Shiro sat down in the blackened metal chair with a frustrated sigh. He looked up while rubbing his eyes, the whole toll of the day was starting to get to him and he felt like he was going to pass out at any second. Shiro had been at this for hours and seemed not to be getting anywhere at all. His bright blue eyes set on the man before him, a face distorted in a cry of pain and frustration looked back at Shiro as he sat in his charcoal stained seat. Shiro looked silently at the man across from him, the man was young maybe in his mid twenties; he wore tattered brown clothing and worn sandals, the attire of the common trader. But at the current moment his clothes were spotted with red, the collar of his shirt, which used to be a deep brown, was now such a rich crimson that one could hardly believe it was any other color before.
The man's hands lied behind his back, set against the metal chair that he was sitting on. Compared to the blackened one Shiro now sat, the man's was stained a dark red from past use. The man cried out as he moved his arms, trying to get them out from behind him, but he was met with only a tough resistance of threaded rope. The man's wrists fought against the restraints, splitting open old scabs and letting loose another flow of blood leaking onto the threads that bound him, dying them the same color of his shirt collar. Once he accepted the fact his hands were not going anywhere, the man simply slumped against the back of the chair, his head sagging and his eyes starring down at the floor.
He didn't move for a few seconds, his face still bearing the pain he felt both on his body, and inside himself, but as everything started to sink in again he burst into a torrent of sobs and tears. The man shuddered violently with every breath he took and salty water and spit leaked down onto the floor underneath him, mixing in with his own crimson life force changing it into an eerie pink shade. The man cried for a minute before he looked back up at Shiro, he looked at him with a pleading face, which Shiro returned with only an impassive stare.
" p'eash.. p'eash... wat du you want? I 'on't know anythin'. 'et me go!"
The man's voice was mixed in with the blood that leaked from his mouth and made him hard to understand. But Shiro understood him perfectly, and he was getting tired of this man's games. Shiro stood up from his chair, the metal legs scraping against the concrete floors of the room and making a hollowed echo through the chamber. Shiro leaned down looking the man in the eye. Shiro saw true pain and despair, but for a split second a flicker of defiance and resolute determination filtered into the trader's gaze. Shiro narrowed his eyes and stepped away from him.
Shiro had tried almost everything; he had been at it since the trader was brought in four and a half hours ago. But this one seemed to have more then a set determination, that was another reason behind why he was still holding his information. And Shiro was the one who had to find out what it was. But so far he had not gotten anything out of him at all. Four hours of tiring work and yet he was still having to try more, Shiro never had this problem, they usually give up at the hour mark; they usually stopped when Shiro pulled the bones of their legs out from the inside to show them what they looked like.
He usually started with the normal; entering the room with silence, moving over to the far table and picking up a kunai, then walking over and driving the blade point first into their thigh making sure to shatter the femur at the same time. They would almost always pass out from the sudden pain, after all, breaking the femur was the worst pain a human could physically feel, but Shiro would start to grind the kunai while it was stuck in their leg, mixing the bone fragments with the muscle tissue to get them awake. Then, watch the blood geyser from their flesh and spray along the floor.
Though this was just to get their attention, no questions would come just yet. The next task was to skin them alive. Using only a specially designed thin knife, Shiro would cut into their toes and sheer away the muscles and flesh from the bone, making sure to do each of their toes slowly, doing the best job he could to cut the most nerves in the sensitive areas.
By this time the room would fill with the victim's yells and cries of agony. Though the walls of this torture chamber where four feet thick, and forty feet underground, no one would hear them, it was certain. Shiro actually usually enjoyed the shouts and tears he created; it meant he was doing his job correctly. The agonized yells of his subjects is what let him move on to the next task, and once Shiro had successfully pulled the skin back from their ivory skeleton up to the heel of their foot. He would leave the room. Though only for a few seconds, soon after Shiro would bring himself back through the doorway and pull a small bag from his person, holding it over his victim's feet he would dump the contents over their exposed flesh and bone, covering the area with billions of tiny crystals of sodium chloride.
