The Torment

Eight

I turned around, attempting to run from the havoc waiting for me from behind the metal door, but my action was cut off. One of the guards, gripping my arm, slapped me across the face, before tightening his grip and opening the door. My soul left my body when I glanced at the tools in this room.

If this isn't hell, I don't know what is.

The room was covered in grey coloured distorted walls as if someone tried to mimic a mediaeval dungeon. In one corner of the room, stood a large guillotine with a basket placed in front of it.

I didn't have to look to know what was in it.

Next to it, was a large slab of wood, twice my size and twice as wide, with chains attached to either corners. The entire place stunk of blood and death and I could feel my stomach churn. Despite the cold, my forehead was beaded with sweat.

They dragged me towards the wooden slab and I screamed with all of my strength.

"Let go of me!" I shouted, earning another slap from the guard. My vision had gotten blurry with tears and dread took a hold of me. They pushed me onto the slab and one of them started cuffing my wrists.

"Let go of me you asshole" I screamed, trying to wriggle out of his hold.

Click.

One of my wrists was cuffed.

"No" I shouted, throwing curses at the guards but they stayed silent.

Click.

Another wrist cuffed.

"Clinton" I screamed at last, hoping he'd hear my pleas and come find me. "Clinton!"

One of the guards stopped, glanced at his fellow and something unfamiliar flashed in his eyes.

Click.

One of my ankles was cuffed.

"Let go of me" I trailed off with a loud sob, hoping anyone, anything would hear me.

Click.

My eternal doom.

"It's a pretty piece" One of the guys- who slapped me- spoke. "Boss wouldn't mind if we had a little fun"

"Both of you, out" The blonde doctor stepped in, glaring at the guards who snarled at her before walking out. I glared at the ugly blondie.

"The toys, please" Dr.Freeman stepped out from behind her, gesturing towards a stand of tools I didn't see when walking in here.

My eyes widened to the point that I was afraid they'd fall out. By 'toys' he meant knives, scissors, long metal rods and saws of all kinds and sizes. The blonde woman handed him a small knife and he trailed towards me.

"You know ... .my father told me Hattersley was a nice young man," He spoke, standing at my foot side. I whimpered at the sight of the knife, not listening to what he was saying.

"But he was a stubborn one," Freeman added, letting his gaze crow over me.

"He didn't die easily" He smiled pathetically. "You remind me of him" He informed me before grabbing ahold of my shirt and ripping it apart.

"You sick fuck!" I shouted, crying at my now bare skin. Freeman exchanged a look with the blonde woman and then slashed the skin on my stomach open. The pain spread through my body like bullets and I let out a scream that made my own ears hurt. Blood oozed out of the wound and he cut me again, this time on my arm and worked his way towards my leg, landing cuts all over me.

Sweat covered my entire body and I sobbed, cursing him and at the same time, slowly losing consciousness. Maybe death is sweeter. It's waiting for me. I felt my eyes droop and oxygen leave my lungs.