Hunter was laying on the cold, stone floor of a prison cell when he awoke. He groaned as he sat up, looking down to his legs after hearing a loud clinking sound. He was chained to the floor by a cuff around his ankle, and he had been stripped down to his vest and trousers, his Scout uniform confiscated. The cell was pitch black, but that changed when the door slid open, revealing the Stalker standing at the entrance.
Now that light was streaming in from the hallway, Hunter was able to get a better look at his captor. He wore long white winter robes, with a hood that covered his face that was ringed in tan fur. He had a balaclava on underneath the hood with his eyes covered by a pair of green goggles, and he had his glaive slung over his back.
"Where's Steve?" Hunter asked, full of concern for his friend. "What did you do to him?"
"He took a little tumble off the cliffside," the Stalker chuckled. His voice was deep and baritone, lacking any hint of empathy or sorrow. "You won't be seeing him again any time soon."
Hunter gritted his teeth and shouted at the Stalker. "You'll pay for what you've done! Attacking a Coven Scout is an offence punishable by fifty years in the Conformatorium, and that's if you're lucky."
"And you would know, wouldn't you? You're a Commander, correct?"
"What does that have to do with anything?" Hunter snapped.
"My master has ordered me to extract sensitive information from you, and for your sake, I'd suggest you get it over with quickly and painlessly."
"I'll never tell you anything." Hunter stood up and looked the Stalker in the eye.
The Stalker frowned. "If you cooperate, you will be set free with all of your possessions and escorted down the mountain. If you don't, you will die in this cell." He sighed and placed a hand on Hunter's shoulder.
"What is the Day of Unity?"
Suddenly, it clicked in Hunter's mind; he and the Coven Heads had been given a brief summary of what the Day of Unity was, but Kikimora was left out for 'not being a higher up' despite being a higher rank than Hunter himself. She always hated him for that, and now she was going to make sure he never got his promotion and find out about the Day of Unity in one fell swoop.
He shook his head and let out a breath. "I don't know what it is."
"Well then," the Stalker said. "I can always resort to more persuasive methods."
Hunter gulped; he had gone through enough pain in his life to know that what was coming wouldn't be pleasant, but he knew, deep down, that it would be worth it. Belos had done so much for him, he couldn't betray him now.
"Then have at it," he spat. "Whatever you got, just get on with it. It won't work."
"As you wish." The Stalker grinned, turning away and walking over to the door. "Then let us begin."
He slammed the door shut, and didn't come back for a long time.
The first few hours were pretty bad. It was pitch black, and the room was completely empty, devoid of even a blanket to use to stay warm. Boredom was the main theme of these hours; just sitting around in various positions thinking up stories to pass the time.
Then, he decided to try and put the time to good use. He started exercising, doing as many push-ups as he could before his body felt like it was going to burst into flames.
He had gotten to about five hundred when a small hatch at the bottom of the door opened, and a dry ham sandwich with a bottle of water was tossed through. It didn't even have butter on it, but Hunter was overjoyed just to have some stimulation for the first time in hours.
After he reached a thousand push-ups, he told himself that he would keep going, but sleep took him. He had no sense of time anymore; he didn't know if he'd been n this place for five hours or ten. He didn't even have any idea for how long he'd slept for.
The door opened again a little while after he woke up.
"I'm impressed," the Stalker said as Hunter shielded his eyes from the bright light seeping in through the open door. "I thought you would've cracked by now."
"I think you'll find that I'm full of surprises," Hunter muttered.
The Stalker grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close. "Enough. Tell me what the Day of Unity is."
"I don't—" Hunter's response was cut off by a quick punch to the nose, which made an audible cracking sound.
The Stalker lifted and him up and slammed him against the wall, before asking again in an eerily controlled tone. "What is the Day of Unity?"
"I don't know!" Hunter yelled.
The Stalker loosened his grip, letting him drop to the floor. Hunter held a hand under his bleeding nose as he attempted to stand up. He suddenly felt a sharp pain in his stomach as he collapsed to the floor, wheezing and coughing up blood.
"Maybe you need more time to think on your decision," the Stalker asserted, tossing Hunter a dishcloth and a roll of toilet paper.
Hunter spend the next hour or so trying, and to stop his nose from bleeding, and eventually managed by putting some of the paper up his nose so that the blood would clot.
After that, things started to get even worse. He started talking to himself, having fully blown conversations just to pass the time. Thankfully, he was still lucid enough to know it was a fantasy.
"The history of the Savage Ages and the Deadwardian Era is actually really interesting," he choked out, his voice low and raspy. "Despite how hard Uncle Belos has tried to censor information about those time periods, they're actually fascinating to read about." He paced around the room, the sound of the chain clinking against the floor being tuned out. "For example, did you know that balusters were considered a sophisticated art form in the Deadwardian Era? That's actually the reason why all of the castle's stairways are so ornate, they're created by artists instead of architects. They're an important part of Isles culture to this day for many reasons, one being that they're still seen as a sign of wealth; higher class people like the Blights always pay for very ornate balusters, whilst people who are poorer obviously don't have the money for that."
He could feel sleep setting in as he rambled to himself, and he eventually drifted off. The next however long was a blur; every now and again the Stalker would come in to try and persuade him, and Hunter would tell him to get lost.
But after some indeterminate amount of time, his mental state began to deteriorate far beyond losing track of time. He began to hallucinate; having conversations with people who he thought he might never see again. The first one happened right after his assuredly daily persuasion session. He was curled up in a ball on the floor trying to ignore the pain, but then he heard that voice.
"Hello Hunter," Belos said. Hunter didn't even acknowledge his presence; he was too beaten and broken to care. "You can give in now. It's okay.
"You'll think I'm weak," Hunter breathed. "And you'd be right…"
"But would it not be worth it? Even the sweet release of death would be preferable to this, would it not? I value your loyalty, but everyone – even me – has a breaking point."
"You're just… you're just my imagination," Hunter trembled. "You're just trying to get me to give in."
"Oh, come on Hunter," Belos soothed. "We all know you're the weakest link, but that's okay."
Rage started bubbling up inside Hunter as he sat up and stared at his Uncle, continuing to ignore the agony his body was in. "Get out of my head!" he screamed, clenching his eyes shut and putting his hands over his ears.
He sat in that position for far too long, but when he opened his eyes, Belos was gone, and tears were running down Hunter's face.
Yet another indeterminate amount of time passed. Hunter's hallucinations began to get worse and worse, but he was still just about able to tell what was real apart from what wasn't, so when the door opened and the Stalker walked his cell again, he knew what was coming.
"What's it this time…" he coughed. "Same old tricks?"
"No," the Stalker said, walking over to him a kneeling down. "I actually have something different in mind for today." He pulled a small, sharp knife from a holster on his ankle. It was covered in dried blood, meaning that it was probably the same one he used to kill Charlie.
Hunter pulled back in fear. He wasn't prepared for this at all.
"Oh, is the little scout scared? I thought you said you'd never talk."
Hunter tried to think of a witty response, but drew a blank. "Fuck you."
The Stalker suddenly lunged forward and grabbed Hunter by the side of his head, pushing his face against the floor despite the struggling. Hunter could feel the tip of the knife pierce his cheek; it was painful, but nothing he couldn't handle.
"Tell me what the Day of Unity is." The Stalker began to ever so slowly drag the knife down his face, and Hunter screamed in agony. "What is it?!"
But even as tears sprung from Hunter's eyes, he kept his mouth shut. In a fit of rage, the Stalker dragged the knife down the right side of Hunter's cheek, then released his grip on him.
Hunter was in agony for hours after the Stalker left, but there was no one left to hear him scream.