A/N: I have to fucking stop making so many multichapter fics and finish the ones I've already started... -_-;

Nevertheless, please do enjoy reading.

The Good Thing That Hurts

1: Cold, Unease and Rage

White; practically the only colour he had ever seen his whole life in the compound. Now he was out, but it was as though the universe was mocking him, for the outside world which he had always hoped to escape to was blanketed in that same stupid colour. It was cold too. Colder than the compound. However, he was pumped full of far too much adrenaline to properly take note of the temperature; his strong limbs straining to their limits to get him as far from that hellhole as possible.

His restraints suddenly zapped him and he faltered, but staggered on. Giant puffs of cloud billowed from his open, panting mouth much faster now than at the beginning of his run. He was tired. So damn tired... But he had to keep going or he would be dragged back there.
His arms still stung from the many needles used in this morning's tests and his side throbbed painfully from being kicked by the Director. The fatass had probably broken a couple of ribs, if the weird feeling in his side was of any indication.
He coughed, a harsh breathless bark, and the corners of his mouth became slick.

Well, shit.

A pained howl as another, stronger, jolt of painful energy surged through his battered body.

He managed to stagger another few steps forward before losing consciousness and planting face first into the snow.

Today was colder than the last few weeks. The snow was a lot heavier too.

Vader shrugged into a second coat and slipped on a pair of woollen mittens before stepping out the door. The cold was an almost physical force. It whooshed in her face with the force of a slap. She winced, but closed and locked the door behind her before setting off at a brisk walk. Vader shoved her hands into her coat pockets. The left was fisted loosely around her admission ticket.

She couldn't wait to see Sugar's performance. The girl was amazing at dancing; a born natural, even. And it was a fact that Zacharie never failed to rub in.
Vader rolled her eyes at the thought of having to listen to more of his bragging.
It was nice that he was so proud of his girlfriend, but he seriously needed to tone that pride down because it was getting incredibly irritating.

Despite being slightly zoned out, Vader's brisk walking pace ensured her timely arrival in the town of Bismark, where Sugar's performance was to be held. Standing tall and proud at the very centre of town was the library; a beautiful piece of architecture with shelves filled with hundreds of thousands of books. However, for some reason or another, the building had been painted a flamboyant bright orchard colour, making it a little harsh on the eyes.
Averting her own, Vader headed north, towards the shopping and entertainment district. She passed a sign with a series of arrows pointed in each of the four cardinal directions. She already knew her way around, and which direction each of the arrows pointed towards, so she didn't stop to look at the sign.
The south of Bismark, from where she had entered, was represented by a single thin black arrow pouting down. West was represented by, of all things, a small isosceles triangle, pointing left. East was a thick white arrow bordered by thin black that pointed right. Finally, Vader's destination, north, was marked by two thin black arrows with closed and coloured ends pointing upwards.

Vader drew her coat closer as she passed under the massive, sweeping arch that led into the shopping and entertainment district. The cold was really beginning to pick up now.
Thankfully, the theatre was close.

With a grateful sigh marked by a small vapour cloud, she began crunching through the snow towards the stairs leading into the theatre.
"Salut, Vader!"
A small smile tugged at the corners of the woman's lips. She stopped in her tracks and turned towards the man approaching her, smile stretching. "Greetings, Zacharie. How is business these days?"
Zacharie, a man a bit on the short and stocky side, with thick, strong arms, grinned back up at her. The numerous scars marring his otherwise handsome face stretched at the action. "Eh, things could stand to be a bit better at the shop. Perhaps the items I sell are not obscure enough," he chuckled in his usual peculiar manner. "However, the park has been steadily growing in popularity, so I suppose that amounts to something."
"That is pleasing to hear." Vader said, moving to one side of the stairs so that Zacharie could walk next to her. "And Pablo," she continued once he was walking alongside her, "how is he these days?"
"Good, good. ... His brother is still missing, however."
The smile dropped from Vader's face. "Valerie still has not been found?"
"No," sighed Zacharie. "And what makes things even odder is that recently the librarian hasn't been seen either."
"That... that is incredibly odd." Vader responded, feeling uneasiness brewing in the pit of her stomach. Her back and arms also prickled. She scratched at her left arm through her three layers of clothing. It did little to ease the prickling sensation, but her nerves settled the slightest amount.
"Ah, but enough of this sombre atmosphere. We are here to watch my sweet Sugar's performance!" Zacharie exclaimed. His scarred face instantly lit up at the thought. Vader, too, became more at peace as she thought of the performance. Speaking of...
"Zacharie, we should hurry and claim our seats."
"Ah, of course! Gracias for the friendly reminder, my dear friend."
The pair climbed the last few steps and Zacharie pushed open the double doors. Vader thanked him and entered first.

He gasped, and the sudden intake of air made him choke.
Asleep... He had fallen asleep. That was bad.
The coughing fit passed and, jerkily, he staggered to his feet. His tongue swiped quickly across his mouth.
Dried blood and a bit of the soft, powdery coldness that surrounded him.
It tasted like freezing water when it melted on his tongue so he shovelled some into his mouth. The cold bit and burned harshly, and there wasn't as much water in it as he had thought. He also felt thirstier.
He licked around his mouth some more, trying to better gather his foggy thoughts.
How far from the compound he had travelled was beyond him; he'd been too spurred by adrenaline and fear to take distance and landmarks into account. Besides, everything looked the same under this blanket of frigid, powdery white.
A strong bout of shivering swept over his battered body and he curled in on himself. His body felt numb.
Shit, shit, shit!
Slowly, drunkenly, he staggered forwards. He needed to find shelter somewhere... And warmth, he needed warmth too.
A loud scream as three powerful shocks were sent through his body simultaneously.

He collapsed to his knees, panting heavily as he fisted the powdery white ground.
The shackles needed to go too.
He bit at the one on his left wrist and clawed at the one around his throat with his free hand.
Warning shocks made his skin tingle constantly until he finally gave up. Fine. They could be taken care of later. His current priority was to seek somewhere warm to take shelter.
With a pained grunt, he pushed himself back to his feet and resumed his staggering pace.

"S-sir! The subject is, um... lost!"
"... Lost?" The tall man behind the desk growled. His subordinate flinched and began to fidget nervously. "Ah... Y-yes, sir. Lost."
"How the fuck," hissed the man behind the desk as he pushed himself to his feet, "could you LOSE something that fucking big and ugly?!"
The sudden loud screech of his superior made the trembling man cower. "I-I, uh...!"
"Forget it." Snapped the tall man. "Go see the Director. You're fired."
"N-no! Sir, please...!"
"Shut your trap, you poor moron! Now hurry up and get out of my sight before I snap your neck!" He slammed a fist on his desk, denting it heavily, for emphasis.
With tears in his eyes, the smaller man saluted and scurried out of the office, almost slamming the door behind him in his haste.
Sighing heavily, Dedan sat back in his chair, running a hand over his hairless skull. "I knew I couldn't leave anything to those miserable shit stains. Fuck!" He snarled, kicking over his desk with a black booted foot. Scattered papers floated gently before Dedan and he glared at them with his dark, hooded eyes until they landed.
The boss wasn't going to be happy.
With an enraged screech, Dedan leapt to his feet and kicked the overturned desk at his office door.

Splinters flew.

A/N: I must confess, I had no ideas for a name for this one... That is, until I looked up what Mozart Opera Rock's song Le Bien Qui Fait Mal meant in English. I might change it if I come up with something better, but for now, the name stays as is.

Anyway, please give me your thoughts on how it is thus far, and how I can improve. I'm still learning how to be a good author, after all.=-)