Participants:
| Scene Title | Broken In Sixteen Minutes |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Azrael beats the record, breaking Cassidy faster than he did Jessy Delaney before her. It only takes him sixteen minutes. |
| Date | September 7, 2009 |
| Advisory |
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| The following log contains scenes that may be intensely disturbing to some readers. |
A Cabin In The Woods
It took several minutes to remove Cassidy's jeans with the shears. Everything else came off quickly before Azrael covered her up to her waist with a medical sheet. Then he dragged the body of Jessy Delaney over, held up on a pully as she was, and began marking her various wounds with a permanent felt. Finally, all preparations made, he washes his hands and puts on a pair of vinyl gloves. "Ah, I forgot something. I'll be right back," he says to the poor, frightened detective, before vanishing into one of the other rooms of the cabin.
A sliver of sunlight shines upon Jessy's body, showing Cassidy that she was unconscious — or semi-conscious — for at least twelve hours, maybe more. When Azrael returns, he has a box of cloth and a very familiar quilt. It's the one from Coren's bed. He sets them both on the relatively clean floor of the workbench side of the torture chamber and then takes a seat at a tall stool next to the table Cassidy lies upon. Then he brings his hand to show off the various torture implements. Scalpels, hunting knife, glass, the shears, large nails, first aid supplies.
"This is how the game works, Cassie," he starts, pointing towards the recently deceased Jessy Delany, "You ask me to give you the cut by number, and I give it to you. If you refuse, I start making random cuts with a far more scarring implement, and then give you my choice of wound. If you're good, I'll treat the wounds, and even let you snuggle with some of Coren's old clothes. Maybe even give you some morphine. If you're bad, I'll give you heroin." He leans in close, his hair dangling down right in front of Cassidy's face, "Do you understand?"
Confusion, humility, and fear seem to be that many emotions playing in Cassidy's head. When the body is pulled closer, the detective's legs move as if trying to push herself away from her. When he leaves the room, she studies Jessy. "I am so sorry, Jessy." She murmurs softly before he comes back in, her head jerking back over to watch him.
She stares as the items on the floor with confusion, Cassidy's brows dropping a bit. Then he's looming again and she can't help but look up with a twist of fear. "What?" She asks without thinking, looking over at Jessy Delaney again suddenly understanding why the numbers. The hell….? "You want me to tell you how to hurt me?" She says completely disgusted by the idea. "Your fucking bonkers." she states leaning away from him as best she can strapped down as she is.
"OK then," Azrael says, rolling his stool and the tray of items to the foot of the table Cassidy lies on and lifting part of the surgical sheet off of her feet. He lifts from the tray a piece of broken glass and holds it up to the light, examining it. He sets it aside and repeats with another. "That's more like it, but not with these dainty little things." He opens one of the drawers on the rolling tray and pulls out a thick work glove, which he then puts on over top the vinyl one of his right hand. The chunk of broken glass, thick and ragged, is taken up once more. "Are you sure you don't want to reconsider? Heroin's pretty addictive, I'd hate to see you become a junkie."
When he uncovers her feet, Cassidy's instinct is too try and tug her feet away, fear twisting her stomach painfully. "What are you doing?" She can't hide that fear, she knows what's going to happen. She tries jerking her feet more as the fear becomes panic as he picks up the glass. But she can't just bow down to him. "I-I'm not playing your game, Azrael." Her voice quavers with her mounting fear, her body tensing for whats coming.
"Oh, you will," Azrael says calmly. He's never sounded anything but calm. Never shouts, never raises his voice. It's always that airy, calm voice, which is possibly why it's so disturbing. "You will." He takes the chunk of glass and pushes it and twists it into the sole of Cassidy's left foot, his other hand holding her ankle taught towards his force so that she can't get it away, even though the bindings on her feet would keep her from kicking him or moving far enough away to stop him from digging in.
Panic will make you do and say things you don't want too.. So Cassidy in a blind panic starts whimpering, "No… no no.. NO!" The last screamed as the glass digs into her foot. She tries to clench her teeth and hold back the pain, but the sound still escapes. Her head smacks back against the table, and her body strains against the strap hold her chest. Tears start to slide from the corners of her eyes.
Only a few more seconds of grinding at the muscle in the foot and Azrael slices down to her heal for one last scream. The bloody chunk of glass is dropped onto the tray as he stands and comes to face Cassidy again. "Sure you don't want to play? Not that it matters for this round. You lost your chance. There'll be no cuddling with Coren's shirt, no morphine. Heroin, though, that should work just as well, only it's far more addictive and will give you a better high."
