Jack lay on his side watching the hands on his watch through the darkness as the seconds slowly ticked by. His fourth day had just begun. He closed his eyes willing sleep to come but it continued to defy him, his mind wouldn't let him rest in anticipation of what was surely coming to him soon. He pulled himself into a sitting position slouched against the wall, almost unable to perform the task due to the lack of energy and strength; it was more aggravating than the wait itself.
Two blank faced guards entered the cell hours later, handing him another paper cup filled to the brim with warm water. Again he drank it down thirstily, handing the cup it back to the guards knowing they wouldn't let him save it. No food was given to him today though, instead he took a surprising and heavy kick to the face which sent him sprawling on his back as his vision began to swim.
It had begun, he realised, as the two men advanced on him and began stomping down on his fragile body, the heavy boots causing more damage than he cared to think about. Trying to crawl away turned out to be a futile effort so he curled up as best he could, one arm protectively bracing his ribs as he tried to shield his head with the other.
The guards continued to stomp on him, they laughed and shouted curses in Chinese which he didn't understand. He stayed as silent as possible not wanting to give them the satisfaction of hearing the yelps of pain he struggled to prevent. The effort to stay silent as they continued to advance was exhausting, he could feel the hot sweat sticking to his skin making him clammy and warm, but he wouldn't give in. This was just the first stage, the pain and conditions would only intensify. If he couldn't handle this he wouldn't survive anything else.
The pain seemed to become sharper when the soldiers finally backed away from him, smiles forming on each of their faces as Jack refused to move or acknowledge that the attack had stopped. He stayed put with his eyes squeezed shut in some sort of protest to them men as he continued to try and block out the pain, but he couldn't. He finally opened them to see the guards leaving, the door slammed shut with a bang and then there was only the silence and darkness again.
His head pounded terrifically while his stomach ached as he fought the urge to throw up again. He rolled over onto his back with some difficulty, but he knew if he stretched out the pain would eventually soften in his chest. He laid still as his ragged breaths slowly became more comfortable and the shaking in his hands and legs seemed to settle some.
He finally allowed himself to drift off to sleep, knowing he'd be left alone until the next day rolled along. He could see the face of the officer painted in his dreams, he smiled to himself as he slept, knowing he had survived the first round, and he'd certainly make it through the next one.
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