Nothing
Struggle was futile as even though his mind wanted to fight against his current situation, his body was deaf to the demand. He tried to keep track of where they were taking him only to find that focusing at all was nearly impossible. The hands that carried him were like cold steel vices against his bare arms as he was lugged down an overgrown alley and into a dimly lit, mostly bare and dilapidated building no larger than the interior of a medium sized convenience store.
"Now you will provide us with the information we seek," The male insisted dumping him unceremoniously into a kneeling position in front of one of the structural support beams. "Or you will be terminated."
Steel manacles were applied to his forearms and his arms pulled behind him, around the pole, and secured at the manacles with a heavy metal carabiner. His legs were chained at the ankles, the circumference of the pole keeping them under constant awkward tension. The leftover free length of chain was then fastened around the base of the pole. A cinder block was placed horizontally between his feet, pining the chain and thereby keeping him from rising once the paralysis wore off. A chain belt was fitted around his torso, holding him upright against the pole so that he couldn't slump forward. Another carabiner was clipped to the one securing his arms and then to the belt, putting forced tension on his shoulders, bending his arms awkwardly and preventing him from easing the strain by shifting them into a position below his waist.
His muscles quivered randomly. The positioning created hot, stifling pain that surged down his spine as his body failed to produce a physical reaction to what was happening. His head lolled forward and he blinked dumbly. Raspy gurgling escaped his throat and drool dampened his chin as he tried to respond to the demand for information. The muscles in his face ticked, the spasms strong enough to cause his mouth to sag open and his tongue to sink forward against his teeth. The position turned the gurgling into wet, weak unintelligible grunting. "Fuck! What the fuck is…" Fog claimed his mind, blotting out the thought and skewing his cognitive awareness. Even though he was mostly lucid and totally aware of his current captivity, his mental capacity was dampened to the point that his mind failed to register the paralyzed state of his own body.
"They are so amusing when you make them drool, Luthor," The female remarked tearing the shirt from his torso and exposing his chest. She dug her nails into his shoulders, dragging them down his ribcage and over his abdomen, leaving deep oozing scratches. The flurry of spasms that followed and his struggle to react provided her a good laugh. "So funny," She insisted grabbing a fistful of his hair and putting painful pressure against his jaws.
The motion, as she raked his face and jerked his head back and forth, created long tendrils of viscous saliva that trailed in sticky strands from his mouth to dampen and cling to his now bare chest. The discomfort as she dug into his jaws set off a burst of facial ticking and raspy grunting. His gaze turned to cold confusion as he became briefly aware of the fact that his nervous system was far from deadened and pain immediately registered but he was unable to make sense of the inability to physically respond.
"So easily annoyed," She purred her tone steely as she slipped a length of chain, fitted with a thick metal ring at its center into his mouth, allowing his tongue to slide, without resistance, through the ring. The chain was pulled taut and secured behind the pole with a metal carabiner, effectively pinning his head. The weighted ring settled upright just behind his fangs and the pressure of his tongue pushed it forward against his teeth. It put continuous painful strain upon his jaws as it forced him to constantly bite down and held his mouth agape. "I love prisoners that are easily annoyed, they are so entertaining and their minds are so exciting to extract from."
"No time for games Felicia, my sweet. We must carry out Master Aro's orders to the letter." Luthor reminded watching as she harassed the prisoner. "His continued existence depends on his cooperation." He revealed bringing his knee up with force into the prisoner's abdomen and relishing in the fact that the only response was a weak groan of pain.
For several minutes, she watched her brother weaken the prisoner's resolve with unrestrained blows to his ribcage and stomach before pausing to check and adjust the tension of his bonds. "He's quite the hunk, for a prisoner that is," She rubbed the roof of his mouth with her finger then grabbed his tongue and yanked it through the ring so that it hung wilted against his chin. "Futile to struggle, your mind is already slowly giving way," She hissed fondling his fangs with her finger before wiping the drool in a long streak across his cheek. "Brother of mine, can we keep him long enough to have some fun?"
