The Inquisition
"The Bringer of Bad News"
"You need to stop screaming, or you'll shred your vocal cords."
The man ignored him, screaming again and again as the pain wracked his body. It seemed to be twisting every muscle, swimming through his veins, and firing off every nerve cluster in his body.
Mr. Tailor walked back to his workbench and produced a filing hasp for wood. He calmly walked over the man and asked him in a cold voice, "Where did you take the girl?"
The man rolled his eyes, his face twisted in pain.
Tailor then proceeded to quickly and forcfully file the mans left bicep with the hasp. The man screamed again as he watched his skin flaking off in ragged sheets, his blood spatterring the cold stone floor of the torture chamber.
Jake covered his ears with his hands, he tried to look away, but a tall man dressed in black, who stood behind him, pried his hands away and gave a hard slap to his face.
"You will watch! You will watch and learn! For you will be required to do this in years to come!" The man shouted in Jakes' ear.
Jake grimaced, trying to push the man away from him, but recieved another sharp blow to the face.
"Stop resisting! Your father has given you to us. You belong to us now, your flesh is ours to extract and mold into what we see fit. Do you understand?"
Jake sucked hard on his lower lip, the blood making his mouth taste like metal, but he nodded. He knew his father sold him to the school in the tombs. To be something that only a few could become. He knew that once his stomach was strong enough to handle watching a torture session, he was to partake in dissecting a cadaver. After he completed that unit of training, he was to work on live flesh, culprits and criminals sent to the tombs to be interrogated and to undergo mock inquisitions with real pain. It would be up to Jake to make the project flesh talk, to make them divulge their schemes and plots, to "spil their guts" so to speak.
"Jake, you have promise. You are the kin of a great inquisitor turned Judge. You are in the heavy footsteps of a great man. DO NOT DISSAPPOINT US OR HIM!" The man in black shouted, pointing a finger at him.
Jake nodded again, stifling a whimper and a tear. He knew that if he disobeyed, they would shackle him to the "Rot". A large wooden pole would be driven into the ground, him being chained to it belly to belly with a corpse. He would stay chained there until the body was well decayed, covered in filth, vomit, urine, and shit.
He had been through that treatment once already, he had to face it when he first stepped into that dark dismal place in the catacombs of "Abyss".
"I hate you..." Jake said softly under his breath.
"And we will love you for that." The man in black said, grabbing ahold of Jakes head with his large heavy hands, forcing his gaze back to the grisly session in front of them.
"Mr. Tailor, do you have the projects' confession yet?"
Mr. Tailor stopped hammering a chisel into the mans' knee caps, "Almost Judge Crow, almost. He's telling me where they went. But he'll soon be telling me where they dumped the girls body."
"Excellent, commence. But ease off of the central nerve zones, don't want your project going numb now do we?" The man in black replied.
"No, of course not Judge Crow. I will do as you say, and I will work on the projects finger nails for now."
"Proceed!"
Judge Crow, the man in black, turned to face Jake, "You will watch this now, and you will soak in all that you see, hear, and smell. Understood?"
Jake gulped hard, and nodded, "I will, but I'll hate you even more for it."
Judge Crow smiled and a satisfied smile, "Hate becomes rage, rage becomes a grudge, grudge becomes numbness, numbness becomes cold. You are learning well apprentice. Never forget the lesson you will learn today."
Jake sucked hard on his busted lip, reopening the wound, "I certainly will not."
The man ignored him, screaming again and again as the pain wracked his body. It seemed to be twisting every muscle, swimming through his veins, and firing off every nerve cluster in his body.
Mr. Tailor walked back to his workbench and produced a filing hasp for wood. He calmly walked over the man and asked him in a cold voice, "Where did you take the girl?"
The man rolled his eyes, his face twisted in pain.
Tailor then proceeded to quickly and forcfully file the mans left bicep with the hasp. The man screamed again as he watched his skin flaking off in ragged sheets, his blood spatterring the cold stone floor of the torture chamber.
Jake covered his ears with his hands, he tried to look away, but a tall man dressed in black, who stood behind him, pried his hands away and gave a hard slap to his face.
"You will watch! You will watch and learn! For you will be required to do this in years to come!" The man shouted in Jakes' ear.
Jake grimaced, trying to push the man away from him, but recieved another sharp blow to the face.
"Stop resisting! Your father has given you to us. You belong to us now, your flesh is ours to extract and mold into what we see fit. Do you understand?"
Jake sucked hard on his lower lip, the blood making his mouth taste like metal, but he nodded. He knew his father sold him to the school in the tombs. To be something that only a few could become. He knew that once his stomach was strong enough to handle watching a torture session, he was to partake in dissecting a cadaver. After he completed that unit of training, he was to work on live flesh, culprits and criminals sent to the tombs to be interrogated and to undergo mock inquisitions with real pain. It would be up to Jake to make the project flesh talk, to make them divulge their schemes and plots, to "spil their guts" so to speak.
"Jake, you have promise. You are the kin of a great inquisitor turned Judge. You are in the heavy footsteps of a great man. DO NOT DISSAPPOINT US OR HIM!" The man in black shouted, pointing a finger at him.
Jake nodded again, stifling a whimper and a tear. He knew that if he disobeyed, they would shackle him to the "Rot". A large wooden pole would be driven into the ground, him being chained to it belly to belly with a corpse. He would stay chained there until the body was well decayed, covered in filth, vomit, urine, and shit.
He had been through that treatment once already, he had to face it when he first stepped into that dark dismal place in the catacombs of "Abyss".
"I hate you..." Jake said softly under his breath.
"And we will love you for that." The man in black said, grabbing ahold of Jakes head with his large heavy hands, forcing his gaze back to the grisly session in front of them.
"Mr. Tailor, do you have the projects' confession yet?"
Mr. Tailor stopped hammering a chisel into the mans' knee caps, "Almost Judge Crow, almost. He's telling me where they went. But he'll soon be telling me where they dumped the girls body."
"Excellent, commence. But ease off of the central nerve zones, don't want your project going numb now do we?" The man in black replied.
"No, of course not Judge Crow. I will do as you say, and I will work on the projects finger nails for now."
"Proceed!"
Judge Crow, the man in black, turned to face Jake, "You will watch this now, and you will soak in all that you see, hear, and smell. Understood?"
Jake gulped hard, and nodded, "I will, but I'll hate you even more for it."
Judge Crow smiled and a satisfied smile, "Hate becomes rage, rage becomes a grudge, grudge becomes numbness, numbness becomes cold. You are learning well apprentice. Never forget the lesson you will learn today."
Jake sucked hard on his busted lip, reopening the wound, "I certainly will not."