Then the questions would begin, and when Shiro did not hear the answers he wanted, and he always did, a sandaled foot would press down on their salt covered wounds, grinding the ionic pain inducers further into the red soaked bone and deep into the soft flesh. Such things would go on, and Shiro would have to up the previous level, but now he stood facing the door of his favorite chamber at a total loss.
This man was starting to beat him, Shiro had pulled out every trick he had in his bag, the only reason the trader was still alive was simply because Shiro always had a medic-nin outside on hand just in case. Though as well Shiro always was placed under a genjutsu before the start of his work, otherwise the blood shed would bring about entirely new problems. Shiro turned around starring at the man with the deepest thought... he was the biggest challenge he has ever had.
" Ok, one last time, you were caught inside the Kensei main compound, with scrolls from our library in your hand. Who the fuck sent you there, and what did they want?"
Of course the man only looked up at Shiro, sobbing as mucus and spit flowed down his face. Though other then that, there was nothing else the man seemed to have to say…
Shiro sighed, and walked slowly back over to his table with his equipment. He ran a gloved hand along each one; the stained metal glimmered from the light set over the work area. Shiro peaked back over his shoulder at the man who was again slumped over in his chair.
He had used every tool he had on this table And he was at a loss as what to do next. Shiro was always the last request, the one who was called in when every other try failed. Genjutsu, induced hypnosis, or what other methods the less effective interrogators the Kensei had. But with Shiro now failing it was a wonder if this guy was able to be broken.
Shiro picked up his bone saw, a serrated tanto made especially strong to be able to cut through almost anything, then Shiro picked up a normal senbon. If he couldn't have this guy spill his information from causing pain through injury, then he would just have to go straight to the source, this was something he never did before, and he was unsure if the man would even survive.
Shiro thought about the chances of loosing the target, and then quickly went to the door and unlocked the door. He peeked outside in to the darkened hallway where a masked shinobi stood waiting.
" I will need you in immediate standby… this shit is getting ugly."
The Shinobi paused for a moment then nodded, following Shiro back into the room. Shiro gently closed the large steel door, and placed the long metal bar into its locked position. Then turning around Shiro looked at the Medic-nin and then at his victim. He hoped that this shinobi was advanced enough for this… or really, it didn't matter. Shiro was the last line, if he didn't get anything out of this guy… then he was worthless. Shiro stepped out behind the man as he sat in the chair.
The man began to shuffle around, eying, the long tanto Shiro held with a scarred look. It seemed that the sudden change in tactic that Shiro was changing began to make him anxious… that was good. Shiro looked at the serrated blade in his left hand, the tainted red sheen of the metal danced as it reflected from the light that hung above Shiro's victim.
His lips turned up into a smile as he thought about what he was about to do. He always enjoyed this part of the job, the thrill of the unknown, the uncertainty of wither his next action would mean life or death for his subject, and now this was the most extensive method of torture that Shiro has thought of yet.
Shiro set the cold steel of the tanto against the side of the man's face, he jumped a bit, causing his badly bruised cheek to form a cut on the side, puss and blood leaked from the wound in a fast rate. The deep red ran down his pale skin and fell to the floor, hitting the tiles and adding to the already painted flooring of the torture room. Shiro watched this intently, though of course, due to the genjutsu he was under, the blood was a blue color, everything on the floor and around him was blue., his blades blue. He missed the true sensory of the torture, but it would have to wait.
" This will only hurt a lot more.. trust me. In fact, this will be the worst pain you could ever fucking imagine, I guarantee it."
With these words said Shiro set the blade of the Tanto right up to the line of his hair, he would be needing a clear look at what he was doing so he didn't kill this man to soon. Which meant, all the hair in his way... would have to go. Shiro Pressed the blade tip into the skin of the man, piercing into the organic layers with ease until he hit a hard surface, the man's skull. Shiro slid the blade across the bone, slicing slowly through the flesh of the man's scalp alone his forehead.
