These Violent Delights

Chapter 8: Seven Devils

WARNINGS: Severe psychological torture during interrogation. Very emotional/angsty.

—

"HELP! PLEASE, SOMEBODY HELP!"

You knew it was pointless to cry for help, but in your panic, you couldn't calm down. You pounded on the door, throwing your weight against it, but it didn't budge. It didn't even creak.

Over your frenzied mania, you heard him tsk at you. "Ah, ah, pet. Come."

You didn't listen, but it didn't matter; within moments, your body was pulled back as if tethered to an imperceptible rope. Before you came to a crashing halt, the Force took hold of your body and turned you around to face him. You couldn't move your limbs—he still had you in his cruel, invisible grasp—but you raised your chin at him in the only way you could express defiance.

"How nice of you to invite me to spaghetti night, gentlemen."

"We'll see how long that attitude lasts." Kylo nodded to one of his knights. "Take her."

Rough hands seized both of your arms, dragging you to the table. You squirmed in their grasp, and when one of them tried to pick you up, you kicked him in the chest. He didn't make a noise. He didn't even respond to your attempt to flee. If anything, he paused so you could hit him again.

"Ushar, control her," Kylo demanded. It was only then that the knight reacted to your struggle.

"You will stop," Ushar said, his voice deep and heavily modulated through his mask.

Your body immediately stilled. Tears trickled down your face as the other knight stepped away, allowing Ushar to scoop you up. He set you down on the table, the frigid metal piercing your back through the fabric of your shirt. His hand lingered behind your neck, gently lowering your head down.

His hold on you melted away, but you didn't try to escape; you might be stubborn, but you weren't stupid. The only thing you cared about was fixing your shirt—without underwear, you were at risk of being exposed at any minute. You desperately grabbed the fabric where it pooled around your thighs to yank it down, but hands batted yours away. Then the Force splayed your arms and legs open, followed by gloved digits brushing against your ankles. One at a time, Ushar clasped a restraint around them as another knight snapped your wrists in place by your sides. When they finished, you pulled against the bonds, but to no avail—you were completely and veritably stuck.

You were frantic as you looked around you. You didn't hear them, but the rest of the knights had silently circled around the table, three on each side, like predators surrounding their prey. Trying to twist your head back, you scanned the room for the biggest monster of all.

You couldn't see him, but you heard him. Those unhurried, powerful footsteps crossed the room and stopped right behind your head, taking his place at the apex of the table. You tried to crane your neck backward but could only get a glimpse of his lower body. Sweat prickled at your forehead when you saw he was holding a bright red cloth in his hand.

Is that a gag? you thought, but then you realized it was even worse when Kylo reached out and placed it over your eyes. You felt another pair of hands lift your head, giving him access to tie the blindfold into a knot in the back. Darkness surrounded you.

"You look so pretty like this, tied down and helpless," Kylo breathed, his hands cupping your jaw. He paused before muttering, "A gag isn't a bad idea, though."

You thrashed against the cuffs. "You're sick. A fucking monster."

He clicked his tongue. "That is subjective, little pet. One might call you a monster, as I recall telling you."

"And I recall telling you to eat shit."

You could hear the cruel, mocking smile in his voice. "Such a mad little monster, full of so much anger. How adorable."

"I'm not a monster."

"Tell that to Wor Groman. Tell that to the countless men and women you have slaughtered."

"Don't talk to me about Wor. He was the monster. I did the galaxy a favor by taking him out."

"Another subjective statement," Kylo murmured. "Are you ready?"

"To make this as hard as possible for you?" You paused for a moment. "Yes."

"Fine." He sighed. "This will hurt, pet."

"Sure, big—"

Pressure. Unyielding, blinding pressure built in the back of your mind. It ebbed and flowed against your skull, crashing against the inside of your head.

A modified voice spoke in your ear. "Give in, M421. Stop fighting, and I'll give you what you need."

As the tension came at you in waves, your voice was breathless, uneven. "Bite me, asshole."

