continued w/ @kishxn
the night hours’ creeping in && the entertainment had still not concluded. stubborn than most && delightfully headstrong, the usual methods hadn’t broken him. why, even the Cat’s Paw had done little but make a few marks. what reduced a man to incoherence && hysterics barely dented the firebrand. the streaks of red criss-crossing monochrome checkered tiles && the spray of droplets against a white backdrop had nothing on this … wonder. he was not nearly as broken as he looked. infuriating, to any other. a thrilling prospect, to him.
“ oh I think you will. but perhaps you need a little nudge. ”
How long had he been here like this? An eternity could have passed for all he knew, because all he knew right now was pain, blood and the raw, burning sensation in his lungs from screaming more and louder than he’d ever thought was possible for him to do. He had remained so firm and silent at first, refusing to let the pain show in his features or his voice, but the hours of torment had worn him thin and made him weaker than ever before...
...in body, not spirit.
No, his soul was strong as ever, if not more. The pain, the harsh words, the sight of his own blood dripping onto the tile beneath him, restraints digging into his skin...it all added up to fuel for his internal flames.
“I’m gonna kill you...you better know that.”