Erratic muscle spasms rippled across his body as she pulled a blade from somewhere within her robe and punctured his tongue midway between its mid-point and the tip. His expression exploded with pain as she forced the blade all the way through before twisting it to open the hole before pulling it free. She pushed upward against his chin putting strain on his jaws and watching him try futilely to pull away from the discomfort. Then without warning, she forced a heavy, red, metal carabiner through the bleeding hole and screwed it closed. An uncontained flood of drool mixed with dark blood poured from around it like a leaky faucet.
"Bitch! Why? …what do you fucking…?" The thought slipped into nothing and physical reaction failed. "What the fuck is wrong with…you? I…" He tried to question them but all that came was weak, random grunting and raspy gurgling amidst the harsh, angry pain. His throat and mouth felt as though they were stuffed with wet sand and coated in thick slime. His tongue wagged, flaccid and quivering erratically. The tug of excess weight against it aggravated the wound leaving it to constantly hemorrhage dark blood as it sagged loose and fully extended over his bottom lip
It was always like Felicia to find pleasure in torture. Luthor knew if his sister was going to be up to the task of extracting the necessary information from the prisoner then he would need to allow her request to be satiated. He shook his head watching as the prisoner tried to regain proper control of his body. "Futile, it will be several hours before you can even attempt to put up even the weakest form of resistance," The resulting confused, uncomfortable countenance and unintelligible, weedy vocalizations made him chuckle as he studied his sister briefly.
"I so want to have some fun. He has such temper. I like it when they put up a fiery struggle before I use my gift to strip them of necessary information." Felicia begged raking his face with the back of her hand, "And leave them in a temporary state of mental destruction."
Luthor nodded, "A day, maybe two... He will grow difficult to keep captive once this state dissipates." He reminded watching his sister's eyes light up with excitement. "Not that I couldn't easily keep him physically incapacitated enough to allow you your fun." He rubbed his fingers together, "But Master Aro's orders must be completed within three days or we will be the ones submitted to torture."
An almost evil smile blossomed over her expression as she took firm grip of the prisoner's cheeks so that hot pain surged up into his temples. "I will gradually crack his mind and extract the necessary information over the span of the next thirty six hours or so, while we," She fisted him across the jaw, "enjoy our fun."
"By the time he recovers physical function, his mind will likely be weakened enough that there should be no trouble keeping him confined." Luthor agreed watching as the prisoner's muscles twitched and ticked violently. "That should leave plenty of time to fulfill Master Aro's orders."
"We'll just leave him here, loosely attached to this pole, out of the way, when the extraction is done." She raked one red painted nail along the exposed surface of his tongue, "His cognition will be too fragmented, for several days, to even remember his own identity much less our faces or what happened here. Until the profound amnesia lifts and he regains cognitive function, he won't be able to free himself to leave and by that point it won't matter. " Her finger landed on the carabiner at the end of his tongue and she gave it a swift, firm jerk. Smiling as his expression blossomed with discomfort, she licked the bloody phlegm from her hand before kneeling in front of him. "We must learn of your name as it's no fun to inflict torment upon a nameless victim."
"Hhss…uyowyng," Drool pooled then plummeted from his mouth. It drained along his exposed tongue to drip, tainted with blood, from the end of the carabiner and run in streams down his chest. Thick filaments of sticky saliva hung from the carabiner like the broken stems of some alien forest vine. Muscles twitched over his jaws setting off spasms that radiated along his throat and turned the unintelligible muttering into fits of strained hacking. His expression turned pained as she pushed upward against his chin, the pressure sparking knifing pain that pulsed along and through his jaws as he was made to focus to her. "Awghhh…yssh." Hacking overpowered him, "Fuck…you…bi…!" Sudden complete incoherence; it was incapacitating. The ability to form words became briefly foreign as she used the carabiner in his tongue to torture him.
"Now," A soft, but threatening growl laced her tone as she grabbed his face, palms flat against his cheeks and thumbs pressed into his temples. The red of her eyes darkened as she let her gift flow into her palms. The pressure of her hands increased until her grip was like a steel vice upon his face, "Let's have your name, pet."