"An interesting request," he said, as pain invaded your senses. You gasped at the sensation, your back arching off the table. It wasn't just your head that was under attack. As you swallowed your screams, you felt every fiber of your soul being torn apart and split open.

"I know you want to sleep," Kylo said, voice soft and relaxed. "Let me help you."

"Fuck," you gasped, "you."

Your captor tucked a hair behind your ear. "You'll regret that."

Through your breathless gasps, you heard Kylo speak softly to one of his men. You couldn't depict what he said, but it sounded like a name. First, you heard movement; then, a hand touched your face. The contact was light, but the pain that followed was excruciating. Tendrils lashed out at you, starting in his fingertips and shooting through your skull. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Only pathetic, high-pitched whimpers.

Modulated breathing hovered by your ear. "Just say the words, and I will make it stop."

You violently shook your head no.

Another murmur from your tormentor, another name. Within moments a hand landed on your ankle. The sensation reminded you of a sharp and stinging flesh wound, making you writhe in distress. You tried to twist away, but the knight only gripped you harder. With hands searing your face and ankle, you were experiencing two different yet equally horrendous types of suffering. You let out a strangled, violent screech, and Kylo's hand pressed against your mouth, muffling your screams as they vibrated against the leather of his glove.

"Stop resisting," Kylo said, followed by your name, "and this will all be over soon."

Even if you wanted to cave, you wouldn't be able to tell him—your insides were too busy being pulled apart to articulate a response. So instead, you told him to go fuck himself in your mind.

With a sharp exhale, Kylo summoned another one of his knights. A pair of hands traced patterns on your feet, and you jolted your head back and forth as it started to tickle, his light touch tormenting you. Stressed laughter tore from your throat—you couldn't help it—until his delicate caresses warped into the feeling of tiny needles piercing your skin.

Even over your shouting, you could hear Kylo's demand. "Submit."

You couldn't speak but thought, no.

Another mutter, another hand, and then your throat constricted. You sputtered, not being able to tell if they were physically choking you or just using the Force. Either way, you couldn't breathe. You could only gasp for air and pray to the stars it would be over soon. Time passed and reality clashed with a hallucinogenic state. You forgot where you were. You forgot who you were. There was a point you were convinced you were dead, the seven devils of Hell surrounding your corpse, but as Kylo yanked you in and out of consciousness, you realized that he and his knights were no devils.

They were far, far worse.

Each of them had a different type of pain to offer—a different brand, if you will—but all were equally debilitating, gut-wrenching, and personally designed for you. It was too much. You began to nod off, leaning into the darkness that beckoned you. In your surrender, everything that had ever existed within your brain resurfaced all at once. Memories, dreams, trauma...and as your life flashed before your eyes, the most bone-chilling voice of all invaded your mind.

"Submit."

And screaming. Someone was screaming bloody murder. The hands on your body left, but the sensation lingered, forcing a cough that made you gag. It was only then that you realized the wails were coming from your mouth.

Kylo's low voice growled in your ear. "Submit to me, Kitten."

You hiccuped and sobbed, tears bleeding into the cloth over your eyes. You had never felt more helpless in your entire life, but you still shook your head no.

Kylo's hands gripped either side of your face. "Give in. I know you're so close."

You shook your head again, and his hands seized you tighter, stopping you from moving side to side. Over your gasps for air, you could hear his erratic, hoarse breathing.

"Kitten...say no one more time, and I'll really let my knights have their way with you. Do you want to know what will happen then, pet?"

You tried to thrash against his hold. "No, no, no...."

"Allow me to enlighten you. This, now? This is nothing. My knights obeyed my order and are being gentle with you, sweet thing, but they are itching to tear you apart, and believe me when I say the rumors you've heard are true—they are as ruthless as they are sadistic. If I let them, they'd keep you here for weeks just to find new ways to break you. Then, once they were satisfied with the mess they'd made, they would wring out every last pathetic breath, every last scream from that loud mouth of yours," Kylo muttered, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. "Do you understand me?"

You didn't want that. You didn't want any of this. But you could only say, "Please, please..."

"Please, what?"

