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(XIX.)

Tap, tap, tap, tap...

Water dripping.

Wait... water? Where the heck was that coming from?

Eric blinked his eyes open and shook his head to clear his mind. Things were a little blurry as he looked around.

Okay, this was not something he'd bargained for when he'd decided to willingly hand himself over to Ben and the supreme council of werewolves. This was not it.

It took a while for his senses to awaken, and when they did...

"Argh! Shît." What the fück? He glanced to his sides and saw his arms fettered to chains hanging from the ceiling of this - silvered? - cell.

Yup, he was in a small cell, from the looks of it. In fact, he could feel hot silver rods embedded underneath the skin of his arms and legs. His feet were bare and held down to the bare silver floor by heavy platinum chains. He was sure it was the same platinum the Omni used to make their swords, because it hurt like a bîtch.

Whoever was behind this had really planned this out well, because they'd caught him off-guard. And he was rarely taken off-guard.

Now, back to the tapping sound. Where was the water? He needed to have a drink for his parched throat.

A rattling sound from within the walls caught his attention. Before his brain could try to analyse what was going on, he felt vibrations in the chains. Whatever was happening was definitely not good.

Just then, the most excruciating current ran through his arms. He clenched his teeth and hissed in pain, not wanting to show his agony.

This went on for minutes, till he couldn't take it any longer.

"Argh!"

He heard a chuckle, which sounded like it came from outside the cell. "Finally awake, huh? Good. This keeps getting better and better." The owner of the male voice jingled something. Eric held his breath in anticipation for the worst. "Let's keep the screams coming, shall we?"

Then, it happened again. This time, it was worse. Electric currents and heat were channelled into the cell and fetters. The hot silver underneath his feet scalded him; the high voltage passing through his arms sent him on screaming sessions. The man wasn't kidding when he said he needed to hear him scream.

The torture went on for twenty minutes in a wave-like pattern. Increasing and decreasing in intensity at certain intervals.

If his torturer was expecting him to beg, he was wasting his time. Eric never begged anyone, not even in fatal situations, and today wasn't going to be his first time.

"Still taking it in, huh?" The torturer tsked his tongue in mock disapproval. "Guess you're not doing the right thing with that mouth of yours."

What the fück was wrong with this guy? He was screaming his tonsils out, for heaven's sake. Wasn't that enough? Was a "please, I'm sorry" necessary? Besides, he didn't have to beg for anything. It wasn't like this was going to kill him.

After two hours, there was silence. Everywhere. Even the hard, thin walls of the small cell echoed his heavy breathing. There was only a little vent high up that served as a window. From the thin rays slithering in, he could tell it was nightfall and the waxing gibbous moon was high up. Probably almost midnight, he guessed. His senses were still in disarray from the aftershocks of the heavy current running through his bones and nerves.

It took several moments for Eric to calm down his breathing and heart rate. His pulse was freaking flying helter skelter, and it was damn hard to put it under control.