Her whole body goes limp when the glass is removed, her foot almost seemingly numb from the pain, though she can feel the warmth and chill of the blood as it oozes from the wound. Soon it will be a horrible throbbing pain, but for now it's only a dull ache. His question is answered with a choked sob. Her foot twitches a bit and she gives a little pained sound. "Fuck you…" She spits out giving her arm a jerk, another sob choking her words.
"Perhaps," Azrael says, caressing Cassidy's naked body with a now ungloved hand, "When you're slightly more pliable. I can't say I'd much enjoy you all trussed up as you are now." The work glove is lost to the floor as he moves behind Cassidy again, pulling her hair back into a ponytail and binding it with a scrunchy. Then a syringe and a vial come out. He only draws a small amount from the vial into the syringe, and then moves over to the IV. "And now your first dosage of heroin, as promised. You really better start behaving. It won't take more than a few doses before you'll become dependent on it." He does not yet actually inject the drug into the IV, however.
Disgust. Cassidy doesn't hide what she thinks of him as she tries to jerk away from his touch. Of course, the action jars her foot, which results in her whimpering with pain, her leg twitching a bit as the pain is starting to increase. She just lays there when he starts binding her hair, though she does pull against his grip a bit. When he approaches the IV, she turns her head away, "Do what you want. I'm not playing your sick twisted game."
Azrael is just about to insert the needle into the IV line when Cassidy says that. He stops. "I seem to have forgotten a step. I'll be right back." Again he leaves the room. The Italian opera playing in the background is low enough that the occasional dripping sound can be heard from the blood on Cassidy's foot hitting the floor. Footsteps approach from behind Cassidy and then retreat as the record playing the opera begins to skip. Once it's been fixed, he comes back bearing a very large bag of salt and a sock. He sets the bag down at the far end of the room and opens it with the shears. Once he's filled the sock with salt, he goes to Cassidy's bleeding foot. "I'm afraid this is going to sting like a son of a bitch." Against her struggling, he works the sock onto her foot, making sure to press the sole of it, and the salt, deep into the wound beneath.
Her head quickly turns as he moves away and Cassidy looks a touch confused. There is silence from the redhead as she listens and then watches him. Her foot twitches as he starts to work the sock on and she gives a little hiss of pain as salt starts to seep into the wound. It's not unbearable until he presses the majority of the salt hard into the wound….
She screams for him.
"There we go," Azrael says, giving the sock a pat that makes the foot in it jump. He comes closer, "Maybe I'll hold off on the heroin a bit longer. Let that settle. You want me to work it in a little bit? Give your foot a good rub down? I think I have some solvent somewhere in the workshop." He leans over her again and holds her head in place with one hand while he brushes the tears away with the other. "This is only the beginning, Cassie. Jessy was strong too. She lasted about a half hour before she started begging me to cut her. It's only been ten minutes."
Cassidy makes little pained noises as the burning pain in her foot continues, she can't seem to stay still cause of it. Her head tries to jerk away, but if course Azrael is stronger. She can only glare at him through tear filled eyes. She has to swallow a few times before she can bite out the words again. "I'm not playing your game." It's obvious, how hard it is for her to say those words, her face grimaces with pain.
That twisted grin appears on Azrael's face again. "Oh, you're too easy. Every time you say that, you say it with less conviction. I might break you by twenty minutes. We'll see how it goes, yes?" He pulls his stool and tray back up near Cassidy and takes a seat once more, bringing up a scalpel. "Pick a number, or I'll pick one for you."
Something about him calling her weak makes Cassidy's resolve strengthen. She's been beaten by gang bangers.. She'd had these scars before… "I'm not playing your game." The words are growled out angrily, her head coming off the table as she says them, act of defiance marred by her tear streaked face. Her head drops back to the table and she gives a bit of a groan as the salt makes her foot feel like a molten ball of hot pain. She swallows back bile and licks her lips so that she can repeat weakly, "I'm not playing your game."
"Too surgical," Azrael says, ignoring every single word to come from Cassidy's lips. He lowers the scalpel and takes up the hunting knife, "Too sharp." He reaches to the floor and takes up the work glove again, sliding it onto his hand before lifting the piece of glass. "Much more useful." He looks to Jessy Delaney's body. "I think we'll start with number six," he says, pointing the glass at the longest scar before he leans closer, "And there's no Abby to take these scars away." On that remark, he begins to dig in. He's straight at first, but the glass is jagged, and he soon forces the glass to move just a little bit off course. It's clear he's practiced before, because as he leaves the left shoulder and across her chest, it matches almost exactly where she used to have scars. But then he deviates, cutting just at the base of her left breast before moving down across the original path towards her stomach. He goes nice and slow, though, because she's bound to jerk and pull at her restraints.
