Secrets and Masks

57. Click, click, click.

Aaaaaaand there he went again. Off on another rant. Screaming and shouting. Foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog.

It was quite funny to watch the way his eyes bulged out of his head like a cartoon character, or the way the vein in his forehead looked like it might pop out and smack Theo in the face.

He wished Daph could see it. She'd piss herself laughing. She used to like getting under Crouch's skin even more than Theo did.

How - in the actual fuckety fuck fuck - had he managed to find himself here?! The whole thing was a shit show. A great big, ballsing fucking shit show all cramped into a piss poor wine cellar/ makeshift torture chamber dungeon thingymajig.

And Crouch was walking back into the shadows and ... bloody Nora, was he still talking? Did this man ever shut up?!

Theo's head rolled against the back of the chair he was tied to. He stared at the ceiling, quietly humming the Muggle Christmas song he'd soiled with Crouch's name. He tried to tap his foot to the beat, but the clever cunt had secured robes around his ankles too, preventing him from moving an inch.

It shouldn't really have bothered him. Wasn't like he had a plan. He was tied to a chair, shirtless, wandless, and at the mercy of the man he'd done nothing but wind up for years.

Aaaaaaand who was walking back towards him with even bigger knives in his hands. Oh goodie. Now they were getting somewhere.

"Oooooooh, dose are biiiiig knives. Compensating for something, are we?"

Crouch's face lit up with fury when Theo wiggled his eyebrows and looked - rather suggestively - at Crouch's crotch.

Hah. Crouch's crotch. That was funny. Had a nice little ring to it.

"You know what they say about men who use big knives? Oh dear, didn't realise you were a little .. you know .. lacking in that particular department. Don't worry though mate, I'm sure you make up for it in ... other ... areas?" Theo sighed, relaxing against his chair. "No? Oh dear. It's why I've always liked to stick to the little itty bitty daggers myself. All secure, me. Never had any complaints-"

Crouch stepped forward and let the blade rest against Theo's throat. "Silence, boy! You'd be wise not to test me-"

"Eughhhhh 'ere we fuckin' go again!" Theo groaned and dropped his head back so he could stare at the ceiling again. "Can you hear yourself?! Do you know what you sound like? If I were you I would - aghhhhhhhhh!"

Only sneaky bastards stabbed men while they were in the middle of giving advice.

The blade cut through Theo's left thigh like it was nothing. He felt a sharp pain. He felt his muscles tear as they were shredded by the silver and felt his blood warm his thigh.

Theo stared up at Crouch as his breath left him in quick, sharp little pants. "Oh come on ... Crouchy boy ... where did you ... go to torture school?" Though the pain was almost blinding, he managed a smile. "You can't just ... go right in for it ... where's the ... suspense? Where's ... where's the art? You can do ... better than that ... surely?"

Crouch's lip quivered in anger. His eyes were wide and seething. He looked like an angry bull in the ring with a matador.

Crouch rotated his wrist and the blade followed, slowly turning, severing more muscles -

Theo jerked in his chair but managed to keep his scream of pain to a low hiss.

"Is there another joke you want to make, Nott?" Crouch kept the one blade engraved in Theo's thigh and pressed the other against his throat. "Or have your balls dropped off?"