him so he would care. You wanted him to care. But he never did. And you hate me for capturing what you desired above all else.

"You can't stand the fact your beauty could not sway him. But mine did. You failed, Iason. And your pitiful plan will not work. You can run to my master and tell him we had sex but he'll know you raped me and he would never hold something I can't control against me. Why? Because he loves me. So go ahead, try and seduce him, but you will fail because it's me he wants, not you!"

The youth wasn't surprised when the minx rose off of him and then came the lash across his chest. He curled up, gasping in pain. Over and over the lash came down, burning deep into his flesh. The tears flowed from his eyes as he tried to fight off the immense pain coiling through his body as the end of the quirt snapped at his skin. He just wanted to beg the bitch to please stop. Over and over the whip came down. God, when would the whore cease this attack? He didn't know how much more he could take. Again and again the quirt struck his skin.

"Stop!" the youth cried out. "Please stop!"

The whipping ceased.

Deep sobs came from the youth's throat as he held his chest and arms. His fingers were wet from the blood seeping out of the gashes. His eyes burned from the rainfall of tears and his throat ached as the cries continued to escape from his mouth.

Then he shrieked when he felt the thick manhood enter his rear end roughly. Oh God, he couldn't stand all this pain. He clamped his teeth down on the fur. Savagely, the erect penis slammed into his portal and he wondered if he'd be torn in two.

"Bitch," Iason screamed. "You'll never dare back talk me again. Will you?"

The youth continued to whimper into the fur.

"I said answer me!" Iason shouted as he grabbed the quirt and lashed the delicate buttocks.

"No!"

"Who is master, whore?" Iason then yanked on the golden strands, tugging hard as he dug his nails into the gentle scalp.

The youth again screamed. Oh God, the pain wouldn't stop. His chest was on fire. He swore someone dumped hot coals on his buttocks and his insides were killing him from the thick weapon mercilessly searing him. "You are master."

His face was buried deep into the fur as the hard weapon continued to pound roughly into his hole. He didn't know how much more pain he could take. Over and over the thick shaft continued to plunge deeply into him with wounding thrusts.

Then all ceased. The Golden Youth groaned when he was rolled over. Fingers still gripped his hair. Now his mouth was being forced open.

"Take it, bitch!" Iason shouted.

The youth whimpered when he felt the seed splattering against his lips and flowing into his mouth.

"Swallow, whore!"

The youth swallowed the salty semen. Then he was released and he fell back into the furs, curling his delicate body tightly as he tried to find a way to shake off the pain. The tears still flowed from his eyes as the sobs came deep from his throat. Since his pain was so great, he didn't even notice the cum seeping along his lips as he rolled over, still helplessly crying.

"Clean him up," Iason spat out as he zipped up his pants and stepped into the hall. "Dress his wounds, bathe him and clothe him.

"I want the golden slut ready in one hour or there will be hell to pay!"

The two slave girls hurried into the bedroom.

*****

Rhen was dressed from head to toe in black. He wasn't sure what happened, but he knew his disguise had something to do with the general's captive. His orders had been clear: sit and watch the battle. Now he wondered what shape the Golden Youth was in why he had to impersonate the delicate blond.

Iason puffed on a cigarette, flanked by two guards. He cocked his brow since many civilians had shown up to watch the battle.

Just then the doors to the hall opened and the three guards entered: Cajun, Thor and Mercury. All three wore their battle uniforms that consisted of steel helmets, chest armor and leggings. Then the other door opened and Wez stepped forward, adorned in his civilian clothing.

Iason took another drag off the smoke, his lips curling into a smug smile. He knew who would walk away the winner. Then he dropped the cigarette and stood, snuffing out the smoke with the heel of his boot.

"All rise," he called out.

The civilians all rose from their seats.

"There are no rules. This is a fight to the death. And I'm sure everyone's eager to have this battle commence. So you may begin," Iason smugly announced. Then he took a seat.

Wez focused on the three guards, ignoring the figure draped in black, knowing it was his Golden Youth. He kept his eyes trained on Cajun, Thor and Mercury. He made no move to attack. Instead, he waited. All he needed to do was disarm one so he'd have a weapon.

It was Cajun who stepped forward. He raised his sword in the air, taking aim.

Wez carefully watched the sharp blade while also making note where the other two guards were positioned. From his peripheral vision, he could see Thor barreling down from his left. So he quickly turned, raising his leg as he swiftly moved his foot under Thor's legs. The guard fell to the ground. And while he was busy with Thor, Cajun was already in full attack, along with Mercury.

Wez was locked against Cajun's chest and the sword was pressed against his neck as the big guard used all that brute strength to try and slit his throat. He raised his leg and kicked out at Mercury. Then he bent at the waist and flipped Cajun over his back. Then he growled when he felt Thor's sword strike his backside. He shrugged off the pain and lunged for Cajun's lance. Then he pivoted and faced Thor. Just then Mercury rushed him from the back and Wez ducked.

