AN: Torture scene ahead - reader discretion advised
Ryou stared up at the ceiling, not bothering to struggle against his restraints. He had done so for the first five minutes, realizing that the fabric binding his wrists and ankles was too strong. And since Namu hadn't said or done anything yet, Ryou felt no desire to burn any energy that could be used formulating some plan to escape.
Despite how slim those chances were becoming.
Ryou felt like a patient, institutionalized and not allowed to leave. The bindings reminded him that he was a prisoner and that this was not for his own benefit. Well, that and the fact that a mad sociopath was busy setting up instruments of torture, carefully and meticulously bringing in various tools to dissect and take apart the detective. Ryou didn't want to think about what would happen, choosing to shift into a more comfortable position on the hard hospital bed.
Ryou didn't know what to do at this point. He needed to think of some way to distract Namu. He couldn't count on an outside force intervening. He had done everything in his power to prolong his life span, thinking of various methods to get the word out and leave clues leading the police back to them. But Ryou wasn't sure if they would solve it in time.
Had Ryou done enough? Would they find him before it was too late? Or would Namu torture him until his grisly but inevitable death before skipping town, escaping all repercussions for his actions?
Ryou forced himself to breathe deeply. Panic couldn't help him. He relied on logic and deduction. Yet, bindings dug into his wrists, reminding him of how powerless he was. Perhaps Namu was ordinary and no god, but that didn't take away the power he held over his life.
Finally, Namu stepped into view, light illuminating his features as he drew close. Ryou couldn't see all that had he brought over, but perhaps it was best to not let his imagination wander and consider all the ways a human could die. Namu gave him a smirk, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
"How's my patient feeling?" he teased, his hand resting on Ryou's hip. Even with the slightest graze, the pain prickled up through his body, reminding Ryou of the bullet that had not yet been removed.
"Meh. I've had worse days," Ryou shrugged, refusing to let Namu see his pain. He didn't want to feed the madman's ego. He knew that Namu sought the satisfaction of his suffering and he would be disappointed because Ryou was damn sure he wouldn't give him that much.
"Don't worry. I'll be certain to take care of that," Namu growled, his smile growing. Namu didn't seem disappointed by Ryou's resistance. In fact, he probably saw it as a challenge. That's all this ever was between them – a challenge. A constant fight to see who was stronger, who was smarter, who would win.
Ryou was worried that he staked too much on this battle of egos.
"So how are you going to kill me? Dissection, I assume? Or do you plan on being a bit more creative than usual?" Ryou asked. Perhaps he could get Namu monologuing long enough until he came up with some manner of escape. Unlikely but it was worth a shot.
"Please, detective. I'm a man of science and art. There are certain things you can't learn from corpses," Namu retorted, leaving momentarily. Ryou heard the sound of metal shifting, but couldn't see what was going on.
"Such as?"
Namu returned, carrying a short metal rod. The end glowed white, tinging into red as the heat tapered off. The sight caused Ryou's heart to clench, his mind already racing.
"Humans have an astonishing pain tolerance. They reach a point where something is so painful and damaging to the body that they can't process pain any longer. The nerve endings become too damaged, see?"
Despite being bound, Ryou felt himself press against the bed and away from Namu. This did little as Namu drew close, Ryou's skin tingling at the searing heat nearby. The lavender eyes flicked up, a look of delight on his face. "How does one straddle the line between pain and numbness? Where does each person draw the line?"
Namu lowered the rod, Ryou feeling the heat radiating as he drew it closer to his chest. Ryou couldn't control the panicked note in his breathing, struggling to remain calm as his body anticipated the pain.
"Is that what each of those prostitutes was to you then? A science experiment?"
Namu shrugged. "Perhaps. I'm also a man of art."
"You'd fail an art class with the horrid mess you left behind."
"They say artists go unappreciated in their time. I'm inclined to agree." Namu didn't say anything more as the metal touched the pale skin, just right of Ryou's sternum.
Ryou flinched, eyes slamming shut. The hot metal seared his skin, pain erupting immediately upon contact. Ryou snapped his head away, as if looking away could make the heat disappear. Unlike the initial sting of his previous wounds, the heat continued to grow, expanding in his chest until it became unbearable. A noise escaped his lips before he could stop himself, a pitiful cry, tears pricking in the corner of his eyes.
