AUTHORS NOTE: So in this fic, Hiccup is 18. There's no precise time in the series/movies that it's located, so really all you need to know is that there are several different methods of torture included in this FanFiction (It's gonna be hard to explain my search history to my parents) including, but not limited to, Whipping, Sexual assault and Rape, and several others. There is cutting, but it is not self-inflicted, and is used as a method in interrogation. Most of the torture is inflicted on Hiccup, but is also inflicted on the other prisoners the Zalfari Tribe is holding captive.
"Get away from me, you prick!"
Hiccup jerked away from the strong hands pushing him backwards, unsuccessfully escaping the strangers' hold as he pushed himself into a wall. Turning his head, he found they were coming from every direction. He spotted a young girl, hardly older than ten, at the edge of the imposing crowd. Her dark green eyes were wide and haunted, her blond hair limp and lifeless from grease. What had they done to their own children?
"Don' 'ook at 'er!" Growled a large man with the same wide green gaze as the girl. "Runa! Go fin' Gro!" He shouted at the girl—his daughter, most likely.
Runa was gone in seconds, and Hiccup swallowed, looking around with wide eyes.
"I-I don't know what I did," he started, only to be cut off as an athletically built, much older man pushed past the green-eyed man who'd yelled at Hiccup earlier.
"You do not speak," he growled. "Ingi," he said to the green-eyed man. "Take the prisoner to the Cells. Throw him in with the others."
The others?! Hiccup thought, his voice high-pitched in his head. As he opened his mouth to speak his mind, a calloused hand wrapped around his forearm and pulled him violently to the side. As he let out a small gasp at the sudden movement, he noticed that Ingi had been the person to grab him.
"That girl, Runa," he began. "Is she your daughter?"
Ingi didn't speak, and as Hiccup began to wonder if the man was ignoring him, Ingi gruffly grumbled, "yes."
"Why isn't she healthy?" Hiccup demanded.
"Healthy?" Ingi scoffed. "She the hiccup of the Zalfari. She shoulda died in place of her mutha."
Hiccup's eyes widened. "Her mother's dead?"
"Yes, but why should you care?" Ingi growled.
"My moms dead too," Hiccup replied.
Ingi came to a sudden halt. He turned towards the teen. "She is? How'd she die?"
"A dragon killed her," Hiccup replied, before shutting up. He'd already said too much.
"Ah," Ingi said. "Dragons. Foul creatures, are they not? Always settin' things on fire."
"Uh, yeah, really. . . Really horrific creatures," Hiccup stuttered.
Ingi yanked on his arm as they resumed their walk. "Names' Ingi Bergvidsson. Wh's yurs?"
"Hi-Hiccup," he stammered. "Hiccup Haddock the Third."
"Hiccup, you say?" Ingi ran an appreciative eye down the boys' body, making him shiver in unease. "Well, at least we won't eat ya if ya die on us; too skinny."
"What?!" Hiccup exclaimed. Cannibalism? Can these guys be any worse?
"Ima jus' jokin' wi' ya," Ingi snickered. "Ain't gotta freak out. Ain't gonna do ya no good."
Hiccup swallowed. As he looked around, he realized they'd come to a stop in front of a large iron door.
"Gronckle iron," Ingi said, noticing the brunette inspecting the door. "Real useful, don't ya think?"
". . .yeah," he admitted reluctantly. They probably killed the Gronckle that gave them this iron. Meatlug would be furious.
Ingi slid the door open, and gestured inside. "Young'ins first."
Hiccup stepped forward, feeling the mans' leering eyes. As he fully entered, Ingi stepped in beside him, sliding the door shut behind them.
"This the Kids' Cells," he said. "Fin' an open cell, put everythin' ya got on ya on the bed, an' come back ou' here."
As Hiccup made his way down the corridor, he anxiously looked through the bars of each cell. A handmade drawing of a yak was scribbled on the wall in what looked like crimson paint in cell B1: an empty turtle shell was at the foot of the bed in B4: scratch marks that seemed to be tally marks was carved into the floor of B6. From what Hiccup could see that wasn't hidden by the bed and the table, there was thirty-four marks: a young child was rocking back and forth on his bed in B8. He looked up, his blue eyes widening as he saw Hiccup.
"No," he whined.
"Shut up, Perrine," growled the girl in B7, who looked older than the boy.
Reluctantly continuing his search, he came to a halt at B11. While the rest of the cells had carvings, pictures, or reminiscent things, likely from before they were imprisoned, this cell just had a skeleton laying on the floor. Hiccup stared in horror, his eyes widening as he realized it wasn't a skeleton, but merely a very pale, very gaunt, and very dead young male, if the horrible rotting stench making Hiccup's eyes water said anything.
"That's too bad," pouted Ingi.
Hiccup jumped, not realizing the man had followed him.
"Castor was a good kid," Ingi sighed. "Never tried to escape. Was always willin' ta le' me fuck 'im."
That's sick, Hiccup thought. The kid on the ground couldn't have been older than seven.
"How did you not notice this?" He demanded, staring at the man in disbelief. "This kids been dead for at least two days, if not four."
"A week, actually," mumbled Perrine.
"You, shut up," Ingi ordered. "And you, Hiccup, if I hear one more word outa yer mouth that ridicules me, ima rip that prosthetic leg right off, then chop off the rest o' ya leg. Should make a good meal. How 'bout 'hat, Perrine? Hiccup Stew sound good to ya?"
Perrine shuddered, curling into a tighter ball, if that was possible. Ingi shrugged, and looked at the girl. "How 'bout you, Ashley?"
"Why don't you cut off your dick and put that in a stew?" The girl spat. Her green eyes watered as she said it, tears slipping down her pale face.
Perrine lifted his head, staring at the girl in horror. Hiccup was in a similar state, glaring in disbelief. Both males' eyes snapped to the Zalfarian man.
Ingi slowly turned to face Ashley, his green eyes dark and blazing.