AN: Most. Have. Moar. ANGST.
It Stung.
The pain grows worse with every passing moment. It hurts so much, but not even a whimper escapes sealed lips. It was torture, the likes of which would forever be engraved in his memory. He staggers, the whips drenched in blood and vinegar strike his back again. His lips are pursed, his eyes closed. He would not let go of his honor, not even in the face of death. His pride wouldn't allow it.
It burned.
The iron left the fire and claimed his skin. Open wounds met fresh brand iron as he was marked. He did not cry out as the iron met his flesh, etching a reminder of this torture onto his every limb. His vision blurred with the immense pain his body was drenched with. The burning sent waves of agony throughout his body. Yet his captors were met with silence. He would not show them his pain.
Footsteps approached.
What next would they bring the swordsman? What new torture accompanied the heavy steps that approached his cage at Impel Down? A familiar scent rose to his nostrils, once that made his eyes widen in what? Shock? Betrayal? The cage was opened as a blonde stepped in, his smirk wide as the chained man lunged for him. His restraints kept the man alive. His eyes reflected the hurt, no the overwhelming emotion of betrayal as the chained man looked in the face of his lover.
And finally he snapped. His screams echoed through the walls as he finally stopped fighting. And as he leaves the realm of life the last memory with his beloved is the one thing he had left.
Pained Screams.
AN: Yep. Much better.