A crimson waterfall sprouted fourth from the wound as blood began to flow down in immense amounts, covering the man's entire face red. The thick liquid stuck in his eyelashes and leaked deep into his eyes, flooding his eyes sockets with warm life force. A metallic taste filled his senses as the reddened water slipped into his mouth as he yelled in profuse pain.
The bare skin of the forehead was easy enough to cut through, but Shiro had to work a bit once he hit the hair line on the side of his head. Now simply sliding the tip of the blade around the skull was not going to work. Shiro bite his lip and then grinned, he already had what he needed. Re-angling the tanto Shiro set the serrated edge on the hair line of his victim. Then with fluid motions he ran the tanto back and forth, tearing into the flesh until he again felt the hard bone of his skull. The fold of his victim's removed skin flapped erratically back and fourth, creating almost a fan that sprayed out blood across the room like a sprinkler. Dots and splashes of dark red began to coat the walls of the chamber, and the Medic-nin got a light coat of paint on all of his clothing and mask as he watched the gruesome display.
"AAAAGH, P'EASH… STOB! P'EASH!"
The Trader began to yell and scream as he started to taste, hear and barely.. See his own torturing. He watched as his own liquid life force coated the room he was trapped in and the man that was watching it. He started to shake and move frantically, in his attempt to get away, but the ropes held him fast and he only succeeded in only causing more pain as Shiro's Tanto slipped, tearing off his ear in the chaos. Shiro only began to laugh as his Victim attempted his escape and shouted out his pleas. It was to late for that. Shiro was going to get down to business. Evil chuckles filled the room as his laughs got louder, until finally the entire chamber echoed with the hysteric shrill of Shiro's voice.
" This shit is so much fun isn't it…. Tell me, tell me how much fun it is."
Shiro laughed through his words as he began to lightly dance along with the back and fourth sawing motion of his Serrated blade. He loosened skin of the mans scalp still sprayed red everywhere, and Shiro was so far at the process that he himself was beginning to have a nice color change to his clothes. His face was spotted with bloody freckles as he enjoyed his fun.
" P'eash.. P'eash… PLEASE!!"
The Medic-nin standing by twitched a movement closer to the man and Shiro. This made Shiro stop his dancing and his sawing and look up. Shiro's eyes changed from hysterical enjoyment, to unreal anger and vexation. Shiro slid his blade from the folds of flesh it had been cutting and held it up, pointing the dripped tip at the Medical-nin.
" Move another fucking inch and your going to be next, understood?"
The Medic-nin stood rigid and Shiro could see utter terror in the eyes behind his mask. The shinobi gave an almost invisible nod and went stone-still. Shiro smiled and then went back to work, tearing through the skin and hair of the trader's head, sheering it all the way down to the bone. The man continued with this high pitched cries of agony for the rest of the two minute process, until finally Shiro let the Tanto fall to his side…the man gave out one last shudder and then passed out from lose of blood.
Shiro peeled back the scalp of his victim removing the skin and hair from his head. He held the hunk of flesh in his hand and then tossed it away, the scalped skin hitting the wall, splattering blood further across the surface and then slid down the smooth wall to the ground, leaving a well set trail in its wake…
Shiro looked down at the ivory bone that was now exposed, he tapped it with his senbon creating a ringing thud almost of metal on wood. Shiro looked up to the Medic-nin and nodded, walking away from the trader and standing back at his table, concentrating over his tools and toys. The Medic-nin moved in, quickly healing the mans bleeding wounds, and even pulling fourth bags of blood, replacing the large amount that he had lost, in order to keep him from dieing. Shiro wiped clean the blood from his Tanto. Even though it made quick work of the flesh of his Victim's skin, it would be put to the test for its next attempted feat. Bone is hard, and even though metal is sharp, Shiro would have to work for this one.