The crowd cheered when Mercury ran his own blade into Thor's belly.

Wez used that time to send the lance into Mercury's back and he gave another growl when he felt Cajun's blade cut into his arm. He whipped around, yanking the lance out of Mercury's stomach as he again ducked and pivoted. Then he scooped up the fallen sword, facing Cajun.

"Mighty Wez! Mighty Wez!" Glory Rider hollered, motioning at the crowd to cheer.

Racer Boy, Mutt, Two Chins, Biff and Leather Face also joined in. "Mighty Wez! Mighty Wez!"

And the civilians also began to chant, in awe over the defender's strength, speed and agility.

All that could be heard was the clanking of swords as Wez and Cajun battled back and forth, trying to disarm one another.

Over and over Wez sent his sword down on his opponent's steel blade. He could tell Cajun was beginning to tire. Yet, his own energy was immense. The hunger was clawing up inside of him, the familiar thirst for blood.

"See death," Wez growled with a maniacal gleam in his eye. "See death!"

Just then a very wounded Mercury managed to stand, fighting for coherence. Wez whipped around and swung the heavy blade, decapitating the guard.

The crowed cheered when they watched the head roll across the floor.

"Your turn now!" Wez shouted and he gave a hissy laugh. "Die!"

He charged ahead as Cajun once again raised the sword.

Wez gave another laugh as he sent the sword down on Cajun's foot. The guard hollered and then backed up, losing his toes in the process. Again Wez raised his blade just as Cajun raised his own.

Steel on steel met as the clanking of iron echoed through the hall.

"Rahahaha!" Wez licked hips lips, his eyes wide as he again swung the blade, this time catching Cajun's gut.

The crowd cheered again when they watched the blood gush out.

Then Wez ran at full force. He leapt through the air, bringing his legs and arms together as he somersaulted over the guard, landing on the other side. Then he raised the blade and sliced through Cajun's mid-section.

The crowd again cheered when they watched the torso fall to the left while the bottom half fell to the right.

But Wez didn't stop. He hurried back to Thor, making sure the guard was dead as he sent the lance over and over into the man's belly.

Just then Ramses entered the building with his ten bodyguards. "Cease," he called out in his deep voice.

Wez spun around, once again licking his lips as he eyed the big giant. "Kill all ten!" he hollered as he started for one of the bodyguards.

The crowd roared their approval when they watched Wez decapitate the one guard while disarming another.

"I said cease!" Ramses raised his dart gun and fired.

Wez gave a grunt, shrugging off the pain as he locked eyes with another guard.

Again Ramses fired.

Now the juice in those darts began taking effect. Wez could feel himself slowly drifting into unconsciousness. He crashed to the floor.

Ramses glanced to Iason. He was impressed. Who the hell was this sadistic maniac?

"To my quarters," Ramses barked, gazing at his general. "As for him, take the barbarian to the defense quarters," he announced, gazing down at Wez. Then he turned and left the hall.

*****

They were in Admiral Ramses quarters. The big man sat behind the desk while Iason was seated in the chair facing the bold leader.

"Skill, much skill he possesses," Ramses said in his deep, authoritative voice. "With proper training, he has the potential to be our most powerful guard. And after he's proven his loyalty, I would like to see him promoted to captain of my personal bodyguards."

Iason smiled. He couldn't have asked for a better opportunity. Upon his recommendation, Wez would soon have close contact with the very man he wanted dead. "As you wish, Admiral," he replied.

"That is all," Ramses said in a dismissing voice.

So Iason rose from the chair and started to walk away.

"General," Ramses called out.

Slowly, Iason turned.

"Good job unearthing this man. You never fail me. Always, your top priority is overseeing the well-being of this city through strong guards, allowing the right individuals to enter who can contribute to the growth of this community and anticipating my every want and need.

"I knew from the first day we met you would never fail me," Ramses noted. "You may now leave."

"Thank you, Admiral," Iason replied as he turned on his heel.

Oh yeah, he now had the loser in his pocket, along with the big oaf. He almost wanted to giggle as he strolled down the hall. Yes, all it took was brains to bring down two strong, powerful men. And he was still amused with the torture he inflicted on the Golden Youth this morning. Such pleasure he received in breaking the spirit of Wez's most prized possession.

Nothing would stop him now.

Next Page - Chapter Seventeen

Note: "Mad Max" is a trademark and copyright of Kennedy-Miller Entertainment/Warner Bros. George Miller, Byron Kennedy and Terry Hayes (Kennedy Miller Entertainment/ Warner Bros.) hold copyright to the Mad Max Trilogy.
This story is created for fan fiction purposes only. Some dialogue was taken from the script to keep this tale true to the original movie.

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