Story Title: Only Slightly Tarnished
Chapter Title: Eternal Imprisonment
Author: Moony-Blues
Fandom: Tin Man
Prompt: Table 1:1 "Cell"
Character: Wyatt Cain
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 958
Summary: What really happened inside the Iron Maiden?
Warnings: This ficlet contains very dark themes, including rape. Proceed with Caution.

It was meant to be a permanent prison, this damnable cell made of metal and molded into the shape of a man. The Iron Maiden was the Sorceress' pride and joy, a self-contained stasis unit that bound a man in one place for all of eternity, allowing him neither rest nor death. He'd scratched and pounded at the hinged front of it until his fingers and knuckles bled, yet the steel was unyielding and unchanged. Even the bright red blood flowing from his hands left no blemish.

Tears ghosted down Wyatt Cain's cheeks as he watched the first loop of the hologram. He couldn't look away; the casket did not allow the freedom of movement to even turn his head. Closing his eyes, he still saw the images, still heard the screaming, still felt his heart rend. He clenched his jaw, which was still on fire from the beating he'd just received, and willed himself to be anywhere but there. He didn't need the images to remember every blow. He could count the bruises and broken bones just by feeling them.

The image suddenly shifted, the holo not following his struggle against the men who forced him into the Maiden. A lump of fire formed in his throat when he saw Zero turn his attention toward his wife. The evil twist of a smile forming on Zero's lips was unmistakable. Wyatt didn't need to see the Longcoat Captain unbuckle his belt to know what was going to happen next. But he did see it, no matter how tightly shut he clenched his eyes. He saw it all, from his Adora's horror stricken eyes set wide in fear to the gleeful satisfaction on Zero's face when she screamed as his men tore her skirt. It played out in his mind exactly as it did in the holo, poured into his perception by the same magic that would keep him alive to see this torture play out for all eternity.

A deep-throated roar of rage rose from his throat as he saw one of Zero's men push his son, Jeb, to his knees in the background and hold his head so that he, too, was forced to watch. The boy was terrified, his face pale as death and his eyes echoing hopelessness. Any rage from which Jeb had drawn strength at the beginning of the encounter had been beaten from him. Blood issued from a cut above his eye and a split in his lips; bruises had already begun to form on his arms and cheek.

Wyatt resumed his pounding on the metal, fighting desperately to get out. It was the only way that he knew how to deal with the rage, fear, despair and every other emotion that was piling up in his heart. He still saw the holo, but paid it no mind until he saw Zero dragging Adora and Jeb away. The words the man spoke to the boy, no doubt magically enhanced, chilled Cain's blood even more than the vacantly haunted expression on his beautiful wife's face.

I've been waiting a long time to do that…and someone else has been waiting longer to do you.

His family, his precious wife and son, were reduced to objects before his eyes, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Everything that he had done to protect them, joining the Resistance, moving them to a more secluded location, removing himself from them so they couldn't be used against him, it had all come to nothing. In the end, it didn't mean a damn.

Cain broke into sobs as the images briefly dissolved and Wyatt heard for the first time the loud clicking of the projector as it reset itself, preparing to play its gruesome loop again. His entire existence dissolved into despair. He couldn't shut his eyes, couldn't turn off the projector, couldn't beat his way to freedom. Helplessness and hopelessness had never settled well with him before, but now they felt like a dead weight wrapped around his ankles.

He lost track of time as he fought a battle in his mind to think of anything other than the scenes in front of him. Always a man of discipline, he'd never before found it hard to will his mind into submission. Then his body mercifully gave him something else upon which to focus his attention. Apparently, the magical stasis didn't prevent his feet from feeling the constant pressure of standing. Despite how trite and trivial it might have sounded to anyone else, he welcomed that pain. It was something normal in this hell of magical design.

He heard Adora scream again as Zero forced his way into her and though he refused to look up he saw every thrust. Oh gods! Please make it stop! If anything would destroy a man, it was this. He felt his heart being crushed, literally squeezed in a vise, the painful constriction laboring his breathing. His arms began to ache to hold his wife, to feel the comfort of her weight in them.

The days passed, and Wyatt tried to count them. He lost that battle after the first week. Nothing could hold back the images. Nothing could drown out the sounds. Nothing could stop the pain in his heart. Still the days passed, one by one, until he had no idea how long it had been since that horrible day.

Each time the holo looped, another piece of him died. Rage turned into a drive for revenge. Fear became compulsion. Despair burned into the ash of hopelessness. Every fiber of his being focused on a plan, a foolish, desperate gambit that he would carry out if he ever got the chance. He would make Zero pay, and pay dearly.

Author's Notes: I really debated about whether or not to post this ficlet, especially after reading one of the entries on tinman-meta on livejournal. However, my muse is rarely ever wrong, and she latched on to this pretty tightly after I found 10-prompts (also on lj) and claimed my table. I'm not entirely certain about the rating, but I'm calling it "M" just to be safe. Please don't "flay me like a munchkin."