This poor little chapter had so many things working against it: writers block, work, exams, projects. Anywho, the result was a short chapter that is incredibly late. So to the nice people that are reading this even in light of my tardiness, sorry and thanks.

Hope you enjoy!

Oh and I would like to blame my roommates for the next few chapters: one of them because this is part of her birthday checklist (Shawn whumpage) and the other because she has a dark twisted mind and helped me come up with some of this stuff :)

Time of Dying

Chapter Eleven

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Shawn slowly came back into consciousness. His world slowly went from black to gray and his brain started to click back into gear.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Before he even opened his eyes, Shawn knew he wasn't in his room, or the bar, or anywhere he knew really. He desperately tried to remember what had led to him being in a strange place but try as he might nothing was coming to him.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Shawn's eyes flew open. That dripping sound was super annoying and blocking out any attempts for him to remember what the hell had happened. He quickly found the source of the dripping and glared at the leaky pipe hoping that just by staring at it the pipe would get the hint and shut up. The pipe, of course, didn't care what Shawn did and continued to drip.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

"Humph" Shawn pouted.

Giving up with the pipe, Shawn focused his attention on what most people might consider the more important things. For instance, he noticed fairly quickly that he was tied to a chair. Both his wrists and ankles were thoroughly tied down to the chair with a course rope that made the skin it was coming into contact with itchy.

Next, he scanned the room which was serving as his prison. There was only one window high up in a corner so very little light was trickling into the room. He saw a water heater and the walls were cluttered with shelves that held tools and there were a pile of boxes in the corner. If he had to hazard a guess, Shawn would guess that he was in a basement.

'Hmm tied up in some strange person's basement. Not the best Saturday I've ever had,' Shawn thought.

Shawn heard a creaking overtop him and deduced that the owner of this basement was home and probably wouldn't stay a stranger for very much longer. It took only a few more minutes for him to hear the door at the top of the stairs open. Shawn craned his neck hoping to see who was going to come down the stairs.

He was disheartened, but not really surprised, to see the slimeball Edgar practically saunter down the steps. 'Guess the creepy guy is actually creepy' Shawn thought to himself.

"Oh good. It looks like you're finally awake," Edgar said smiling.

"Well, you know I usually like to sleep in on a Saturday but I thought since you were being such a gracious host and all that I wouldn't sleep the day away."

"That's very thoughtful of you Shawn," Edgar responded, the smile still plastered to his face.

"Now that the pleasantries are over, you mind telling me what the hell I'm doing here?" Shawn asked at a volume barely under yelling.

The smile that had been on Edgar's face quickly disappeared.

"I want you to tell me how much you know."

Shawn tried to mask the confusion he felt at that point. He had absolutely no clue what the hell Edgar was talking about. However, if he had learned anything during the past thirty or so years of his life was to make sure nobody knew how confused or scared you were. In order to do that you had to keep talking, or at least that's how Shawn solved that problem.

"Let's see. I know that 2+2=4. I know that regular Oreos are about a hundred times better than the stupid peanut butter ones that they decided to come up with. I know that you have to watch your easy-bake oven closely when trying to make a pineapple upside down cake or it might catch on fire. I know that you use way too much product in your hair and I know that your stupid pipes are leaking. That good enough for you," Shawn said in all of one breath.

Shawn should have expected it but it still stung when Edgar backhanded him across his face.

"I don't have time nor do I want to hear your smart mouth, Shawn. I want to know what you know about my business. Thomas is always talking about your 'psychic' abilities and how you worked for the police department. And now I need to know what you know about my business."

Shawn was still confused as hell but thought playing along with the crazy and obviously deranged man who had him tied up to a chair might be a good idea. He knew that this business that Edgar was talking about had to be some kind of illegal otherwise he wouldn't be flipping out as much as he was. Shawn also knew that Tom had no clue what the hell his brother was up to. Finally, he knew that he would piss of Edgar no matter what he said so he might as well have fun freaking out the older man.

"Let's just say I know enough to put you away for a long time," Shawn lied with a mischievous smirk. "However, if you let me go now we can just forget all about this little incident. Maybe we could even go play a nice game of pool?"

Once again Edgar's response was a backhand to Shawn's face. This time though Shawn could taste the metallic flavor of his blood as it flowed out of a cut on the inside of his cheek.

