Warning: contains rape.
Sometimes one or two Revengencers shared the job of monitoring the captives, but for the most part Magnus did it all on his own. Increasingly, he garnered the impression that the man with the metal mask expected no more from him by way of ability or contribution. Forging an alliance against Dethklok seemed more. . .romantic, when first approached. And now here Magnus stood amongst the rats and spiders, just as much a prisoner as Toki and Abigail, and smelling just as badly.
He'd grown bored quickly of tormenting them. They no longer said anything when denied food for days on end, or when being forced to eat from a dog bowl. Toki already went through a load of bullshit in his life, as he so easily offered as information early into their quasi-friendship, and Abigail, having dealt with dicks and assholes all throughout her career, remained resilient. A few weeks of captivity elevated her bravery to the point of dishing as much as she took. Magnus allowed it only for the fact that he loved women like her: strong but ready to be broken. Like everything else though, that grew old too.
"Hey, what's you doing?" Toki lifted his head off the floor, rat shit matted into his hair.
Moving Abigail across the room offered little fight, thus far; Magnus rearranged them often, depending on when and how rain pooled into his makeshift dungeon. Only when Magnus secured the woman to the floor did she make enough of a peep for the Norwegian to rouse.
"Get your hands off me!" Abigail attempted to shift away, though weakness reflected in a vocal crack. She turned her face and clenched her legs shut as her skirt climbed to her hips. "Toki, help. . ."
"Magnus, be reasonables. Why you gots to do that for, huh?" Dethklok's rhythm guitarist's voice climbed in speed, pitch, and desperation. "Come on, don'ts do that, we. . .you hasn'ts even let us bathe, how coulds you want it, huh?"
Magnus didn't give a flying fuck about that. Grime darkened Abigail's skin, along with the leg and pubic hair she had no chance to maintain. That only made it better, in a way; same too, for her stubbornly magnetized knees and weak thrashing. She cried out when abated strength offered her assailant whiff of unwashed underwear. Hoarse pleading from the other side of the room fell on deaf ears.
Abigail's voice hitching before a cringe of pain hushed him. "Look away!"
Toki obeyed, facing the opposite wall and covering his ears. Attention falling back on Abigail, Magnus measured the fight in her body before it finally relinquished all to him. Sadly, every following occurrence offered a smaller window of allure. It eventually came to the point where Toki rolled into familiar, trembling form as Abigail let her legs fall open. Her ass offered temporary reprieve, especially since Magnus could bully Toki into offering up a glob of spit under premise that it would make it easier for her.
His lip curled as she fell prostrate with his presence, one rainy, early September day. "You think I want that nasty snatch? You're bleeding all over the place."
"Means she nots pregnant, I guess." Leaned against the wall, Toki's gaze didn't waver from an indiscernible spot on the floor. Ever since Magnus' first conquest over Abigail, the Norwegian refused to make eye contact with him. "So there's. . .the bright side."
Magnus shrugged. Fucking Toki, still looking for the silver lining in everything. While Abigail became a silent shell of her former self, that doofus possessed stubborn hope. A later retreat upstairs for food left Magnus in a state of quiet consideration. Even telling Toki all about the band carrying on as if nothing even happened couldn't put that light out. Maybe he approached it the wrong way. With Abigail out of commission for a few more days anyway, Magnus wouldn't mind a new ass to surmount.
He already grew half-hard in anticipation as he descended the stairs. His footsteps echoed off the wall, his upbeat whistling doubly so. He'd never thought about fucking a dude before, but something in Toki inspired a lick of fire in his loins. The Norwegian's brand of naivete didn't belong in this world; only with its extinguishment could Magnus feel at ease in such a God-forsaken hellhole.
However, he paused as he stepped into the room. Abigail peered back from the shadows across the way, but. . . "Where did Toki—?"
An eruption of pain and stars in his vision sent Magnus to the floor. Knocked into dizziness, Abigail spun about his vision. He hardly registered a malevolent croak and spittle against his ear; however, the sting of his scalp confirmed his suspicion that Toki held him up by his hair. "How coulds you do this to us, huh? You were supposed to be my friend! You's more evil than you even brags to be. Maybes we can't escape, but that don'ts mean you aren'ts going to get a taste of your own medicine."
"Toki, wait," Abigail spoke up. "Don't do that. He might've done us wrong, but don't lower yourself to his level."
"Is that's you talking, or the parts he rape into submission?" The Norwegian shot back. "No. I nots putting up with this no more. You can'ts reason with this guy. The only way to gets through to him is to makes him feel as shittys as we has."
Panic attempted to break free of Magnus' head injury, but he couldn't gather his wits. Despite being starved, Toki yielded the upper hand after somehow worming free of his restraints. Maybe someone would come and tear them apart if Magnus screamed loudly enough. Forgetting pride in the face of unbidden sodomy, he let his throat go hoarse. The Revengencers grew used to these sorts of noise filtering up through the floor, though; a couple of Magnus' fingernails snapped off against cracks in the concrete. Pain didn't even begin to describe what engulfed his entire body. Just when he thought he'd reached the limit on how much he could experience, violent rocking proved otherwise.
"Blood don'ts work half-bad, as lube," Toki grunted between thrusts. "How's it feel, getting what you deserve? Piece of fuckings shit."
The only way Magnus could tell the difference between it currently happening and Toki having finished was relented pressure holding his face into the ground. Unable to handle the extent of the assault, light-headedness preceded a darkened world. When Magnus awoke, a dim lightbulb dangled above and a couple slick-haired Revengencers with surgeon masks bent over him. ". . .stitching's done, and the swelling's coming down on his head. . .might be best that he don't eat until the fissures heal, can't really afford an infection."
"And you're saying the prisoner did this?" That low, gravelly voice could only belong to one person.
"They found him with blood caked in his pubic hair, so it could only be."
"We're lucky they didn't escape, if he managed to free himself."
"I don't think that was the point."
While Magnus struggled against the cramps, tenderness, and throbbing aches all throughout his body, those with the surgical masks departed. Instead, a metal mask and white hair came into view. While the man said nothing, Magnus ground out his words through clenched teeth. "Thirst for revenge is what we have in common."
The assassin gave a single nod.
"You'll let me do whatever I want to him?"
"The prisoners have always been your domain."
"Good."
That alone calmed Magnus. No matter what he underwent, the prospect of inflicting vengeance sated him. A few weeks later, as he finally managed to heal his way out of the Revengencers' makeshift hospital, he found Toki and Abigail hanging upon a pair of inverted crosses. The woman averted her gaze and swallowed hard as he approached, but the Norwegian, emitting an air of boredom, held Magnus' good eye. Even display of a whip similar to the one Reverend Wartooth once brandished only pursed Toki's lips.
"You're going to regret what you did there, buddy."
"Whatsever. Brings it on, asshole. I's not afraid of you."