ωμέγα (Omega)

Chapter ω

The whip came down with a sickening crack and the boy bit his lip, refusing to scream, to let the immortal being see his pain.
"No screaming? That isn't what a good pet does." The boy spit out blood and turned his head to look at his torturer. "Yeah, maybe I am just no pet, y'know. Get yourself a dog or something." Tartarus raised an eyebrow, caressing Percy's hair gently. "Repeat after me, boy: I. Am. A. Pet."

The boy shook his head. "Never," he spat, eyes blazing with anger. The whip was brought down a second time, stronger than the last blow. The son of Poseidon gasped and fell forward, leaning on arms and knees now. "Say it!" Percy shook his head again. The primordial glared in irritation.

"You will give in, mark my words. No one can withstand pain for long. Not even you." He whipped him again, but this time, it wasn't a normal blow no, Tartarus put his hellfire into it, burning the skin around the injury and scorching the flesh.

This time, the boy help but scream. He bit down hard on his lip, choking off the sound of pain. He was breathing hard.

"I. Am. Not. Your. Pet." His voice was pained but steady.
Tartaris scoffed. "We will see about that." He put the whip down and inspected the three new whip marks on his prisoner's back. He hold up his hand and a little black flame danced across his fingers. "Hellfire. It's an interesting thing, isn't it. Cold as ice and hot as flames at the same time. Some say it's made out of normal fire, souls of monsters and the river Phlegethon," he laughed quietly.

"Rumours are a powerful thing. But no, my hellfire is made out of water from the river Styx and my own blood. Do you what the blood of a primordial does to a puny demigod like you?" The boy didn't response. " It's acid to your skin, it boils your blood. And what do you think it can do mixed with the Styx? You already felt the pain, the burden of Achilles, now imagine that mixed with my blood. It's never been tested before, so you are subject 001. What an honer." Sarcasm dripped from his voice like poison.

He would make the half-blood scream. He'd make him beg and whimper. He put his finger on one of the fresh whip marks and lightened his finger on fire.
He watched as it burned the skin and boiled the blood around the laceration.

The hero could prevent himself from screaming the first two seconds, but he was literally on fire, hot pain erupting from his back, so he let a scream escape his lips, a blood curling, heart-wrenching scream that would curl anyone's toes.

Tartarus closed his eyes and listened to the melody of his screams, before tracing down the whip mark, sending waves of destruction and pain down the boy's back. "Tell me, Perseus, what are you?"

The boy took a moment to reply, considering about giving in, saving himself from the pain no living being, no teenager, should feel, but he was strong, he was a savoir of Olympus and he had his Wise Girl to stay sane for.

"I... I am a d-demigod," he groaned, grounding his teeth.
"Wrong answer," snarled Tartarus, grabbing Percy's hair hard enough for it to hurt. "You are at my mercy boy, do not push you luck." The half-blood bit his tongue and suppressed a wimpher, trying to cower away. Tartarus jerked his head higher up and showed Percy the black flame flickering across his hand. "It hurt, didn't it? I could make you feel that pain every day, every waking hour. You just have to say those little words and I will leave you alone," he whispered lowly.

Tartarus let go of Percy's hair, who hadn't had the strength to keep his head up and it landed on the ground with a painful thud. Tartarus placed his hand over the second whip mark and let a small flame flicker across it.

"Pain or pride, Perseus, what will it be? It's you choice." Percy had never been very prideful, but he wouldn't let his torturer be satisfied by making him afraid, at least he would not show it. Yes, he was afraid, the pain he felt was way too much to bear, but he still was a fighter and fighters never gave up.