Shawn spit some of the blood onto the ground and smiled.

"I'm gonna take that as a maybe?"

"You will tell me what you know. Don't get me wrong I'm going to kill you. I can't have you going and telling the police on me. However, if you cooperate your death will be quick. I have to tell you that the only lesson my father ever taught me that I found at all interesting was his lesson on interrogation. I decided to do further research on my own even after the old man died," Edgar said with a smirk that was in no way comforting.

"You have one more chance to tell me what you know before we begin. So do you have anything to tell me?"

"Seeing as I already covered the atrocity that is your hair, nope."

Edgar walked behind Shawn to an area of the basement that no matter how much he tried he couldn't see. Edgar quickly reentered Shawn's area of view and in his hand was a knife, a very, very sharp knife. Shawn tried to hide his fear but couldn't manage to cover up his audible gulp when his eyes took in the knife.

Edgar twirled the knife in his hands a few times before making a quick slice across Shawn's bare arms. A pained hiss escaped Shawn because damn that hurt. Even through his pain, Shawn didn't miss the maniacal, pleased smile that formed on Edgar's face when he heard the pain that Shawn was in.

He had been promised a quick death if he talked but he wasn't so sure Edgar would have kept his end of the deal even if Shawn had anything to tell him.

Edgar made another slice across his arm. This time Edgar pulled the knife across his arm agonizingly slow. The cuts that were being formed weren't deep but the knife had a serrated edge and Shawn could practically feel the skin being ripped apart.

Blood was flowing freely from his cuts. Some of it was pooling on the ground while the rest of it was being absorbed by the ropes that held Shawn firmly in place.

By the fifth cut Shawn had gotten control over his reactions. He had stopped hissing in pain every time Edgar sliced his skin open.

Edgar seemed to notice Shawn's tolerance to the enforced pain growing and began to slice deeper and that did the trick. Shawn was back to hissing and flinching whenever the knife touched his skin.

By the time Edgar was done, both of Shawn's arms were littered with cuts of various depths and lengths. He felt as though they were on fire and couldn't help but whimper whenever he inadvertently moved them.

Edgar left Shawn's line of sight for a brief second and returned with a bottle of clear liquid.

"Thanks man I am quite parched," Shawn said sarcastically. "I'll take mine with ice please."

Once again, Edgar responded to the sarcasm with a slap to the face. That man really needed to learn to use his words instead of violence.

Edgar unscrewed the cap of the container and stepped closer to Shawn.

Shawn hoped, more like prayed, that it was just water and not some form of alcohol. However, his hopes were dashed when Edgar poured the liquid on his cuts and Shawn felt an agony unlike any other pain he had ever felt.

He howled out in pain and tears formed in his eyes. The fiery feeling he had felt earlier turned into an inferno and it took all of Shawn's will power to blink back the tears rather than letting them fall. He refused to let his tormentor see him cry.

Edgar laughed as Shawn's screams slowly subsided to whimpers.

"I think that was a good introduction to the pain that you will feel until you tell me what I want to know. I have to get to the bar now since Thomas is going to be down a pair of hands but don't worry I'll see you again tomorrow morning."

Shawn glared up at the other man as he collected his knife and turned to leave. Edgar took the steps out of the basement two at a time and was quickly at the top.

"See you tomorrow Shawn. That's when the real fun will begin."

Edgar flipped off the light switch and closed the door. Shawn was plunged into darkness.

Shawn had been kidnapped before. He'd been thrown into a trunk and chased through the woods before. He'd had guns shoved into his face and been threatened by crazy psychopaths before. He had been through countless crazy things before but he had always had people looking for him. He could always count on Gus to let people know he was in trouble and then he had always been able to rely on Lassie, Jules, and his dad to find him.

This time, however, he was all on his own and it was of his own doing. He had run and had done a damn good job of hiding. There was no Gus, no Lassie, no Jules, and no dad. Nobody was going to come to his rescue this time.

All alone in the darkness, Shawn let the tears that he had held back before fall.

Don't know when the next chapter will be up. Crazy with a capital C few weeks coming up but I'll try to post when I can.

Thanks for your continued support.

Til as soon as possible...