Your lower lip trembled so hard, you could barely speak. "Please, no."

"Then let me in."

For the first time, you considered it. You were hellbent on prevailing over this monster, but the idea of being tortured for weeks by his knights? You didn't sign up for this. Still, your stubbornness—and arguably, your stupidity—got in the way. You tossed your head back and forth in defiance.

With a savage grunt, Kylo's hands flew off of you. First, you heard quick footsteps, then a crackling hum pierced the air as he ignited his lightsaber. You could hear his guttural grunts from the effort of each swing over the loud shrill of his blade eating through metal. Pots, pans, appliances—nothing was safe from his destruction. You tensed, thinking surely this time he would put you out of your misery, but after what felt like eons of him destroying the kitchen, he finally extinguished his lightsaber.

"Ap'lek—you're first," the Supreme Leader growled. "Do your worst."

When Ap'lek didn't act right away, suspense settled in your lower belly. Each passing second felt like a year, and each approaching footstep caused an uptick in panic. You screamed when a gloved hand settled on your ankle, his fingers trailing up your leg with lazy patterns. It didn't hurt yet, but the anticipation sent you spiraling, and the idea of enduring this for weeks was enough to break you down.

"Okay, okay, please! Please don't! Just stop!"

The hand immediately left your leg. Across the room, you heard Kylo say, "Please, what?"

"I submit!" you yelled. "I'll let you in, please, please..." You felt the table rattle against the floor as he approached, blinking repeatedly once the cloth was pulled off your face. Kylo leaned forward, blocking the lamp with his frame, and pointed his mask down at you. You teared up in shame for caving in.

"Don't be so self-critical," he said, using a thumb to wipe a tear away. "You did well."

You couldn't stop your quavering. "Just hurry up and end this."

"I will try," Kylo said as he swiped the hair off your sticky forehead. "When we begin, you will see things you don't want to see. Do not hide from them, do not hide from me."

"What...what kind of things?"

"Fears, failed dreams, hopes...the deepest parts of yourself, the parts even you hide from."

"But why? Why do you need this? Why are you doing this to me?" you asked, your voice cracking. "Please, just kill me."

"I can't do that."

"Why?"

"I need to get inside here," Kylo said, pressing two fingers against your temple. "To do that, I need to become you. Only then can I dismantle what was meant to destroy me."

You cried harder. "Destroy you? What are you talking about? I never tried to destroy you. I never did anything to deserve this."

Kylo hesitated for a moment. "You're right," he said, adding your name. "You were sacrificed by someone you trusted. This isn't your fault."

"Sacrificed? What are you talking about? Please, please—"

He hushed you. "I will tread gently. I will not hurt you anymore."

You sniffled. "Do you promise me?"

Kylo didn't respond right away. When he did, his voice sounded lower than usual, strained. "Yes, I promise you."

You nodded and closed your eyes, still sniffling and hiccuping. When his fingers prodded at the other side of your head, you took a deep breath and let him in. You didn't know how exactly, but you simply didn't resist him, as though you had stepped to the side to let him walk past you. But as the pressure increased, you realized he was stepping inside you.

When you felt him enter completely, your whole body locked and tensed. You were not you. You were him. He was you.Kylo wasn't just inside of you; he had become you, two people overlapping in one. There was no pain, but it was uncomfortable. Two souls were not meant to be inside one vessel. You shuddered. You felt him everywhere, and everything was his to take.

"Very good," Kylo said, but his voice sounded far away, distorted. "Show me everything."

Your mind didn't need to process his words—they were your words, your thoughts. Without any resistance or confusion, you descended down to the dark part inside of you. The place you refused to acknowledge, or else you'd have to face the pain and suffering of wanting something you could not have.

A home.

And as you reached the bottom, you were forced to visualize what home meant to you. You were in a cozy living area, standing in front of the fire. A smiling woman walked through the doors of the kitchen with a plate of muja berry muffins—your favorite. Happiness swelled in your chest. You didn't know this face, but your lips formed, "Mom?"

