Hey, I got another chapter for you. I know it's been WAY too long since I updated and I'm sorry. I've been having computer trouble :( So, to make up for it, I'll give you guys two chapters this time:) ....... and THANK YOU Hiei-Rulez for reviewing on the last chapter
On with the story........
He didn't know how long he had been out but when he awoke, he wished that he didn't. Each of his limbs were secured to the wall with solid iron clasps. He had a clasp securing his chest and waist to the wall as well. The clasp across his chest pressed up against his already broken ribs, which caused excruciating pain. "Awww! The little worms woken up!," one of the Orcs hissed as he came from the dark and shadowy corner. "It's time for some more FUN!," the other one squealed as he ran up behind the other. Thankfully they only had two syringes left, but after the syringes, the beatings would come.
The syringe the Orc held this time was unlike any he had ever seen. The liquid it contained was a forest green color and he could smell it from were he was chained to the wall. "This one should be fun to watch," the one Orc said to another as he approached Frodo on the wall. What did he mean by "fun"? It slowly looked over Frodo, searching for the best and most painful place to inject him with it. He found it. The small grove between Frodo's neck and shoulder. He slowly pushed the needle into Frodo's scarred and bruised skin, causing him to scream and struggle. But all it did was cause his mouth to bleed from the gag. Frodo didn't feel anything at first but then he started to convulse. His small body was racked with violent convulsions. Convulsions so violent that his wrist broke, from the force of them.
The convulsions went on for about 5 minutes, until finally they stopped, leaving Frodo with more broken ribs, a broken wrist and a sprained ankle. The Orcs were pleased with these results but they had one more trick like the previous one up there sleeve. The picked up the final syringe off of the floor. The only thought
running through Frodo's mind was, What could be worse then what they have already put me through? The last syringe was a dismal orange color.
The Orc came up to him and jabbed the syringe up into his neck. Almost as soon as the liquid was injected, Frodo wretched up what little contents he had left in his stomach. He continued to wretch and he started coughing up blood from wearing his throat raw from the stomach acid. "P-please, m-ake i-i-it stop," Frodo managed to sputter before he threw up again. But the Orcs did nothing they sat there an watched him suffer. He eventually stopped throwing up, but his throat was raw and bloody and he was entirely covered in blood and throw-up.
Once he had stopped, the Orcs got up from where they were sitting and picked a hideous looking torture object. it had various spikes and it looked like it latched around the victims chest. Then Frodo saw it, the syringe that was positioned in the center of the device. The Orc opened up the claw like device and clamped it over Frodo's chest. The iron was cold against his pale skin and the claws bit into him. The Orc approached him and slowly plunged the syringe into his chest. Frodo could feel it tear through his skin and muscle as the Orc forced it through. It stopped only inches from his lungs, any further and he would die. As the new liquid entered his blood steam Frodo jerked and quivered in pain. His heart speed up and his throat constricted. Frodo, forgetting he was secured to the wall, tried to reach for his throat but only hurt his injured wrist more.
As his throat constricted, the Orcs forced something down it. A tube, they put it in but left the gag. Why make him suffer? Just take out the tube and let him die. His throat continued to constrict until the only way anything could pass in or out of his mouth was through the tube. That was exactly what the Orcs wanted. The picked up a vile full of a foul black liquid. They poured it down his throat, watching him wriggle with pain and disgust as the foul stuff passed into his system. Frodo would soon find out what the purpose of the liquid was, and it would be worse than anything he had already been through.
It took about a half an hour for the liquid to absorb into his system. Once it did, it felt like some one had lit a fire within him. The burning sensation spread through out his entire body, causing him to convulse and vomit in pain. Seeing no end to the pain, Frodo gave into his body's urge to pass out. He was unconscious for a few hours. When he awoke there was no one around, just himself hanging in pain on the wall. The burning sensation was still there, but it wasn't as severe as last time. Frodo tried to lift his head to look around, but he was so weak that he couldn't even move it.
Footsteps slambered up the wooden steps of the ladder and the trap door flew open as it had so many times before. The hideous Orc clamber through the trap door then shut and locked it behind him. In his arms he had a knife, a whip and another syringe. Frodo quivered in fear, dreading what was to come. The syringe was the same clear liquid they had stab him with earlier. As the Orc came closer, Frodo noticed that it had other, smaller knives, as well as bandages, a needle and thread. The Orc slowly approached Frodo and injected the needle, surprisingly gently, into the back of his neck, like last time. And like last time, Frodo slipped into unconsciousness. What Frodo wasn't aware of though was that the Orc had snuck up there to care for him.
