Christophe jerked his head to the side to see where the voice that was ever so calm was coming from. Currently, he was strapped down to a board like table, shirt removed to reveal all his scars that lead down, down, down to his feet even.
"Christophe, I bet you never thought this day would come, hm?" He blinked slowly, gritting his teeth.
"Who ze fuck are you." He snapped. The voice appeared again.
"I wouldn't be so harsh." "And why ze fuck not!" The voice didn't respond this time. But Christophe's screams were heard from miles away. Shocks and electricity filled his body. He jolted up as far as he could. Finally, it stopped. He panted heavily and his face was pale. "Now do you see why?" This time it was Christophe who didn't respond. The dim light that illuminated the room flickered every now and then. And he saw a figure approach him. TO the side he could see a table that held multiple sharp looking objects.
"Who are you."
He could muster up a pathetic sentence.
"You won't live to find out."
The figure's voice was harsh. And it wasn't like the one heard before. There was a black mask over his face. He picked up one of the many silver tools on the table and examined it. "Would you like to pick the first one? OR should I?" He chuckled quietly and placed it down, picking up something that looked like a knife. Resembled one anyway. Without any warning, he raised it and pinned Christophe's arm down, stabbing it into the flesh. it went through bone and everything, sticking into the other side of the table.
"Agh!" THe brunette screamed, his body jolting up yet again.
The figure chuckled and placed a hand over the Frenchman's mouth. "Sh, Christophe your screams won't be heard."
"E-Ergh.."
He picked up a hammer from the table and took a step back to the brunette's legs. He raised the hammer, bringing it down hard on Christophe's red leg.
"Stop, fuck please!"
He cried out, his eyes screwed shoot. The figure only brought it down harder and quicker. Until his bone cracked. He then did the same to the other leg. Welp, he could forget about leaving now. Was he really dying here? BEfore he could finish anymore thoughts, more shocks ran through his body when he least expected it and he was restricted from screaming. Oh, this all hurt. So so bad. The figure then moved back to Christophe, taking an actual knife and plunging it into Christophe's side, dragging it downwards. He wasn't lasting much longer. He then left the knife at his hip bone and took and scalpel and dragged it down the brunette's cheek, forcing it through until it was literally inside his mouth. Christophe didn't even bother to scream. Without anymore warning the figure took the knife out of his side and struck Christophe's heart. The Frenchman stopped moving and breathing. Though.. He didn't seem to end up in Hell. Or Heaven.
What had he done to earn this? Well, he'd done extremely horrendous shit. But he's also done good. And now.. He was gone.