There was no light.
No sound to be heard.
No sense of any other life around me.
Just complete and total darkness that enveloped this mass of eternity.
Until the pains started.
At first it was just small pinpricks, no real pain in actuality; just a teddious almost uncomfortable feeling that managed to manifest itself.
Soon after, the whips began. It was like someone repeatedly whipping with a leather belt embedded with silver spikes. Welts rising upon the pieces of mangled flesh.
Then came the cuts. Just like in the ancient times when the Chinese decided that Lingchi was ultimate penance for the crimes committed. The being that had captured me had a slid his obscenely dull blade into every patch of skin that could be found. Im almost completely certain that there was not a single inch of flesh that was left untouched.
And finally the scrapes. The intense feeling of a metal object burrowing itself through all the layers of skin, just to rip it from the bone. I can feel the essence of my life force seeping onto the floor beneath me. Painting the canvas that is this floor in an everlasting nightshade.
All i could do was laugh.
Is this what passes off as torture these days?
Hours, days, weeks, hell even months could have passed by with this same cycle.
Pinpricks.
Whips.
Cuts.
Scapes.
Only when my captor finally grows weary of my mocking them in this tedious chore of abuse. Did i ultimitally take the opportunity to slip into a state of underlying ease. To let my wounds heal themselves to the state of undeniable perfection.
During these lapses of time between consciousness that quickly became the most intriguing aspects of my days. These passing spans of time had anything but that consuming night that lacked a single star in it’s limitless sky. There was only the absence of that darkness. With the most magnificent lights dancing in my dreams. Making the time pass by with more ease.
I'm still unsure of whatever otherworldly asshole was keeping me here. They must have known what i am; or are becoming increasingly frustrated with my healing without any type of medical treatment.
That poor bastard. They have no fucking idea what their in for.
My thoughts screamed.
Under normal circumstances i would have already broken out of this makeshift dungeon. Would have already put down all the arrogant dicktwitches that thought that had a right to make of light any nonexistent illumination of power.
Though i have to admit, whatever asshat that managed to pull this shit off had to have some balls on them; that sick fuck caught the almighty Commander of Death. Maybe when i get out of all of this i'll let them have a nice quick death. Or the more likely show them the abandoned ancient torture methods left in the past.
But i'm sure as i reap their very souls from every miniscule fiber connected to the vessel that they possess. That i would watch them live through the agony of having each and every one of the cells that obtains them slowly being ripped apart from each other. Having every atom of their from existence.
As all this time passes i have nothing to actually keep me from going mad. I've never realized just how easily my psyche can collapse without contact that i normally loath the thought of. As this routine stayed the same, i just became more annoyed with the lack of hospitality.
Like cmon you gave it your best shot. It didn't work out, please turn on a tv. Play an audiobook. I'm bored, i need mental stimulation!
Or maybe i've just become more insane than i originally was.
