A/N: This chapter gets a bit graphic. Those with squeamish stomachs should shield their eyes. Rating may go up in the next few chapters. I posted three chapters today, I hope you enjoy them. My muse was with me and my hubby was at a ball game. I had time to kill, so to speak.
Grissom woke again with the coppery taste of blood in his mouth. He rolled onto his side and spit once or twice to clear out the taste. Man, he could use a drink of water. Unfortunately, that was not going to happen any time soon. He gently sat up so that his elbows were resting on his knees and he groaned. Oh Sara. He thought. You must be so worried by now. He closed his eyes to hold back the hot tears he felt there. He would not cry. Men don't cry. Who was he kidding? Sometimes they did. He let out a long sigh and grimaced at the pain in his chest. Suddenly the hatch above his head opened flooding the darkness. He shielded his eyes at the blinding brightness.
"I see that you're awake Dr. Grissom. That's good. I want you aware of what's going on around you. How are those ribs feeling huh?" A menacing voice above him spoke. "Now, shall we have a little fun while we wait for the rest of your family to get here?"
"What do you mean my family? Leave them out of this!" Gil croaked at the unseen voice above his head. "Who are you, you bastard?!"
"Such language Dr. Grissom. That's not how a proper gentlemen speaks, you know. Do you kiss your mother with that dirty mouth? Maybe we should clean it out for you huh? Sounds like a good idea to me." He laughed a deep a resonating laugh and Grissom winced. What did that mean?
Two men dropped a ladder into the dark cellar and climbed down before Grissom could react. He had no where to go or hide and he was in no shape to fight them off. The men each grabbed one of his arms and held him upright. Grissom tried to wrench himself from their grasp, but every move he made aggravated his ribs or his pounding head. The owner of the menacing voice slowly climbed down the ladder carrying a milk crate under one arm. Grissom could hear various items rattling around inside. He tightly closed his eyes and tried not to imagine what could be in there.
"Now Dr. Grissom, let's see what's in the crate eh? Hmmmm…." The man picked through the items. Grissom heard various timbres of metal and glass tinkling and clanking and he grimaced. "Ah ha! I have just the perfect thing Dr. Grissom. This should take care of that dirty mouth of yours." He pulled a bottle from the crate and a wire brush. Quickly, the two men pushed Grissom to the ground and shackled his arms to hooks on the ground. Grissom hadn't noticed them before. They did the same to his ankles until he was laying spread eagled on the dirt floor. One man knelt down next to Grissom's head and placed a knee on either side pinning his head in place. The other man took what looked to be a large set of pliers and pulled Grissom's jaws open. He clamped the pliers onto the end of Grissom's tongue and pulled it out of his mouth.
"Now, don't move Dr. Grissom or I'll have him pull your tongue out. Would you like that?" Grissom shook his head side to side. "Good, now let's clean up that dirty mouth of yours?" The man took the cap off of a bottle of bleach and poured a little into a glass bowl. He dipped the wire brush inside and the proceeded to scrub Grissom's tongue with the brutal concoction. Grissom screamed as the wire cut his tongue into ribbons. The blood flowed down his throat and poured a ribbon down the sides of his mouth and puddle behind his ears when he managed to spit some out or he thrashed his head.
"Now Dr. Grissom. The bleach may taste bad, but it will prevent infection." The man said as he scrubbed harder. Grissom's tears ran down the sides of his face and he attempted to sob from the pain but the pliers prevented him from any sound. Finally his tongue was released and he gently closed his aching jaws. He wept openly and tightly clamped his jaws shut to prevent any further intrusion.
"Ahh Dr. Grissom. You are so ungrateful for my services. I was just cleaning up your dirty mouth. You should thank me for making you a proper gentleman again. Now, what else can we do? Hmmmm?" Grissom heard him rummage around in the crate again and he shuddered.
"Ahh…I have it. This should keep you just uncomfortable enough that you won't go to sleep on me. You will have company soon dear Doctor." He reached into the crate and pulled out a set of large metal skewers. He held one to the shaft of light from the overhead opening and Grissom watched it glimmer. The man twirled it between his fingers and then grabbed Grissom's jaws again. He held the tip of the skewer to Grissom's lower lip and pushed the tip into his skin. The two other men worked in unison to hold Grissom's head still while the man pushed the metal implement through his lower lip and then into his upper lip effectively piercing the two together. Grissom writhed and screamed behind his bleeding, quivering lips.
"Now Dr. Grissom. You can't call for help. Ha ha ha. How does it feel to be so effectively silenced?" Grissom could only cry and pray for deliverance.
Oh God Sara. He prayed. Help me!