11. Games

Frey tries his hardest not to break as he endures unspeakable physical and mental torment.

This Chapter contains vivid descriptions of torture, repeated physical and mental abuse, M/M rape, a whole lot of offensive language, mentions of murder, gore and blood, and subjects that may upset and/or disturb the reader.
A/N: This is what happens when you're depressed and watch too many torture snuff films.  This is some very intense stuff, and very graphic: if this upsets, disturbs, or makes you uncomfortable; feel free to skip this chapter.  You won't miss anything large to the plot.  It's just torture and Frey's mind being broken... uh... yeah...


-Frey-

He's really gotten to be even more of a sadistic f**k in the years I've been gone.  I didn't even know it was possible for him to get any worse, but apparently it is.  He's relentless and brutal, at least before he'd take time to tease me and play with my emotions before he cut straight to torture, now he just does all his insulting while he beats the hell out of me.

I hear his footsteps above, along with the sound of a body dragging across the floor.  He must have been gone for a few hours, I'm guessing.  I hear a slam of the backdoor and listen for anymore sound.  He must be burying the body of the victim he just murdered.  That gives me about twenty minutes or so until he comes downstairs to f**k with me.

I pull on the chains around my wrist, checking their strength.  They're too thick to break or pull out of the wall, and there's no way I could slip my hands through.  I look around for anything I can use to pick the lock, but I don't see anything within reach.   There's a crowbar half way across the room, and a bloodied knife lying in the far corner.  They're too far away to do me any good.

The everlasting pain in my body just makes me more angry.  I know I've gotten a few good hits in on him, but he's completely brutalized me.  Every inch of my body aches.  My fingers burn just feeling air on them after he pulled off my nails. Not to mention how bad my lower area hurts right now.  I really hate being naked like this.

I rest my head against the wall, closing my eyes and envisioning him in bloody, hacked up pieces on the floor.  The image makes me smile. I let my mind drift, pouring my anger into gory fantasies and murderous images.  It'd feel so good to make them come real.  As soon as I get an opening...

I hear the footsteps return and I snap my head up, watching them head across the floor.  They come closer and closer to the basement door and I feel dread well up inside me.  A part of me hopes he just keeps walking right on by, but I know that's only wishful thinking.

He shows his face, caked with dirt and dried blood as he smiles at me with the most insidious grin. "What? No colorful insults?"

"Yeah, go f**k yourself." I mumble.  I'm too tired to be creative.

"You know, being difficult is just going to make this worse for you."

I chuckle, "You're going to torture me anyway, I'd rather insult you than cry about it.  You won't make me submissive again."

"Yeah, let's see how long that lasts." He reaches for my hand, his grip crushing the broken fingers and stinging unprotected skin under my nails.

I struggle to get away from him, my pulling only causes me more pain.  I smash my forehead into his grinning face, causing him to release my hands and fall backwards.  I smirk as he holds his jaw, his eyes filling with rage.  I know that's going to get me rewarded with a severe a*s-kicking, but it makes me feel good in the moment.

He grabs my hair, smashing the back of my head into the wall.  His hand wraps around my throat, squeezing with bruising force.  "You just don't know when to quit, do you?" He hisses into my ear, "You know you're going to get punished for that, why do you have to be so f*****g stupid?"

I'd rather be stupid than a b***h.  I'd rather fight back and be beaten to a pulp, than lie there and take it.  At least this way, I feel like I'm not being used.

My lungs start demanding for air, and I pull on the chains holding my wrists frantically.  He lets me go, ordering me into my knees.  I gasp in the sweet air, trying to stop choking on it.  He kicks me in the stomach, shooting pain through my already broken ribs. "Get on your damn knees, brat!"

"F**k you!" I scream back at him, blood spitting with my words.

He kicks me again, "Get on your f*****g knees!"

Becoming angered by my stubbornness and cursing, he forces me to obey him.  He presses my face against the rough wall, my bound arms painfully pressed between my chest and the concrete.  I hear him undoing his belt, and in seconds I feel a sharp slash across my back.

A crack rings through the room when he brings the belt down on me again and I clench my teeth.  Again. Again. Again. The welts begin to mass over each other, and his hand lets go of my hair and allows me to drop my head between my arms.  I gasp and pant in pain as the belt relentlessly comes down on my back and a*s, over and over.  Hurts more than I remember it did.

"You're a useless f*****g brat, you know that?" He hisses at me. "You don't know your place anymore.  It's like you've forgotten what a b***h you are."

"I am not a b***h!" I scream at him, closing my eyes tight when my outburst earns me another welt.

"You're not? Really?" I shiver when I feel him behind me, right up against me. "Because in this state, I can do whatever I want to you.  So tell me, who isn't a b***h again?"

"You're sick..." I mumble.  I cry out when he suddenly thrusts in.  God, that f*****g hurt.  He slashes the belt down on me as he f***s me, adding insult to injury.  As if beating me with a belt or raping me wasn't bad enough on it's own, he's got to do both at the same time.

"This is pretty much all you'll be good for, you know?  Murdering people and being fucked like a two-bit w***e."

"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure the only people you f**k is by force, because no body's gotta want to sleep with a messed up, sadistic fat f**k like you willingly!" I yell back at him, earning another frenzy of whippings across my back.

"You're one to talk.  How many people have slept with you, other than me?"