Shiro finished cleaning off his toy, setting down a blood covered rag and then turning back to the medic-nin and the trader, Shiro looked at the both of them for a minute, the man sitting the chair, tired and hungry, the Medic-nin, painted in the blood of the person he was treating. It was a nice sight, a rare, but a pleasant situation to Shiro. He whistled a cheery tune as he walked back over to the man tied in the chair.
The medic-nin looked up from his work and then nodded to Shiro. Stepping back the shinobi gave Shiro his room. Bright blue eyes scanned the weakened trader over, he seemed to be healed enough, and the ghostly pale look he had was gone from the blood transfusion he just received.
Shiro bent down, and raised a gloved hand, and brought it hard against the man's face, a resounding smack filled the air and the trader bolted back to life, his eyes darting everywhere then setting on Shiro. The confused look from his face disappeared and was instantly replaced with terror, Shiro smiled and walked over to the far wall, he bent down, picking up the heap of flesh he had tossed over earlier from his hard work.
He then went back to his victim and pulled his Blackened chair in front of him again. Shiro sat down in it and tossed the scalp of the man across from him up and down. The man followed it with wide, bloodshot eyes, with the interest of someone watching the carcass of a person being ravaged by some sick and demented individual. Shiro stopped and threw it on the trader's lap. Then yelled and began to squirm, apparently attempting to get away from his own flesh by all means. Shiro smiled and leaned closer…
" Alright then, one more chance until I crack open your fucking skull and really start to show your ass what pain is…. Who are you…. And the fuck sent you?"
The trader looked up to Shiro, a tear rolling down his stained cheek, turning red half way down the man's skin before falling on to the matted and hair covered heap of flesh that sat on his lap. He sucked in a breath, a broken hiccup of a break made itself as he started to sob again.
" P'eash, I 'on't 'now an'thing. I jus' though' I could ge' some money f'om the-"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP! I am tired or your shit, and since you won't just tell me the truth… your ass is going to be asking whatever god you have to "P'eash save me"! You Bitch are going to be put through so much shit that the hell I send you to will feel like paradise when compared to me!"
Shiro stood up and kicked his chair out from underneath him, it tumbled backward with a loud clank and slammed against Shiro's torture table, the whole thing fell over, spilling out the dozens of metal contraption Shiro had on to the floor with a mess clinking rings on the hard floor. The room when silent as the echo of dropping blades filled the room and then slowly faded. Shiro stepped out behind the trader, his feet splashing in the large crimson puddle beneath his feet almost like the small drops of rain before the storm.
Shiro set his Tanto against the ivory bone of his victim and then with a large smile, began to run the serrated edge back and fourth against the surface. A terrible screeching resonated through the torture room as Shiro began to saw through the man's skull. A cloud of white dust started to form as bone fragments where sent into the air, yet Shrio kept moving. The trader shook violently in his chair as the motion of the sawing blade dragged his head back and fourth.
This process was much quicker, as Shiro was vigorously working at this point, in fact it was almost a minute before Shiro let his tanto drop and splash into the puddle of liquid life that he had created. With a smile He stuck his senbon in between the crevice of bone Shiro had cut. With a jerk of his arm a loud crack sounded, almost as if Shiro had somehow brought in a tree and broke it in half inside the room. The man cried out and more tears started to form at his eyes.
Shiro looked at the small dome of white material he held in his hand, it was surprisingly beautiful. He turned over in his hands, looking at in the light from different angles, then he cast it away, throwing to the floor, making a small click as it went from each tile to another, it went on for some time as the only source of sound and everyone's attention drawn to it until it stopped its travel, hitting the medic-nin's feet with hollow thud.
