MD7 – the whole torture jazz… disclaimer: I don't own
El Diablo
'The Devil' he called you. El Diablo. Because you can't die, and he is a Catholic after all (and he is, despite what you do together. You know. You hear the clicking of beads at night.) And then there's the pain. It's bewildering at first, but then you give up trying to understand and you simply try your hardest not to feel. In the beginning, it wasn't the pain-and-the-blood-and-the-dying-again-and-again-and-again which was the worst part. No. it was knowing that he was watching. In the beginning that hurt you more than the knives and the bullets and the hate. Not for long, though. Soon enough, when the blood had dripped into your eyes one too many times for your mind to contain anything but the pain-and-the-blood-and-the-dying-again-and-again-and-again, you forgot who he was. And that was worse. Of course it was. Because then it was just you and the pain. And the thing moving in the dark.
At one point in that eternity (and yes, it was an eternity. An eternity longer than any you will be forced to live in ever again), in a brief moment of insanity (or was it lucidity?), you realised that you were the Devil. You must be. Why else would they punish you so? Only the devil could ever deserve a punishment like this. The Devil and you (because the moment had passed, and you were lucid again. Or were you insane?). You deserved this, of course you did. For all the people you'd hurt on a billion different planet in a million different times. For everything you've done. Because it's all your fault. You accept that, so now you can embrace the pain. Like an old friend.
But somewhere along the line, something changes. You don't know why, or even when, because you're so lost in the pain-and-the-blood-and-the-dying-again-and-again-and-again – make it stop! Please! Oh God, make it stop! (and yes, you pray to God. Because there must be a God. Because you're the Devil, El Diablo, remember?) – but there's a change. The thing in the dark. It's not waiting any more. And it's not just moving. It's moving closer. Each time you die, it's a little nearer to you. And you're terrified. But there's nothing you can do. and that's when you start to beg.
You beg them to stop, but they don't understand – how can they? They've never died before. But it's coming. So you beg for your life a million times over, but every time they kill you. They kill you so many times and oh God, it's so close. And you beg some more, and you think you lose your faith in the human race, because they don't stop. And now it's here. Oh God, it's here! Please! Stop! Don't make me go back there, please! Oh God, stop!
Thoughts?