On with the story........
He didn't know how long he had been out but when he awoke, he wished that he didn't. Each of his limbs were secured to the wall with solid iron clasps. He had a clasp securing his chest and waist to the wall as well. The clasp across his chest pressed up against his already broken ribs, which caused excruciating pain. "Awww! The little worms woken up!," one of the Orcs hissed as he came from the dark and shadowy corner. "It's time for some more FUN!," the other one squealed as he ran up behind the other. Thankfully they only had two syringes left, but after the syringes, the beatings would come.
The syringe the Orc held this time was unlike any he had ever seen. The liquid it contained was a forest green color and he could smell it from were he was chained to the wall. "This one should be fun to watch," the one Orc said to another as he approached Frodo on the wall. What did he mean by "fun"? It slowly looked over Frodo, searching for the best and most painful place to inject him with it. He found it. The small grove between Frodo's neck and shoulder. He slowly pushed the needle into Frodo's scarred and bruised skin, causing him to scream and struggle. But all it did was cause his mouth to bleed from the gag. Frodo didn't feel anything at first but then he started to convulse. His small body was racked with violent convulsions. Convulsions so violent that his wrist broke, from the force of them.
The convulsions went on for about 5 minutes, until finally they stopped, leaving Frodo with more broken ribs, a broken wrist and a sprained ankle. The Orcs were pleased with these results but they had one more trick like the previous one up there sleeve. The picked up the final syringe off of the floor. The only thought
running through Frodo's mind was, What could be worse then what they have already put me through? The last syringe was a dismal orange color.
The Orc came up to him and jabbed the syringe up into his neck. Almost as soon as the liquid was injected, Frodo wretched up what little contents he had left in his stomach. He continued to wretch and he started coughing up blood from wearing his throat raw from the stomach acid. "P-please, m-ake i-i-it stop," Frodo managed to sputter before he threw up again. But the Orcs did nothing they sat there an watched him suffer. He eventually stopped throwing up, but his throat was raw and bloody and he was entirely covered in blood and throw-up.
Once he had stopped, the Orcs got up from where they were sitting and picked a hideous looking torture object. it had various spikes and it looked like it latched around the victims chest. Then Frodo saw it, the syringe that was positioned in the center of the device. The Orc opened up the claw like device and clamped it over Frodo's chest. The iron was cold against his pale skin and the claws bit into him. The Orc approached him and slowly plunged the syringe into his chest. Frodo could feel it tear through his skin and muscle as the Orc forced it through. It stopped only inches from his lungs, any further and he would die. As the new liquid entered his blood steam Frodo jerked and quivered in pain. His heart speed up and his throat constricted. Frodo, forgetting he was secured to the wall, tried to reach for his throat but only hurt his injured wrist more.
As his throat constricted, the Orcs forced something down it. A tube, they put it in but left the gag. Why make him suffer? Just take out the tube and let him die. His throat continued to constrict until the only way anything could pass in or out of his mouth was through the tube. That was exactly what the Orcs wanted. The picked up a vile full of a foul black liquid. They poured it down his throat, watching him wriggle with pain and disgust as the foul stuff passed into his system. Frodo would soon find out what the purpose of the liquid was, and it would be worse than anything he had already been through.
It took about a half an hour for the liquid to absorb into his system. Once it did, it felt like some one had lit a fire within him. The burning sensation spread through out his entire body, causing him to convulse and vomit in pain. Seeing no end to the pain, Frodo gave into his body's urge to pass out. He was unconscious for a few hours. When he awoke there was no one around, just himself hanging in pain on the wall. The burning sensation was still there, but it wasn't as severe as last time. Frodo tried to lift his head to look around, but he was so weak that he couldn't even move it.
Footsteps slambered up the wooden steps of the ladder and the trap door flew open as it had so many times before. The hideous Orc clamber through the trap door then shut and locked it behind him. In his arms he had a knife, a whip and another syringe. Frodo quivered in fear, dreading what was to come. The syringe was the same clear liquid they had stab him with earlier. As the Orc came closer, Frodo noticed that it had other, smaller knives, as well as bandages, a needle and thread. The Orc slowly approached Frodo and injected the needle, surprisingly gently, into the back of his neck, like last time. And like last time, Frodo slipped into unconsciousness. What Frodo wasn't aware of though was that the Orc had snuck up there to care for him.