Story inspired by listening to
The Rolling Stones
For those following the weekly updates on
Captain Juan, this will be added in within the next few weeks - with some editing.... I am exploring Dantes character and drive for what he is about to launch into and the Musical Musings seemed to fit perfectly..... for all others - please subscribe to a message in a bottle and join us in a ripping yarn about
The Astonishing Adventures of Captain Juan - a story being co-written before your eyes by
Paul ,
Jodi and myself.
Sweat and tears streaked the young mans face. Confused, terrified and pushed to his limit of pain, his once fine clothes were in tatters, sodden with urine and fear. His left arm was stretched out and tied to a solid wooden table; his body heavily bound to the wooden chair. His fingers delicately fanned out and secured by iron skewers, driven precisely into each knuckle and then firmly into the table top.
A canvas roll of iron and wooden oddments lay neatly to one side each piece carefully cleansed before being tucked away for future use. His eyes bulged as he could only imagine what pain the remaining implement might bring.
A tall muscled back faced him, the figure kneeling in prayer.
“Please, I’ll tell you everything. Whatever you need to know I’ll tell you’ Victor whined piteously.
“Of that, I have no doubt.” Replied the figure; the first time he had spoken in over twelve hours.
“Please who are you why are you doing this?” Sobbed Victor, his face etched in excruciating never ending pain. “ My father is a noble in the Royal Court. He will give you anything if you just let me go.”
Silence grew heavily, weighed down by the horror in the room.
The muscled back shone in the flickering torchlight like well oiled basalt. Unmoving, a low chant emitting raising and lowering with prayer.
Victor began to scream; the noise unnerving him, the pain was beyond anything he had every experienced; his terror and confusion blinding his consciousness.
The light was disturbed for a moment and a slight wooden scraping noise came from the side wall. Dante athletically flicked himself from kneeling to standing within a heartbeat. Noiselessly, he left the room; pushing the heavy iron lock sidewards to open wooden door. Victor had not noticed his exit and continued screaming hysterically.
Dantes’ head inclined slightly as he lowered his eyes momentarily. “My Lord?”
An obese sweaty noble patted his flushed face and wrung out the expensive silk cloth nervously.
“How long will this....” he gestured pathetically, “going to take?”
A humorless smile met Dantes lips,” My Lord, you requested little blood and maximum pain and terror. I can keep him at this point for weeks. I doubt his sanity will last more than a few hours though.”
Lord Toress hyperventilated “ I thought I wanted to watch it all, see him suffer every moment. Your methods are very.. ..exact.” He struggled to meet Dantes eyes as his hands nervously fluttered about.
“My Lord, why don’t you avail yourself to the kitchen finest offerings. I will order my manservant to fetch you some sweet wine. Once your stomach has settled then you might like to watch further developments.”
Toress’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Yes. Yes, a short break will strengthen my nerves. Ermmm… Carry on.”
Dante inclined his head slightly and spun on his heal, entering his sanctuary again.
He breathed deeply, seeking contact and approval from his God. He ceremoniously oiled his naked torso, chanting in prayer, cleansing his body from the momentary contact with the unclean outside.
His normally focused mind wandered, picturing the beautiful face of Ruby, her features striking as they contorted in the pain he had served her. A low guttural growl erupted from the depths of his body. Not since she had been stolen away from him thus ending his perfect reputation, had he experienced the thrill and exhilaration he normally experienced from his assignments. The beauty he found in his clients deaths was now meaningless. Despite acknowledging that he was still on his holy mission and cleansing the masses of wickedness; he now felt hollow and unfulfilled.
He drew a long metal skewer from his roll and inserted it into Victors wrist, just between the cartilage bones. Through a practiced touch, he kept thrusting it up into his arm to separate the ulna and radius, careful not to go too close to the artery. Victors screams hit a higher pitch as every pain receptor blew off the scale. The tiniest movement reset the throbbing with even his trembling pitching pain further through his body.
This used to be one of Dantes favoured moves, bringing him closer to God and to redemption, and now it brought him no satisfaction.
Growling again and cursing Ruby and that Captain of hers, he knelt swearing to God he would seek their painful long deaths to his last breath.
3 comments:
I truly enjoyed reading this. Thanks!
Urgh ... I grow to fear and loathe Dante more and more.
Though I would be lying if I didn't say that I was ever so glad that Ruby and Juan had exacted the perfect revenge on him - taking away the joy and delight in inflicting pain and torture.
:) excellent story
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