She glances over and there is a sharp inhale, her body going rigid and her eyes widening when she sees which one that is. Oh god. And then he's digging that glass into her shoulder and she jerks a bit and makes a sound that seems like she's trying to bite back her scream. But her attempt a bravery doesn't last long and she ends up thrashing, screams drowning out the opera, until she's reduced to sobbing again as the glass makes it's slow torturous journey.
And within two minutes, it's over, though it certainly feels longer. Azrael takes a glance at the wall clock overhead. It's where Jessy Delany's body had been hanging earlier, until it was pulled closer. "Thirteen minutes. I still have sixteen to beat my old record." He sets the bit of glass down and pulls up the shower nozzle attached to the side of the table, turning it on to wash away the blood that seeps from the wounds. Of course, it doesn't stop the blood from flowing. "Might need stitches," he observes as he sets the nozzle back in its holder and proceeds again to the bag of salt, pulling out a small glass jar from within it — filled with the stuff, which he then holds above Cassidy. "You're making this very hard on yourself." But he doesn't wait for a response. He pours the salt from one end of the wound to the other, watching it go red as it mingles with the blood. Once she's writhed enough to shake most of it off, he takes a dry cloth and starts to press the salt into the wound track.
There is a hiss of pain as the water washes the long jagged cut, Cassidy's body is in constant movement against the pain, she pulls against her restraints, wanting to curl into a ball on her side and cry. Can't let him win she repeats over and over in her mind. Of course, then the salt comes and her stomach clenches against the burning sting and she whimpers. When he starts pressing it into her wounds she screams again, the sound rougher since her voice is already getting tired. Her head lolls a bit as he finishes and she looks a bit like she's on the edge of passing out. "Not… playing… your game." The words sound soft, yet gravely from all her screaming.
Of course, there's simply no way he's going to let her stay unconscious if she does pass out. He washes away the salt with the shower nozzle, but the wound still bleeds. "Now that could be a problem," he says. Again, it's all calm. Clearly he has a plan, and he's simply stating things to bother her. He stumbles off his stool and goes to the work bench, back to Cassidy so she can't see what he's plugging in — provided she even has the energy to crane herself to look. It only becomes obvious when he sits down again. There's some clicking as Azrael plays with the trigger of a fairly outdated soldering iron, although it's clear the tip assembly is new, and shiny as it is, is quite possibly sterile as well. "We'll just have to cauterize."
Too busy to even try to try and watch him, Cassidy knows she won't like what he's got planned now. When he sits her head slowly turns towards him, her eyes go wide. Oh she's awake now, she even panics a bit. "No… nonono," she moans the words loudy trying to turn away from him, of course the actions pull the nasty wound and she cries out in pain.
Azrael sets the soldering iron down on the table right near Cassidy's right shoulder, close enough to feel the heat even through the water that coats most of her body — save her face. He licks his lip as he looks upon her tear-stained face. "You know how to end the suffering. All you have to do is ask, and I'll make the pain stop." He comes closer, a hand lifting her head up as the other points at the dead body of Jessy Delaney, marred by mostly new but some old scars and wounds that mirror the scars Cassidy used to have. "I'm not going to kill you, Cassie, so you can either have all of the old ones, and your choice of new, or I can make you resemble Frankenstein's monster and break you to the point of being little more than a shell of your former self."
Indecision is clear on her face, as Cassidy's shoulder twitches at the sensation of the iron near her skin. However, she doesn't jerk away when he lifts her head, her throat works as she slowly looks over at the body of Jessy. He can probably see the point where she breaks, a sob shaking her body. She starts to say something, but has to take a moment to lick dry lips. "Two…" The word is barely even noticeable.. but then she tries again. "T-t-two.." she gives another sob and screws her eyes shut tightly, her shoulders shake hard as she tries not to cry out loud.
"Shhh," Azrael says, brushing a hand softly across Cassidy's face, "Good girl." He withdraws the soldering iron and sets it back on the workbench before heading to Cassidy's feet and removing the salt sock. He even rinses the salt off of the wound, which like her others, still bleeds. He takes one of Cassidy's hands and gives it a squeeze, "Let's get you some morphine before we start…."
Cassidy can't even look at him, so she focuses on the body hanging there. She takes a deep shaky breath, but only ends up giving another heart wrenching sob. As she nods her head just a little bit. She closes her eyes and reaches for that little spark that says her partner is alive, a part of her willing him to feel her to know where she is… Of course, it won't happen.