The Medic-nin jumped back from the skull piece as it hit his sandal, his mask falling off of his face and falling to the floor landing on the ivory bone. The Medic-nin looked up to Shiro, his face distorted in fear and obvious disgust, a picture that showed that he thought what he saw was most certainly and completely repugnant, though was not going to do anything about it, or say anything to Shiro. Instead, he simply looked down at his mask, not even willing to bend down to pick it up in fear of touching the white bone that sat next to it. Shiro laughed and looked at him with pity.
"You don't know how to have fun Taoru... you need to get into the spirit. Learn to fucking live, really dig deep in life."
As he said the word 'dig', Shiro pointed his senbon and shoved the needle down into the brain of his victim, sending the cold steel into the very pain receptor of the brain, causing the trader to instantly sob uncontrollably as sheer agony coursed through him, tears flooding his face as he tried terribly to break his restraints that held him to get away. Shiro dug he needle even deeper, moving it around to induce even more misery, his lips curling into a smile and letting loose a high shrill laugh as he watched his victim squirm, his entire being flooding with sheer amusement.
" Tell me, tell me now, who the fuck sent you?"
The trader simply continued to cry as he was put into his worst imaginable nightmare, though he could only spit out incoherent sounds and sputters of mucus and saliva. The words were mixed and jumbled and Shiro could not make anything of them.
" I... din'... the 'ight... eh't 'as on'y prrf't. No on' ses' me."
He jammed the needle even further, sending the steel point almost an inch into the trader's brain. The jumbled sounds he spat through his teeth were useless to Shiro, and the only way to get a real answer from him at this point was to bring up such torment that his mind snapped into perfect function just to end the agony. Shiro moved the needle around some more, and the man's entire body shuddered uncontrollably in response. The trader began to make an attempted escape with such force that it caused Shiro to slip his hand, forcing the needle deep into his brain and striking the other side of his skull. The momentum continued, and the metal slid up the wrinkled white surface, dragging a large chunk of bleeding pink flesh with it.
A small handful of gore flew out of the man's skull and fell on the floor with a loud splatter, and the trader slumped back into the chair and ceased to move. Blood proceeded to squirt from the brain matter of Shiro's victim, leaving a large splash of crimson on the wall and floor behind him. The long stream of liquid then slowed down until it stopped completely, but not until it succeeded in nearly flooding the entire section of the chamber, creating a lake of thick red that reached up to Shiro's toes, sending a flood of warmth through his feet which made Shiro only chuckle loudly as he reflected on the exhilarating experience he just had.
He moved around the dead body he had just manifested, his feet splashing in the bleeding lake beneath him and stopped in front of the overturned table which housed his now pile of metal toys and blades. Shiro dropped his senbon into the pile with a loud clank, and slipped off his gloves throwing them to the floor. Shiro looked at the serrated tanto in his hand for a moment and then slid it into the band of his waist pouch. He walked over to the door of the torture chamber and slid open the large bolt. Walking over to the door of the torture chamber, he slid open the large bolt then opened the door into the dark hallway, taking a step out.
Shiro paused for a moment and looked back, his bright blue eyes scanning over the room carefully, watching the Medic-nin that stood frozen in front of him, starring at the dead trader's body in apparent amazement. Shiro looked over to his now unmoving victim, the peek of pink brain matter showing just out of his cut open scalp and his legs, arms, and feet completely mangled and deformed, the once brown clothing, forever stained red from the past pain and agony of his five hour misery. Shiro then scanned the room itself, the floor, covered in an almost fourth-inch puddle of blood then massed beneath his victim's chair, and the walls, once cold gray stone, now a painted crimson, showing only few spots in far off areas that hinted at any chance of a once non-blood coated chamber.
Shiro then stepped into the hallway, his mind clear of any possible remorse or mental suffering from what he had just done. In fact, just as his figure disappeared into the shadows of the narrow passage a mutter escaped his lips that traveled into the room before him and amplified enough just to be heard....
" Pity... looks like he didn't even now anything after all.…"