The man that used to be a Turk named Vincent Valentine wept.
He wanted to sob, to give vent to the soul-searing agonies the mad professor was putting him through, but he didn't have the energy. Instead, the tears ran silently down his face to drip from his nose and chin to the floor.
"Crying again, Valentine?" Vincent's pain filled eyes flicked toward the doorway at Hojo's mocking voice.
Part of him recoiled at the sight of the man, his instincts telling him to run. Part of them told him to break free of his fear and kill the man. This time, like all the others, neither part won; he merely sat in broken agony and watched the creator of his torments.
"Don't you like the companions I've given you?" Hojo continued, referring to the voices—the demons—Vincent heard in his head now. "Or are you still crying for that monumentally stupid woman who left you for me?"
Yes, he still cried for those things, and for the child he could hear wailing now through the open door. He cried because everything the mad scientist had done to him was agony. He cried for the twisted evil that was Hojo, inflicted upon the Planet with no warning whatsoever.
"No," Vincent rasped, knowing that the answer would simply earn him more punishment at his tormentor's hands.
"No? Did you miss me then?" Hojo cackled madly, knowing that Vincent would have missed leprosy more than him.
"No," the Turk replied again.
"Then what?" The professor knelt in front of his prisoner, looking curiously into the other man's bloodshot eyes. "What could possibly elicit an emotional response from you when nothing I do will?"
Even if he had the energy to give more than one word answers, Vincent Valentine would never have explained that he was simply too proud to give the crazy scientist the satisfaction of seeing him break down again. The Turk stayed silent.
Hojo slapped him, sending Vincent's head rocking back on his neck, and a sharp wave of pain through what remained of his left arm at the motion. "If you refuse to tell me, then I suppose I'll just have to give you something to cry about."
Vincent didn't have long to wonder what Hojo was going to do to him now. The professor moved behind him, pulling off his lab coat as he walked. The Turk's fear spiked as he heard the sound of a zipper coming down and a rustling of cloth.
A soft puff of air brushed against Vincent's body—long since void of clothing—as Hojo's slacks fell to the floor. All of his instincts screamed at him to do something—anything—to get away from what was about to happen. Even the demons in his head railed against what they all knew Hojo was about to do.
Knowing it was going to happen did not make the agony any less when Hojo finally thrust violently into him. Vincent screamed, straining against his bonds and somehow finding the energy to try to pull away from the sadistic madman.
"There now," Hojo said, pulling out and thrusting back in sharply. "I knew it was just a matter of finding the right stimulus."
The demons screamed at Vincent to let them free, outraged at this violation of their new host. The gunslinger wanted to—was trying to—as the mad scientist cheerfully raped him, but his broken body would not respond to their demands.
He whimpered, fresh tears spilling hotly from his eyes, as Hojo reached around him and grasped his manhood firmly. "See how much easier this would have been if you had just given in sooner?" The scientist asked, stroking him to hardness.
Vincent moaned, a sound of mixed pleasure and shame, as the professor tricked his body into enjoying this latest of torments. His shame increased when he thrust back weakly against Hojo's member, instinct taking over from rational thought.
Vincent's responses seemed to be what the scientist desired; Hojo's thrusting became harder and faster. Breath hissed through his clenched teeth as he drove himself into the Turk, taking pleasure from the other man's pain.
A moment later, it was over. Vincent felt Hojo release, and even through his anger and shame he found a small amount of disdain that the scientist hadn't been able to last any longer. Hojo took no time to finish seeing to his unwilling partner's pleasure.
The mad professor chuckled as he dressed and quit the room, leaving Vincent hanging from the bonds that held him in the room. Semen and blood dripped from his abused anus. A myriad of emotions flitted through his head, shame and anger still dominant.
And the man that used to be a Turk named Vincent Valentine wept.