Disclaimer: Star Wars brings in tons of money and as I have not seen a single cent of that money, I am not George Lucas and therefore don't own Star Wars. And sadly, that means I don't own Obi-Wan either.
Summary: The second story in the Jedi Trials series. Obi-Wan's been captured, Qui-Gon's left the Jedi Order, and Anakin must learn to trust his new Master. The Republic is on the brink of war and only Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon, and Anakin can save the galaxy.
Author's Notes: A little warning…This chapter is very graphic and dark, both emotionally and descriptively. Please don't have a heart attack or something when you read it! The next post should be up on Tuesday…hopefully. Have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year (or Happy Holidays, if you prefer). Be safe!
Torture and Death
By Kekelina
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Chapter Fourteen: A Broken Soul
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"Jedi scum!"
Obi-Wan hit the wall opposite him with a sickening thud, his already broken ribs cracking even more. Obi-Wan screamed from the pain, but because his voice was completely gone, it didn't make very much sound.
Obi-Wan allowed his head to roll to the side as the pain consumed his body like volcanic fire, eating away at his skin, licking his wounds with its razor sharp tongue. He started convulsing from his immense suffering and it took a quick kick from one of the bounty hunter's booted feet to make him stay still.
His nails dug deep into his palm as the torment overwhelmed him, spreading from his stomach to all his extremities. His sore muscles tightened, an automatic response to protect his body. Some job they're doing, Obi-Wan thought during a brief moment of clarity, before the pain overtook him again.
His body racked with unending sobs, tearing his throat with their claws. The bounty hunter looked unmercifully upon him, perhaps even with some joy, a lunatic murderer relishing in the desperate pleas of his newest victim.
The binders had come off Obi-Wan's wrist many weeks ago, as if the bounty hunter wanted him to fight back so he could cause him more pain. The merciless hunter grabbed Obi-Wan's infected arm and pulled him up to his feet roughly, causing the wound to tear open. The pain caused Obi-Wan's knees to buckle, and he fell to his knees. Pain shot through his upper legs as his knees hit the stone floor.
A blow to his face caused his whole body to meet the floor.
The room began to spin as Obi-Wan lay there, too weak to move, blood dripping from the laceration on his forehead. The bounty hunter was saying something, probably some demeaning remarks, but Obi-Wan couldn't hear him. His brain was shutting down, fed up with the torment Obi-Wan was forced to endure. There was no reason to stay conscious. There was no reason to show the bounty hunter that he could face the torture, especially when he couldn't. There was no reason to fight. No reason to live.
No reason to survive.
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Tears were a natural part of Obi-Wan's life – if he could call it that – now. Tears flowed so often that they left clean streaks on Obi-Wan's grimy, bloodied face. His tears were his only companions; only they knew of the pain that he experienced every minute of the day.
Obi-Wan had no hope. That fact was plain and simple. He knew that the rest of his existence would be spent in his dingy cell, alone, consumed by his pain. He would have no Jedi funeral, at least, no funeral with his body present. His shell would be left to decay slowly over the years, used as a home and food for insects, until his innards were demolished by fungus and the bugs, leaving only his skeleton as a reminder of the once-Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi.
No one would care. The Jedi would light his few possessions on fire in tribute to his life – a life well-lived, they would say – then they would move on, and his name would appear next to the names of deceased Jedi far greater than he ever could have hoped to be. His fellow Jedi would look upon the wall with mild sadness at the lives lost, but not particularly his life. Decades later, after all his friends had joined him on the wall, newly anointed Jedi Knights would look upon his name and ask one another "who was Obi-Wan Kenobi?" No one would have an answer.
That would be his destiny, to become a nameless corpse on a far away planet, forgotten by everyone he thought cared about him. This was his future; he knew it to be true. His former Master had always said he was too closely connected to the Unifying Force, but it was the Unifying Force that had showed him his bleak future.
There is no death; there is the Force.
Obi-Wan gazed at the sharp stone in his hand and knew his destiny.
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Obi-Wan stumbled around his cell in the dark, screaming every expletive he could at the top of his lungs. He bumped into wall after wall, ignoring the pain shooting through his shoulders and head, too consumed by his rage.
He flung the stone in his hand into the darkness, but gained little satisfaction as it hit one of the walls with a thud. He saw only in shades of red. His body was tensed with anger; his mind was on overdrive. Every bone in his body told him to give in to his fury, to let it flow through him like blood. Angry tears flowed from his hatred-hardened eyes.
"WHY DID YOU DO THIS?" he screamed into the night air. "WHY AM I STILL HERE?"
He punched the closest wall with his fist, grimacing as his bones crushed together and a warm, sticky substance started travelling slowly down his hand. The feeling of the liquid caused him to stop suddenly as he gazed upon a hand he couldn't see. He felt the blood with his fingers, then glared angrily at the sky he knew was beyond the rocky ceiling.
"IS THAT WHAT I HAVE TO DO? IS THIS WHAT IT TAKES?" The sky remained silent, and he growled in frustration. "ANSWER ME!"
He became frenzied and hysterical, both his hands now searching the wall. He couldn't find it…he needed to find it. A fresh batch of tears rolled down his face. His heart beat rapidly, causing him to become dizzied. But he wouldn't stop. It was here somewhere! It had to be!
His hands came to rest over an extremely sharp rock, and he grinned in triumph, looking up at the sky again. "This is it, isn't it?" he asked, though he already knew the answer. "It has to be…" he whispered quietly to himself. Seconds ticked by as Obi-Wan stared at the wall in thought, then, grinning like a madman, he started rubbing both his wrists over the sharp rock, trying to draw blood.
For hours he continued this, until his wrists became red and raw and he collapsed from fatigue. He slid slowly down the wall, holding his wrists as tears poured from his eyes like the waterfalls on Naboo.
"Why?" he whispered to the air. "Why, why, why, why, why…?"
Rage consumed him again, surging through his veins. He cursed every being in the galaxy that had done this to him. He cursed the bounty hunter. He cursed Palpatine. He cursed the Jedi. He cursed his friends. He cursed Qui-Gon. He cursed Anakin.
He cursed the Force.
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"Kill me."
Jango eyed the pathetic-looking Jedi from underneath his helmet. "What," he asked, feigning only mild interest in the Jedi's request.
"Kill me," the Jedi repeated, his voice breaking.
Jango examined the Jedi. He was beaten and bruised, with dried blood covering much of his face. His tunic was dirty and shredded; his eyes were red, puffy, and…lifeless? He was shaking, and Jango could hear him taking rattled breaths. His hair was long and ratty, as was his beard, and there was so much dirt stuck to it he couldn't tell what the natural color had been.
Jango smiled beneath his helmet and grabbed the Jedi by his hair, pulling him to his knees. The Jedi didn't make a sound. Jango bent down to his level and removed his helmet so the Jedi could see his face. He came within ten centimeters of the Jedi's face and looked him straight in his hopeless eyes.
"You want to die, is that it?"
Still shaking, the Jedi replied, "Please…"
Jango punched him in the face and put his helmet back on. Smirking, he made his way out of the cell and went to comm Palpatine.
The Chancellor would be pleased to hear the Jedi was broken.
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The Other Author's Notes: After I wrote this chapter, I just kind of sat in front of my computer because I was so stunned by what I had written. This is probably the darkest chapter I have written so far. Please tell me what you think!