His body shook violently; his pores opening to leak streams of sweat as his core temperature spiked. Pain ripped through him, setting his nervous system on fire and clenching each and every muscle into hard lumps. The constrictions came with a force mighty enough that it felt as though his skeletal system would be shattered into a pile of dust. Blood, dark and thick, oozed from his nostrils and thick froth gurgled up into his throat and foamed in copious amounts from his mouth. His pupils dilated, rolling back to leave just the whites visible. A raspy, distressed moaning emanated from deep in his chest as his mind was penetrated. "I w-illn…oth…you…wha…n-n-naaa…" Speech failed as his mind filled with static noise—painful, pulsating noise that drown out coherence. His name danced, in plain thought, just beyond the fog as if he had spoken it aloud.
"Mhmm, so Spike it is." She spoke his name, letting the sound of it roll from her tongue and hang stale in the air. "Good fun we shall have, Spike, my pet, good fun." Her grip loosened and she shifted her thumbs, forcing his eyes closed and pinning the lids beneath firm pressure. After a few minutes, she released her hold and back fisted him hard on the temple. The shock of the blow returned him to his original state but left him with altered cognitive acuity and dampened mental response.
He stared blankly at his captors, his expression one of complete bewilderment as their images blurred before him. Pounding drums exploded inside his skull and the unrelenting discomfort along with the intense dizziness left him squinting and fighting to even stay conscious. Blood tainted foam oozed freely from his nose and mouth, covering his chin as it fell in thick masses to the floor in front of him. Gravelly gurgling was all that came when he tried to form speech. His muscles pulsated in convulsive spasms as he made an effort to force a physical reaction. The complete lack of coordination and uncontrollable tremors only added to his overall distress.
"Temper, temper," She scolded, shaking her finger at him. The frenzied jerking and vibrating of his body provided her with plenty of amusement as she stood before him. "Hmm, so…Spikey baby, I think you're going to need a bit of adjustment just so you don't ruin our fun once this immobilized state begins really lifting." Her expression filled with consternation as she pondered all the options available to her when it came to further torment.
"Remember, sister of mine, we don't want to exterminate him, only keep him cooperative until the necessary information can be extracted." Luthor reminded moving to tighten the chain securing his ankles and add another heavy carabiner to the manacles on his arms. He secured it to a heavy weight chain looped around the pole once then fed under the leg chain and attached to a second cinder block placed vertically on the floor behind the first one, putting the combined weight of both atop the chains. All slack was then removed by rolling the added block over the chain so that the additional weight kept it under a constant, but easily adjustable, tension.
"Hhht—ths," Spike moaned, the added tension sending harsh spasms radiating along his spine and fiery knives arcing through his shoulders and into his chest. The tremors intensified and his pupils grew glassy in response to the now continuous discomfort brought on by her torment and the random, frenzied seizing of his muscles. Thick frothy sputum and dark blood bubbled from his nose and heavy white foam seeped up in sticky wads at the corners of his mouth. Bloody saliva continued to pool along the metal carabiner in his tongue before dropping in long wet ropes that now stretched all the way to the floor. "Th-th-aowaee…" Nothing but incoherent babble came forth before his mind sank back into addled disorientation.
"Cute Spikey," She raked his face and put pressure against his chin, exacerbating his pain, "You are such fun." Her gaze turned cold, "I have a surprise for you." From within her robe she pulled three more bright red carabiners, all of them weighted metal with two that were only slightly smaller in size than the one currently filling the still bleeding hole in his tongue. "Now, let's adjust this so you can't fuss too much." With that, she opened the heavier one and linked it with the one in his tongue, setting it so it laid flat and created a double tiered bar along the width of his tongue. She then attached the smaller carabiners to it, one on each side, and fastened the free ends to the metal ring that held his mouth agape. "Mhmm, I thought you would love it." With exaggerated motion she took items from a pocket-sized box her brother held open to her. "Just one more thing, and then we'll give you a little vacation."
Even if he was able to consciously control his body, the additional carabiners created enough pressure to keep his tongue extended and effectively prevent any sort of coherent verbal response. The excess weight quadrupled the already near unbearable oral pain and further aggravated the pierced flesh so that blood burst up around the hole and turned the foam leaking from his mouth a deep, dark crimson. Salty discharge dampened the corners of his eyes as he feebly pled with her to stop.
"Oh, not yet, almost though," She insisted putting a drop of gungy, inky colored fluid at the base of the carabiner where it penetrated his tongue and relishing, with great pleasure, the instantaneous reaction.
