Will not speak

Sort of.

Foreword:

This is sort of a torture one shot and a plot bunny ran in my head and For Freedom an Avatar Fanfiction by Mizu Iruka wasn't making the problem better. It made my stomach scream, "Write It!" Sooooo I decided to write this creepy (I think) one shot about Zuko getting tortured for some horribly random reason, incredibly random and the best I've ever been when it comes to imagery…. ._. :3 umm, hope you like it? Sort of.

Three days after

Zuko had to grit his teeth, again. despite the fact he practically couldn't feel the pain anymore. He sucked in a breath as something hot flashed across his bare back and stung him. Again it happened and this time

something warm trickled and slid down his side onto the metal floor.

"Are you getting tired of playing games Zuko?"

A voice slithered into his thoughts that

Voice he hated so much that if his body weren't stretched from the arms, he would rip the body of that voice limb by limb. He sucked in a painful breath and made a strange noise in his throat.

"I guess that means no,"

He didn't know whether it was fire or knife, pain flared on his back and he struggled to stay still. It was all numb, numb but he can feel it, something that the body did not like. He stared at the floor colors flashing across his eyes, burning into his retinas. He remembered every color since the first time those colors came across his eyes to visit him. It's only been four days since the day it happened… he hated thinking about that day, but still it comes back to haunt him, a memory that will float in his mind forever, into his subconscious, into his daydreams, drifting onto every lane in his world. It's hard to forget bad memories, and hard to remember good ones, you can only remember tidbits and moments of the good ones, photos help you boost up your good memories.

The voice that talked to him was sickeningly female, a crazy voice, and a voice that belonged to someone who belonged in an asylum.

Yet that voice is still here, he can still hear that voice, and he still hates that voice so bad, it can make him as equally crazy.

Problem is, he knew that voice for years, and he could tell if the voice was stressed or happy, or mad, or sad, all of the voice patterns were predictable.

He thought of other voices that talked to him, he liked this one voice, it was female just like the voice that was tormenting him now, but this voice was softer, nicer, and to him, much smarter.

"Are you going to talk to me Zuzu?" The voice sneered, "It would be dreadful if you don't talk to me,"

Silence.

"I said talk to me!"

Zuko couldn't speak; he couldn't move, his stomach convulsed with a dread that she'll find out where they are just by the slight movements he did in his chains. These chains certainly weren't in fashion from his point of view they made his skin raw and flayed.

It certainly wasn't pleasant.

Finally a weird burden lifted and Zuko sort of found the will to speak to his captor, hoarse, broken words escaped his lips, and it was a chore to form his lips, so he can start to speak.

"N-no,"

There was a brief silence, and his back flared once again, he couldn't feel the pain, to him it just wasn't there.

"No, huh? You won't speak to me? That is just so sad and pathetic," Those were only words; she didn't think it was sad, she didn't think it was pathetic…

To him those were only words.

Ah, but words can end up as actions, so sad and pathetic that she'll be able to simply kill you.

Zuko knew Princess Azula was someone who didn't pity, who didn't feel, she was precise and sharp, and dangerous…. deadly.

He had the gall to call her a sister?

Once, he once called her a sister, not too long ago he admired her…then it all changed she was a killer and the fire nation was purely pathetic.

He was lightheaded and he can barely think, he looked down and saw dark red staining the floor. "Tsk, tsk poor Zuzu lost some blood, I think he can cope after all he isn't weak is he?" She said this more to herself than to her.

He couldn't respond to such a side question, he knew the answer to that question.

He wasn't weak, he knew it, inside of him he wasn't weak. He was strong in mind and body, teaching the Avatar gave you these abilities. Having a pure hearted mother also gave you these abilities: to feel strong and to feel itself. These abilities were well controlled and made him more honorable than any other Fire Nation citizen ever lived in this one hundred year war.

He just wished to see it in others after the war.

-Dis is a line-

Well that is it. I don't want to go on. Much too lazy. * yawn * I hope you guys have thoughts on this. I have to admit Mizu Iruka's For Freedom was a thrilling tale. It inspired me.

I'm such a sucker for fanfictions I think is good. If you are reading this you need more recognition.

;) good day to you all.