The Ghost In The Well

8

A/N: The moment you've been waiting for... May I present to you... the ANGST! Oh good lord please cleanse my sins.

Warnings: Abuse, torture, violence, rape, major character death and so on. DO NOT IGNORE THIS!

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Cold.

A bucket of cold water was suddenly doused on him, forcing him to stay awake when he was about to lose consciousness. Thanks to that, his hair and clothes were now wet, and his body was shivering from the cold. Several men in tunics were laughing at his pathetic condition, and one of them yanked his hair back firmly.

"Well? Are you ready to talk now?"

The man who yanked his hair had an ugly mask on his face, his hair colour was similar to his own and his eyes were more towards brown than red.

'Crazy... they are all crazy.', Cale was having trouble keeping eye contact with that jerk. His head was spinning and he was only hanging on because of his pitiful hair, though being pulled by the roots hurt more than being slapped across the face.

He knew this wasn't his memories, yet everything felt so real.

His body moved on its own. The "Cale" from this memory opened his mouth and spit on the white star's face.

"Don't make me laugh, I don't even know you."

A coarse voice came out of the young redhead. His chapped lips were covered with dried blood, his eyes were bloodshot, and he was struggling from a nosebleed.

Cale could tell by what he saw. This seems to be the moment when the white star kidnapped Cale Henituse and tried to observe what was so dangerous about him. Quite the unfortunate case for this young man who turned eighteen this year, he was taken away and tortured just because he posed a threat to the white star's "great plan".

At present, the memories of this young redhead merged with his and they became one.

"You looked too dumb to be useful, I wonder why he warned me so...". (he= tcf white star)

The white star then let go his hands, the strands of hair slipped through his fingers and the weak body fell to the ground with a small thud. A subordinate of his handed him a handkerchief to wipe his face.

"Ha! You think my father would let this go?!"

"Tsk, I was hoping for a... hmm god's messenger or a powerful opponent, but a spoiled brat? This is disappointing."

Cale groaned as the white star stepped on his fingers. He felt helpless as he had little to no energy left to refute. If that jerk used more pressure, his fingers might be crushed.

"Tie him up and use the whips, give it your best.", the white star said without hiding his smile. A few men started tying Cale with thick ropes to the ceiling.

"You shithea- Urg!!"

Strokes were whipped to his back one after the other. With each stroke, the man in charge progressively increased his speed and strength, striking the bleeding old whip marks.

Cale bit his lips to muffle his cry, tears slip out of his eyes uncontrollably as the delicate young master of a rich family was not used to such harsh treatment.

It hurts.

The young redhead glared at the man responsible for his miserable state. That shithead was sitting on a luxurious couch made out of soft leather, sipping wine from his glass while crossing his leg. Their situation was the perfect description of heaven and hell.