"Hey, honey. Muffin?" she asked, walking toward you with the platter. "I made your favorite. Just for you."

"Not if I eat them first!" a man shouted as he ran by, snatching the platter. You didn't recognize him, but you understood this was your father.

You laughed, your eyes lighting up as you watched him stuff an entire muffin in his mouth. A part of you questioned your reality—this wasn't your father, this wasn't your mother...and yet, it could be, right? You leaned into this feeling; you had never felt so complete.

Something tugged at the back of your consciousness, something unpleasant and cold, but you didn't let it in. A smile split across your face, and a soft laugh poured through your lips, but your cheeks still felt wet.

She grabbed your hands. "Honey? Why are you crying?"

You clutched her soft arms. "I missed you, is all."

Your mother smiled. "Well, now that you're home, you won't have the chance to miss me."

"Home?" you repeated, the word tasting so sweet on your tongue.

"Home," your father affirmed, stepping beside you.

In real-time, you smiled, the tears salty and bitter as they dripped into your mouth. In your mind, you blinked, and suddenly you were on the sofa in front of the fire, sitting between your parents. A plate of cookies and three glasses of milk sat on the table in front of you, but you felt the smile falling off your face.

Where did the muja muffins go?

With a violent lurch of your body, this vision of home started to crumble. Everything began to shake. Your parent's voices sounded wrong to your ears, their faces distorting into swirling, hazy masses of nothing. The sofa felt prickly, like it was made out of needles, and the milk curdled right before your eyes. Black, viscous goo oozed from the floorboards and the walls, pumping the air full of a putrid, thick scent. You got the overwhelming sense that you didn't belong here, not anymore.

"Wait, this... this isn't real," you whispered, and once the words left your mouth, you wished you could stuff them back inside to swallow them, hiding them away. You wanted it to be real; you deserved for it to be real, right? Why can't I have this? Please, let me have this.

You dug your fingers into the fabric of the couch as you began to sink down, away from the fire and your faceless parents. Darkness closed in, slow and steady, coming right for you. Although it was shapeless and nameless, you knew what it was. It was the truth. And it was coming closer now. Once you realized you couldn't get off the couch, you tried to bring your parents down with you, but they didn't move. They just sat there, the pits of their faces turning into never-ending toothy smiles as the blackness bled from the walls and crept closer. You cried and screamed and thrashed your arms against the cushions.

"I...I don't like it here!" you yelled, blindly reaching for someone, for anyone. "Please, help!"

Somebody grabbed your hand, and within your mind, a tall, dark figure emerged from the walls. His face was blurry, but you knew it was him, your captor, your tormentor. Kylo Ren.

On the table, you throttled your head, broken whimpers blowing through your lips. "No, no, no..."

"Let me help you." You couldn't tell if he said it in your mind or in reality, but you didn't resist. Within your psyche, you took hold of his hand.

Kylo pulled you from your seat and guided you to a stairwell. He led you down until you reached a dark, damp room with a row of doors. Slowly, you walked past each one, looking inside. Each room you passed seemed familiar, but it wasn't until the last door that something beckoned to you. You stopped in front of it, eagerly dropping his hand to step in—only to find there was no floor on the other side. You fell right through.

The darkness swallowed your screams as you tumbled down. Eventually, you landed in a soft bed of grass, and with another blink, you were little again, playful shrieks ringing in your ears as a boy chased you up a field of tall grass and wildflowers. The climb was steep, leading to a pyramidal temple in ruins nestled against the base of a colossal mountain range. You immediately recognized this place, but right now, you couldn't remember why.

Giggling as you looked at him from over your shoulder, you climbed the steps of the overgrown temple and bolted inside. You wove through pillars and piles of rubble, jumping over crumbling stones overgrown with moss and foliage as you taunted the boy trying to catch up. The sun beaming through the partially collapsed roof guided you all the way to the back, leading you to the moss-covered steps built into the face of the mountain.

Breathing fast, you took two steps at a time, but now, the boy was right behind you. An exciting, anticipatory feeling settled in your gut as though you were playing hide-and-go-seek in real-time. Reaching the top of the stairs, you found yourself on a balcony in ruins, a dead end.

