TW; graphic descriptions of bodily mutilation, gore, and mentions of rape.
1st April
How long does it take for a raving, power-hungry lunatic to get bored?
Theo probably should have had an answer to that question. He tried to think back to all the times he'd been on the other side of the knife and how long it'd taken him to get bored ... and he came up empty. Turned out it was hard to string a coherent thought together when you were being tortured around the clock. Ha. Who would've guessed?
Crouchy boy wasn't exactly the most imaginative when it came to torture, but fuckin' 'ell, was the chap consistent.
It seemed like he stabbed Theo everywhere. Nicked every vital muscle and artery he could find along the way. He'd leave Theo to bleed out on the filthy cellar floor, and each time, just before death could find him, Crouch would seal the wound, force a blood replenishing potion down his throat and the lovely process would start again.
He'd fractured and broken Theo's bones in the most painful ways and then he'd repaired them, just to break the fuckers again -
Oh, and he'd pulled two of Theo's teeth out from the back of his mouth. Yeah. That'd been fun. And the cheeky git hadn't repaired them. Maybe, if he did live through this, he could get himself a pair of gold teeth to replace them ...
Hours blended together after a while. The pain seemed to be just one endless cycle. It was all very tedious and predictable. Theo liked to think he put on a bit more of a show when he tortured someone.
Stab. Bleed. Heal. Repeat.
Break. Heal. Repeat.
Stab. Bleed. Heal. Repeat.
Break. Heal. Repeat.
It wasn't nearly as fun to be on this side of the torture chair.
Theo's only saving grace was that Crouch had the fucking stamina of an old man, and eventually, he'd retired upstairs with his Dolls, but not before he'd broken every bone in Theo's body, oh no, Crouch had been quite insistent on that. Prick.
He had guests coming, that was his excuse. Guests. Guests who wanted Theo dead as much as Crouch did. They'd probably torture him tomorrow, too. They were going to get into his head soon, Theo just hoped he could stall them long enough for Malfoy to set up another safe house. Somewhere really, reeeeeeally fucking far out of the way.
Crouch was going to burst through those cellar doors again before long, Theo was sure of that much. Voldemort wanted to interrogate Theo tomorrow afternoon, and if Theo knew Crouch - and unfortunately, he did - he'd want to get a few more stabby stabs in before old Boldie had his fun.
He weakly leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling with his one good eye. He couldn't see a fucking thing out of the other. Crouch hadn't healed him properly before he'd gone upstairs. Left him to stew overnight with a black eye, Salazar knew how many broken ribs, and an open stab wound in his left thigh that was juuuuuust deep enough to bleed out and leave him weak and dizzy, but not quite deep enough to let him die.
Ah, old Crouch. What a brilliantly clever, yet deathly boring old geezer. Would it have killed him to be just a teeny bit more creative? He could have done so much more with the space. The ceiling looked strong and weight-bearing. Crouch could've easily put some hooks through there and chained Theo up by his toes.
Dark Lord's cleverest Death Eater my arse, Theo thought bitterly. He wouldn't know a decent torture tool if it hit him in the face with -
Drip.
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Secrets and Masks
Fanfiction"If you weren't so important to The Dark Lord, I'd kill you right now" "If I still had my wand, you'd be dead already" Nine years after the Battle of Hogwarts, the war rages on. Voldemort is triumphant, but The Order continue to fight. Whilst on a...
