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Postcards from Hell

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This story is No. 2 in the series "Rebuilding". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: And JT (mini-Jack) thought going back to high school was hell. Takes place during chapter four of "Rebuilding." DARK.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Stargate > Buffy-Centered(Current Donor)RudesMomFR15124,43315728,38822 Feb 093 Aug 10No

Day One

Chapter 1: Day One

JT woke up lying face down. The left side of his face rested on something cold and rough, concrete, maybe, or stone.

Okay, what ran over him? Jay took a silent inventory of body parts. Everything seemed to still be attached, although he wasn't sure if that was a good thing. His body hadn't felt this abused in long time. Actually this body had never felt this bad before, not even when it was dying.

He peered through his barely opened eyelids trying to figure out where the hell he was. The lighting was poor, but not poor enough to disguise his location. He was in a cell. Great. He closed his eyes.

The last thing he remembered was walking through Colorado Springs. It had been early in the day, not yet noon he thought. He had gone into a building, then nothing. They must have grabbed him there. But who were they?

He opened his eyes again, hoping for clues. Wherever he was, it wasn't new construction or a makeshift holding cell. The smells confirmed it. This place was old and well used. If the rogue branch of the NID had snatched him, they had probably taken him out of the country. On the other hand, the place kind of reminded him of Sokar's little dungeon of horrors on Netu. Had a Goa'uld managed to find him? Please let it not be Ba'al, he thought. There was no way he could survive another round with the sadistic System Lord.

JT slowly rolled over and sat up, his muscles screaming in protest. He realized that he was not alone. Five other people occupied his cell. Not one of them made a sound or even paid any attention to him although four were awake. The fifth was dead, propped up in a corner. Well, he thought, that helped to explain the smell. It also probably meant that the NID, rogue or otherwise, was not responsible for his current predicament.

He was considering introducing himself to his new roommates when he heard footsteps coming from outside the cell. The others, at least the living ones, stood up. JT followed suit just as two of the ugliest guards he had ever seen came to the cell door. Heck, they were so ugly that they made the Unas look good. They were also well armed so, for once, JT decided silence might be a good idea.
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