Torture

            It hadn’t been long since their skin had blistered, since their wounds had festered and poisoned their blood, since their flesh had rotted away to the stark white of bone. It hadn’t been long since they first clawed at the stone walls of their prison, since they had carved dark gashes in their skin to get to the ticks they felt gnawing beneath, since they had gouged their own eyes out to stop the awful sights.

            No, it hadn’t been long.

            After all, it hadn’t been long since Ivan had ‘taken them under his wing’ and started the torture.

            He was going to kill them. This was something they were aware of. They knew he was going to drag it out for an eternity and smile at their suffering. But how long was an eternity? And how much longer could they hold out?

            Their land was gone, all of it was gone. That was why their bodies were dissolving before their very eyes. But they hadn’t ceased to exist. Not yet. They still hoped.

            Was this what Ivan was trying to do? Was he going to sit back and watch as their bodies and minds fought over the inevitable end?

            But there was a more important question that was pressing on their minds. Was he ever going to put them out of their misery?

            They guessed he didn’t know. He didn’t respond when they held interrogations of their own. He didn’t respond when they threatened to inflict this suffering upon him. He didn’t respond when one of them lunged at him; he only twisted their arms and snapped the weak, dry bone like a twig.

            And then he would smile his horrible smile and tell them that every attack, every complaint, every question, every word was another minute added to their life. But even that could not stop them.

            More than once, they had tried to take their own lives. More than once, they had tried to assist each other in the act. But it was hard, so hard; there were no guns, no knives, no pills to end this torturous life. And after a while they realized. They could not do it. There was no escape.

            And then one day Ivan came in the night, and stole one of them away as the others slept on, dreams punctuated by shrieks that could wake the dead yet did not wake them. And he took the other out, out of that prison, out of his house, pulling the other’s arm out of its socket as he skipped along. The sobs of blind pain had no effect on him as they waded through a field of flowers, bright faces upturned to the freezing sun.

            “W-what… are you… doing?” the other asked, whispering voice rasping from lack of use in a throat swollen from fear. Ivan smiled, leaned in, pressed a kiss lighter than the flutter of a butterfly’s wing to the other’s lips.

            “Saving you,” he sang quietly as the other’s gaze iced over. “The others. I want to watch the others suffer. I want to watch the others die. But you…”

            Chill breath frosted on the other’s cheek as Ivan whispered softly into his ear. “Not you, Toris. Never you.”

            A shaky breath filled Toris’s chest, skin crisscrossed with ropelike scars stretching tight over shattered ribs. “You m-mean…”

            The touch of icy metal to his temple filled him with relief, and all his fear washed away. There was no need to be scared anymore. He was safe now.

            “I love you, Toris.”

            There was a metallic click as Ivan flicked the safety off, and then he was gone, pure bliss flooding through his broken body with an ear-shattering bang. And all he could think as the darkness closed in was thank you, thank you, thank you.

            I love you too, Ivan.

Author's Note

Some slight Hetalia references, but they're easily ignored.
Yes. There is homosexuality in here. Please get over it.

Reviews

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Short and sweet.
Those first few sentences sent chills down the spine. Very dark, suspenseful, but then again, not a masterpiece. The words start to lose their captivating flow and the story itself isn't dealing with much.
Overall, pretty good. Don't take me as a critic. I'm just expressing my opinion. Keep up the enthusiasm!
79/100.