Dea_Goddess_of_Death (I don't think Dea could ever bring herself to do this, but here it is anyway)
[Open to anyone who is okay with graphic content.]
Whip.
Clang!
Whip.
The pain was intolerable. Every organ in his body was screaming to be released, but the twisted streak in him pleaded for more. The pain wasn't sexual, or even remotely enjoyable. It was just raw pain, it was hurtful.
Jim didn't show a sign of change in his expression. He carried the distant look in his eyes, as if he was an inanimate object, as he took your muse's abuse.
From head to toe, he looked absolutely disturbing.
His eyes were a dark shade of brown, and in the light that was in the room, they were black. Cold, piercing black. The bags right below them were prominent, due to the endless torture he had been receiving for the past few days. But what stood out most – terrifyingly – was the dried up blood that collected right under his eyes, due to his cut lower eyelid.
His cheeks had cuts littered all over them, and some fresh blood leaked down all the way across his sharp jaw, to his chin. He spat the blood out at your muse's feet, and looked back up adamantly.
He held his throat very steadily, only concentrated on not swallowing the poison that he held skilfully. He knew he was only prolonging his death, but he wouldn't go down without resisting, at least.
His clothes were barely on his body, tattered and soaked in blood. He sat on the chair, and moved his head back carefully, trying to ignore the dull throbbing. He couldn't risk speaking.
Jim looked at your muse, pleading silently with his eyes.
ČTEŠ
Actor
Nezařaditelné|| A C T O R || I T || S T O R Y T E L L E R || C R I M I N A L || G E N I U S || P S Y C H O P A T H || Come and play, darling. "All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players;" ~William Shakespeare. (Roleplay book)
