By: Albedosreqium / Soyna
Disclaimer
All related Final Fantasy names and characters are copyrighted by the almighty Square Enix©.
TORTURE
Setting: Before Crisis Coreish
Warnings and Genre:
Rating is Mature because of violence
Random from cue's that I asked for to get out of my writers slump.
Summary:
Keywords used in this story: Tseng, Kadaj, Water, Kebab.
Tseng is very resilient to torture.
The slow drip of water was more painful than he could have ever imagined. Having his head pulled back and his hair nearly being pulled out of his head was enough to break other men. A black leather-gloved hand gripped his hair and held him in the painful position.
He could feel the cold tap of the wet icy water in the center of his forehead hitting his Bindi with frightening accuracy every time.
"Where's Mother?"
The silver-haired menace hissed into his ear. The only warmth that Tseng felt was from his breath. The leather-gloved hands did nothing to give the creature –- because that was the only explanation for what he was –- any sort of warmth.
"I don't know what you are talking about," Tseng said through clenched teeth. If he unclenched them he was afraid that he would scream and that was not dignified of a Turk to do so.
"Liar, Shin-Ra dog," the young silver-haired man said. Tseng could see the telltale green eye that had been a trademark of the elite SOLDIER; more of Hojo's toys coming to haunt them all.
It shouldn't have surprised him. Hojo had done a lot of things to try to achieve his perfection and the perfection that he sought in his victims. Here was another one of the many that had been affected by the mad doctor.
A drop hit his forehead again and he was forced to close his eyes before the icy liquid ran into them. He felt the water drip down his cheek into the cut that was there, causing the wound to burn with the cold.
"Just tell me!"
Tseng felt his hair being yanked and he couldn't help but scream as he was thrown against a nearby wall.
He wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball but that would be undignified. He looked up at his tormentor that was now tapping a dual bladed sword in his hand. One of his eyes was now hidden by the fall of silver hair. His youth did not hide the fact that he was a killer. Of course, it had never stopped Sephiroth from being a killer either.
He doubted that this shadow of the great man would be any different.
"Where's Mother!" the boy yelled in desperation. "We know you have her!"
Tseng didn't answer as he tried to get himself in a more dignified position, but every part of him ached and his head was pounding from the icy water.
"Do I have to turn you into a Turk kebab to get a satisfying answer out of you?" The voice was low and the sword was lowered. He looked like a predator and a snake, and every bit of a piece of the mad man that he resembled.
Tseng felt fear. He was not a man that easily succumbed to the feeling, but those were the same predatory eyes that once nearly killed him before with a much longer sword that just missed his heart. It was enough to make him wish he could scream and tell the mad man where his precious mother was.
But that was not what it meant to be a Turk.