I hang my head between my arms, blood and saliva dripping from my open mouth as he pounds into me hard enough to make my head repeatedly bang the wall.  Stay strong.  I tell myself.  Stay strong.  Don't let him win.  Don't let him know how painful and degrading this is.

"Gotten quiet, huh? What? No more rude comments?" He says smugly, placing another welt on top of the numerous others across my flesh.  D****t, will he quit it with the f*****g belt already?

"F**k you." I mumble blankly.

"That isn't very creative, Frey." He suddenly wraps the belt around my throat, yanking me backwards.  I'm bent nearly in half, strangled, and my arms feel as if they're being dislocated. He continues his brutal assault.

"Stop," I choke out, "Can't breathe."

"Hurts, doesn't it?  Good. You know you deserve this." He whispers harshly into my ear, "You're a monster.  Unlovable, unwanted, disgraceful, tasteless little freak! This is your punishment for all your sins."

I gasp for air, dark spots dancing in front of my eyes.

"Tell me, Frey.  Did you really think you deserved to be free?  You don't.  You deserve to be used, broken, and mistreated.  It's all you'll ever be good for." His words sting, stabbing daggers into my chest.

"Stop, I can't..." I gasp, tears beginning to roll down my cheeks against my will. "I'm sorry...Just...Stop."

"Why are you crying, Frey?" He asks, his voice slick with sarcastic curiosity. "Do you think anyone cares that you're suffering?  Do you think I'll show you mercy?  Do you think you deserve mercy?"

"Please..." My legs ache.  My arms are throbbing from the strain.  I feel warm blood dripping down my thighs.  My lungs demand air while my mind is threatening to pass out.

"No one cares, Frey.  No one gives a damn about some useless brat like you. No one will ever want you.  No one is going to show you mercy, comfort you, or save you anytime soon.  So why are you crying like a worthless little b***h?" I can hear the smirk, the sadistic grin.

"It hurts." Is all I can manage as a reply.  Because it hurts.  His actions hurt. The rape hurts. The belt around my throat hurts.  The welts on my back and a*s hurt.  But most of all, his words hurt... They hurt really bad.

"Yeah, the truth hurts, kid. Accept it." It burns when he finishes.  He lets me drop onto my side on the floor, my aching arms awkwardly twisted and still bound to wall.  With that, he just leaves me there.


I don't know how much time goes by.  I can't keep track of days anymore.  It's all the same anyway, time doesn't seem to even exist in this hell.  I'm tired, hungry, and everything hurts.

I feel the knife cut deep into the sensitive flesh of my inner thigh, hissing at the stinging pain. "F**k, will you f*****g stop already? Even you have to sleep at some point."

How long has he been slicing me? Hours, maybe? I don't know anymore.  It's just endless pain mixed with that sadistic smile on his face as he carves me like a damn turkey. F**k, I can't take this anymore.

"That can wait.  This is actually pleasantly relaxing." He says thoughtfully, slicing another cut.  His eyes watch the blood run down my leg and I look at him in disgust.

"This is you relaxed? It's a wonder you don't have friends, family, or a wife." I spit at him sarcastically.

I try so hard to keep the mask up.  I try so hard not to break.  He's butchered me, tormented me, and raped me countless times by now.  I may shed a few tears, sometimes even beg him to stop, but I always try to keep strong through it.  I won't let him win that easily.

He glares at me, his bloody hand suddenly reaching out to grab my chin.  He forces the knife into my mouth, pressing it on my tongue. "Now, you watch your mouth or I'll have to cut your tongue out." He threatens.

I don't move an inch, my eyes not blinking.  I don't want to take that chance that he's bluffing.  Chances are he's sick enough to cut off my tongue if he really feels like it.

"You going to keep your mouth shut?"

I nod, looking him in the eye with hate.

He removes the knife, "You know... You've got to be hungry, right?" He grins, "We can play a game... You've played it before. Keep your mouth shut and I'll give you food.  That means no screaming, cursing at me, or rude remarks."

I want to cuss him out, but my stomach growls and there's still a chance he'll cut my tongue out if I say anything rude.  So I keep quiet and only nod.

I'm silent when he cuts into me.  I'm silent when he burns me with a lighter.  I'm silent when he uses me.  I even manage to bite back any sounds when he beats me to a pulp on the floor and further damages my broken ribs.  But then, he disappears from my sight.

My eyes widen when he comes back with a hammer, placing a nail on my thigh.  I see his s**t-eating grin right before he hammers the nail into my flesh.  It hurts. it hurts so bad. My teeth bite right through my lip.  He places another nail, and repeats the torture.

It's then I realize... I was never supposed to win this game.

Author's Note

A/N: Yeahhh, soo... This entire chapter is seriously just Frey being relentless tortured. If you can't handle this, go ahead and skip it. You won't miss anything large to the plot other than this guy getting the unholy shit beat out of him.... Uhh... Yeah... I'm kind of ashamed of myself now... Yeah... I've watched too many slasher and snuff films lately... Sorry Frey...

And Yes, Yes. This chapter is excessively violent and graphic. This is a slasher novel based around serial killers, so don't complain that the slasher/horror novel with freakin' serial killers and sadistic fucks has too much violence.

Review if you like. Read previous chapters if you haven't already, elsewise, this won't make much sense and seem like torture porn. It isn't. It has meaning for the plot, and even I was uncomfortable writing and rereading this.