Told you I could do it faster! Poor Alec, I love him but things aren't looking too good for him... I love writing from Alec's perspective, hope you like it too :)
Alec awoke slowly. He couldn't make out his surroundings, all he saw was black. He could feel an ice cold stone floor beneath him and shivered involuntarily. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, so he was just able to make out his surroundings. He was in a tiny, gray stone room, curled up in a ball on the floor. The room was so small he had to lie in uncomfortable positions just to be able to sleep: he couldn't lie flat out on his back like he normally did; his body was bigger than the width of the room.
He sat up slowly, confused. He recognised the room, but couldn't remember why or how he had come to be in here. Looking up at the small square of moonlight coming in through the window he saw the bars and felt sick. God, he could remember why was here now. There was a throbbing on his forehead. He touched it, cautiously, and it came back red and sticky. The wound he had received when they dragged him from Magnus' house had reopened in the night. His muscles had contorted and twisted as he had been lying down, and he tried to stretch. Suddenly there was an unbearable jolt of pain from his ribs. Alec looked down and once again remembered. His ribcage was so bruised there was none of his pale skin left, just mottled black, blue and red marks. He was sure some of his ribs were broken but he didn't dare prod them to assess damage for fear that it would cause even more pain.
Alec shivered again and rubbed his numb hands up and down his arms in a failing attempt to create friction to keep himself warm. He was terrified, but not because of the pain. No, he was scared that he hadn't remembered where he was. Whilst he was asleep he had allowed himself to dream of a happier time, of lying on the sofa, his head on Magnus' lap, Chairman Meow sat contently purring in his lap, whilst Magnus absentmindedly stroked his midnight hair. When he had awoken it had taken a while to adjust to his surroundings, to feel the injuries he had sustained as a result of the torture once more. Alec vowed there and then that he wouldn't sleep again until he escaped his kidnappers. Dreaming was dangerous. It took you way from reality, made you feel like things could get better when it was blatantly obvious that they wouldn't. But more than that, it made you weak. It numbed the pain of whatever suffering you were going through momentarily, but once you awoke the pain hit you afresh tenfold.
The door of the cell creaked open and in stepped a short man with a horrible grimace on his twisted face.
"Wakey wakey little boy, I have got a brand new toy!" he said in a nauseating, taunting voice. When Alec didn't move, he walked over him and stamped on his arm. Alec heard a snap as his bone broke under the man's boot and he screamed in agony. He was used to pain, he was a shadowhunter. But in the past he had always worn runes to protect himself from the worst of it. Now, with no runes to protect him, he felt weak and feeble as he cried against the stone floor.
"I SAID MOVE!" yelled the man, "or do you want me to break your other arm too?"
Trying to maintain the last remainder of his dignity Alec clenched his jaw to stop himself crying. He dragged himself upwards using his unbroken arm, ignoring the screaming protests of his bruised and broken ribs and stood up straight to face his captor. The room swayed around him, inevitably a result of his untreated head injury, but he maintained his balance. The man looked at him smugly and retreated down the dark corridor, indicating that Alec should follow him. As he limped down the corridor he wondered what time it was. It had been just before 6pm when they had barged into Magnus flat and taken him. It was definitely still the night, the moon shone bright in the inky sky. So he couldn't have been there for that long. After a rough portal ride they had thrown him into a cell and kicked him, in the head, the ribs, everywhere. They told him that he was a danger to the future of the Clave because he was gay, and he needed changing back to normal. They said that the only way to do that was through their own version of aversion therapy. God knows what that meant.
Thinking of Magnus made panic course through Alec's body. He saw them cast some sort of spell on him before they took him, their side must have had a warlock of their own. The fact that Alec was still stuck in these cells made him worry even more for Magnus: surely if he was able to he would have alerted someone by now?
Alec stepped into a large domed room. The roof was entirely glass, and through it he could see the beautiful starry sky. The room was empty, save for a single metal chair in the centre of the room with manacles where the arms were meant to go. His captor thrust him into the chair and clasped the manacles tightly around his pale, skinny wrists. Then, out of the darkness stepped two more people, a short man and a slender woman. The short man was carrying what appeared to be a mundane baseball bat, but it had shards of glass stuck to it. One these shards was a black, tar like substance, which Alec had a sinking feeling was demon poison. He handed it to the man who had retrieved him from his cell.
"Now Alec", said the man now holding the bat. "We have a little problem here. The shadowhunters are struggling with numbers after the war. We need as many new children as we possibly can." He prowled around the room like a cat ready to pounce. "But people like you" he spat, thrusting the bat close to Alec's face "Stop us from doing that. Now I don't want you to think that we are the bad guys", he gestured to himself and the other two shadowhunters in the room. "We just want to help you! So we are going to teach you not to be gay. This bat here is quite a weapon. I made it myself. The shards are soaked in a mild form of demon poison. Not enough to kill you, no don't worry about that. We wouldn't want more dead shadowhunters would we! No, this is just enough to stop you healing like a shadowhunter. An Iratze won't work on you Alexander, no. So you will heal slowly, like a mundane. This will give us more time to convert you." He finished with a slight grin.
"More time to torture me, you mean?" said Alec grimly through gritted teeth. "It isn't going to work! You can hit me all you like with that thing, you can make my wounds hurt for as long as you fucking like, but this isn't going to work!" He was shouting now, glaring at the shadowhunters. "I can't change! It isn't possible! Don't you think I tried? At first, before I accepted myself I tried everything to make myself straight, but it didn't work!"
"Now now Alec" purred the man. "That isn't a very good attitude is it? Maybe we need to teach you a lesson..."
He struck Alec with the bat, over and over and over. Alec barely had time to feel the pain before he blacked out, his body clearly unable to take any more.