Red streaks snaked from the entry point, leaving in their wake angry feverish flesh that moved quickly from his tongue into his mouth and throat. Inflammation followed, the puffiness spreading rapidly until the swelling of his oral cavity made his cheeks pooch and puffy bags formed beneath his eyes. The pressure against the metal ring increased as inflamed tissues pressed in around it. The ring tightened around his tongue causing diminished circulation and purplish discoloration of the flesh. His lips puffed up, growing thick and oversized like water balloons being filled with deep blue-violet shaving cream. He foamed at the mouth like a rabid animal and sticky, amber and green colored sputum drained from his nose. The amount of foam in conjunction with the excruciating pain set him into a fit of strangled groaning and wet, feeble hissing.
She rubbed her fingers along his horribly swollen cheeks, now sweat covered and flushed with spiking fever. "A type of poison, pet. It's brutal but doesn't always terminate existence. You, however will beg for such relief or an antidote within mere hours. There's a slew of varied symptoms all of which will come on gradually and morph and worsen over time." A single nail, she then drug down his injured tongue; torturing him with added discomfort.
More salty discharge streamed from eyes that were streaked with bright red and rimmed in puffy, crusted rash-like rings. He stared at her, his expression pleading for a reprieve from a now excruciating pounding that radiated through his skull and down into his neck. "Umghaahss...umlk…," His throat closed, his esophagus constricting in painful cramps as the poison continued acting upon the tissues and seeping into his blood. Huge, raw blisters, filled with thick yellowish-green fluid began forming in his oral and sinus cavities and spread down his throat. His eyes blinked raggedly and piteous, weak cries came as the pain grew in intensity. The blistering overtook his tongue and lips and a weepy, feverish rash broke out along his torso. Through blurred vision, he could only watch as she placed another dose of the gungy ink onto the still hemorrhaging hole in his tongue.
"Now for your little vacation. It will make a difference." The lid was removed from a small dark green bottle as she knelt before him. "You have no choice, Spikey, my pet," She insisted putting her hand against his forehead and placing the bottle, so that it touched skin, beneath his nostrils. "Your mind must be primed for extraction."
Burning fire penetrated his nostrils and crawled through his blistered sinus cavities before sinking down the back of his throat. He let off distressed, feeble chuffing cries as his inflamed oral passages were agitated by the noxious fumes emanating from the bottle. A stifling sensation as if sticky sputum were dripping or bubbling within his normally dormant lungs sent him into a fit of hoarse, frantic dry heaving. The intense spell forced his chest to expand in a series of ragged, struggled breaths. The super-fine powder entered his nostrils and the stressed, unnecessary breaths grew frenzied before slowly developing into a wheezy, fast rhythm. The powder acted upon his central nervous system, hijacking specific sets of nerves to produce erroneous synapse signals that kept his entire respiratory tract in a state of painful, irritated hyperactivity. The resulting tenderness coupled with false command indicators placed his respiratory system into a reflexive cycle of continuous, empty, inhalation.
The world spun violently and his vision tunneled as the full effect of the powder began to overwhelm him. "Unhhak…ukynn," He choked, the barely audible vocalization causing the blisters in his throat to leak. The fluid burned surrounding tissues while further spreading the poison. The sound became more hapless, broken snorting than speech as his mind was overcome by an insatiable need to sleep. His gaze clouded over and he blinked raggedly as the grogginess strengthened.
"Shh," She soothed keeping the bottle beneath his nose and pressing his eyes closed with her free hand. "Just breathe pet, breathe and stop fighting," The pressure against his eyes, she held until she felt the tension in their lids totally dissipate, then gradually, she lifted her hand. The state of deep pseudo-sleep would last several hours and even locked within its depths would provide no relief from the pain of physical torture or the poison. She secured the lightweight, plastic bottle beneath his nose with a wide strip of duct tape, leaving it open for a short time as he continued to reflexively inhale the powder even though he was no longer conscious. After a good fifteen minutes, she merely replaced the lid. The drug would further weaken his mind so that when he did finally awaken, he would be ripe for extracting the needed information but too ill from the poison and too dampened mentally to be overly combative.