"Got you!" came the boy's breathy yell, his arms wrapping around you and spinning you around. You shrieked and giggled, gripping his hands around your torso, telling him to put you down, although a part of you never wanted him to let go.

Eventually, he did, and your hand immediately shot to his. It felt right to hold this boy's hand. Tugging him closer, you stepped to the edge of the platform and smiled, pressing your tongue against the gap where your two front teeth should be. "Wow."

Far off, you could see the smoggy, bustling skyline of a great city. But in this secluded pocket of nature, you had never seen such beauty before. A green lake sparkled down below, the grass and field of flowers hugging the hillside offered a pop of color, and the imposing mountains to either side of you provided a respite from the rest of the cosmos.

Your physical being started to cry, big fat tears running down your face, but this version of you, in the deepest part of your mind, had never felt so at peace. You felt like you belonged here with this boy, standing at the very edge of your own private world. And even when the vision crumbled like the stones of the pyramid, you still felt safe with him. He felt protective and warm and secure, even as a disease spread through this paradise, drying out the lake and charring the grass and flowers until all that remained was a black, smoking landscape. The bitter burning in the air didn't frighten you either, not when he was here.

"Can I go home with you now?" you asked, clutching his hand. "I want parents, too."

"My mother said we can't take you with us," he said, tears brimming in his big, brown eyes. "I want to, but I can't."

"But...you pinky promised me. Please don't leave me."

"I don't have a choice," he said, and when he said your name, he started to sob. "I'm so sorry."

This boy's pain, you could feel it in your soul. "Wait, don't cry. I didn't mean to make you sad," you whispered, reaching for his face to comfort him. But just as your fingertips touched his cheek, his skin turned to ash, and a sudden bang blew you apart.

Your screams echoed all around you as you fell off the balcony and into the temple. You tensed, waiting for the cool, mossy stones to break your fall, but you had slipped through the ground into an endless pit full of fire and heat and tortured souls crooning your name. As you fell farther down, the voices gave way to a demented, hysterical cackle, padded by ominous, mechanical breaths, as though you were trapped inside the lungs of a machine. Scrunching your eyes closed, you called out to the boy with the brown eyes, please come back!

With a thunderous plop, you fell into a deep body of water, kicking your legs to propel yourself to the top. But when your head broke the surface, you found you no longer had to tread water. You stood up and looked around, eager to find the place with the tall grass and wildflowers, but all you could see was the lake for miles and a horizon line that was but a swirl of colors where the pastel sky met the dark-blue water.

"Hello?" you called out, and your voice came bouncing back to you a thousand times. Hello, hello, hello, hello....

"My child, you are here," you heard a familiar voice say, and when you spun around, a flickering vision of General Organa rippled across the landscape.

You smiled at her, your heart soaring at the endearing way she looked at you. You took a step closer, eager to go to her. But that fleeting moment of happiness slipped through your fingers like the water did when you realized she was lookingthrough you, not at you.

"This is not the Jedi way," came a snarl from behind you. The water splashed as Kylo's vague, dark figure barreled past you to stand before Leia. "Luke would be disappointed."

The corners of her mouth pulled down. "It was Luke's idea."

As Kylo's anger built, his shape became more solid before your eyes, as did Leia's. "Hypocrites!" he yelled, his words floating around you in an echo. "Denouncing the power of the dark side unless it serves you!"

Leia took a deep breath, clasping her hands in front of her. "You have every right to be angry, Ben. I'm sorry."

"Do not call me that!" Kylo screamed, and the pastel sky began to warp into a deep, charcoal color. It started to rain, and you began to panic—this didn't feel right anymore.

You stepped closer to them. "Please, can you take me back to the temple? I want to go back."

Kylo whipped his head at you. "Quiet."

You stumbled back. This was the first time you had seen his face. Not behind a mask, not just a blur—his real face. The instant attraction you felt toward him sickened you. It made you dizzy, lightheaded.

Above all, it terrified you.