Ch. 10 Torture
A headache buzzed angrily. He opened his eyes to find he was in a dark and musty basement. He moved his arm to find he was tightly chained to the wall, along with his ankles. He tried to teleport himself out, but something had sealed his magic. He pulled at the chains, only making them pull tighter around his wrist. The links were almost cutting into his skin. Testing how far he could go, Zeke stood up, and walked forward only a foot or so when the restraints stopped him from going any further. He looked around him. It was a small basement, nothing much stored around him. A shelf with a couple books was on the opposite wall. That was about it.
The door at the top of the stairs creaked open. Zeke had to shield his eyes, for the light blinded him. With an echoing footstep, Bakura came walking down carrying a tray of water and stale bread.
"I should of known…" Zeke growled. Bakura smirked.
"I guess you know why you're here," Bakura said, setting the tray down near Zeke's feet.
"Why don't you tell me anyway?" Zeke said.
"I want to know where the girl is. You won't leave until you tell me. For now, I'll keep you alive."
"And what in your retarded evil mind makes you think I'll tell you?" Zeke asked. Bakura let out a small laugh.
"Because every time you don't, you'll regret it." He walked back up the stairs, and slammed the door behind him. Zeke gulped down the water and bread. He was captured, but at least he was allowed to eat and drink.
Bakura returned a few minutes later, carrying a large metal bat at his side. Zeke stood up, ready for anything.
"So, where is she?" Bakura asked. Zeke spat in his face. Bakura calmly wiped it away.
"Manners, manners," he said. He swung the bat against his right arm, making the old pain of his bullet wound come back even worse. Zeke didn't scream out, only clutched his arm.
"I'll ask again. Where is she?" Zeke spat once again. "Fine," Bakura said. He extracted from his pocket, a long slender knife, the same knife that Zeke had made a scar with on Bakura's back.
The knife came slicing across his cheek, leaving a large gash. Bakura took the metal bat, and slammed Zeke's hand against the wall. The bones in his fingers gave a loud crack as they broke, and this time, Zeke cried out his pain.
"You God Damn Bastard…" he uttered as he looked at his mangled hand.
"I think that's enough for today," Bakura said as he walked away. The door closed behind him, and Zeke slumped against the wall. Tears ran down his eyes, the pain pulsing through his hand. He screamed out mentally in his mind, feeling blood flow freely down his face. He closed his eyes, trying to relax, and fell asleep.
Bakura Didn't show up the next day. A way of torture by starvation and time. The blood on Zeke's cheek had dried and caked by the time Bakura returned. This time he brought a tray of Water, bread, and a small wet cloth on the side.
"Wipe your face off," he said, throwing the cloth at him. Bakura left, and Zeke cleaned the dry blood away from his cheek, leaving a scabbed cut across his face, and ate and drank quickly. After a few minutes, Bakura returned, the bat in his hand once again.
"So, are you going to tell me, or are we going to continue this little game of ours?"
"Go to hell," Zeke replied in a weak voice. The bat slammed against the side of his head, knocking him out. When he woke several days later, he vomited onto the floor. A plate was waiting for him. Once again, stale bread and water. His good hand trembling, he began to eat. He didn't know how long he had been out for. After he was finished, he waited in silence.
Bakura came in, after countless hours of waiting. Zeke saw the bat swinging by his side. Zeke stood up to face him.
"I hope you slept well," Bakura said, smirking.
"How many days has it been?" Zeke asked.
"Four. Now that I've answered your question, how about answering mine? Your not making this any easier on yourself."
Zeke remained silent, staring at Bakura with an utmost hatred in his eyes.
"Fine," Bakura muttered. The bat swung, and Zeke felt his knee become broken, and he fell hard to the floor. Crawling, he pushed himself against the wall. Bakura left, laughing. Zeke cried out, his knee encompassed in pain. He didn't think he could survive much longer. Suddenly, he noticed his knife that Bakura had carelessly left on the table. With his remaining strength, he managed to use the bracelet to move the knife towards him. Once he had it in his unbroken hand, he began sawing away at the chains. After two hours, he had painfully managed to cut through one chain link, leaving a loop of chains on his wrist and ankles. He limped up the stairs, and opened the door.
To his horror, Bakura was waiting for him. He was pushed down the stairs, and dragged back to the wall. Zeke didn't resist. He couldn't. He gave up, lying against the floor. The bat came slamming against his wrist, making him scream out. Bakura left him their, sinking into a fit of depression and pain.