Even after the metal left his skin seconds later, Ryou felt his skin still burning at the contact. It was as if the fire never left, his skin too hot and likely melting from the burning touch. His stomach wretched, threatening empty what little remained in Ryou's stomach. He tore his head to the side, taking in a shaky breath. Several seconds of dry heaving left Ryou feeling sweaty and drained, his eyes finally fluttering open.
He didn't even need to look to see Namu grinning from his spot to the side.
"There's a debate among doctors as to what is the most painful experience known to man. They say that burning is one of the most painful ways to die." Namu chuckled, turning back to heat the metal up again. "I've heard scaphism is worse, but frankly I don't have the patience nor the time to observe that at the moment. I'll have to add that to my bucket list."
Ryou tried to muster some sort of retort, but the words were snatched from his lips when the hot rod returned to his skin a second time. Just to the left of the first burn, the heat returned, blistering white flashing into Ryou's vision. He inhaled sharply, biting his lip as he tried not to think of the scent of his burning flesh that caught his nose.
Though it was only a few more seconds, the metal did not leave his skin soon enough. He knew that there would be blisters and awful scabbing before this was done. He tried to open his eyes, but darkness danced across his vision. Ryou became lucid, stuck between consciousness and unconsciousness.
Namu was a patient man, unfortunately.
When Ryou's breaths finally steadied and the darkness faded from the corner of his vision, Namu stood nearby, a wide grin on his face. He tsked mockingly at the detective.
"Passing out after two scars? Is that all you've got? How far can you go, detective? What will it take? I'm dying to know what will break you."
In that moment, Ryou knew he could not give Namu what he wanted. He knew that he sought the satisfaction of torturing him. Ryou still had his pride, if nothing else. Even as the hot metal seared his skin a third time, right below his sternum, he gritted his teeth, muffling the scream that slipped through.
He would not beg nor plea for mercy. Such things were a waste of energy. He needed to survive. He needed to escape…
… But any thoughts of hatching a new plan ceased, his mind scrambled by the bursts of sudden pain erupting across his chest. He couldn't formulate any possible schemes when the pain blinded him to everything. Each time the hot metal returned to his skin, Ryou couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't think, even though that was his only hope of survival.
After the fourth mark, Namu leaned back, a frown on his face. Ryou, while unable to bite back his pained cries, managed not to pass out this time. He didn't want to urge Namu into thinking of some new ways of torturing him, but had little choice on the manner. For now, the cool air was a refreshing reprieve to his tortured skin when compared to the heated metal.
Namu turned away, shaking his head. "It's like you want me to suffer, Ryou."
Ryou tipped his head back, exhausted and weak. He wasn't sure how much fight he still had in him but he was going to find out. "Good. Didn't want you to get the wrong impression."
Namu cackled, his blond head tipping back. "God, I fucking hate you. I want to make sure you know that when I finally decide to kill you."
Namu smirked as he turned around, the metal rod still in hand. Ryou was confused, surprised that they were continuing this torture further. He had thought Namu grew bored with it. But the wicked smile on his face had Ryou's chest hurting in a new way. "I'll have you begging for mercy before I'm done with you."
Before Ryou could ask, the metal returned, the fifth one to be added to the set. The heat that continued to radiate suddenly exploded, the damaged, blistered skin exposed. The cool air had tricked his body into relaxing, convinced the worst had passed. The brief reprieve only made the burn even worse in the end. The pain was paralyzing, shooting up through Ryou's body until his breath froze. It was too much, his mind shattering at the reapplied fire to his body.
Namu didn't give Ryou a chance to catch his breath, digging into the skin and holding down longer. Ryou had been fighting for too long, desperate to win this battle of minds. But his body was already caving, any remaining pride being swallowed up by the fire consuming his mind and body.
Ryou screamed, blacking out a second time, knowing that he would be awoken for even more punishment to follow.
Malik leaned against the edge of the building. He hated all the waiting and damn bureaucracy that slowed everything. He understood why Ryou never bothered going through the police department for half of his work – he would waste most of his time waiting for things to happen.
Still, Malik recognized that they needed to set a perimeter. And as the police moved into position, posted at each building around the block, on rooftops, a squad to the sewers, the reality of it all started to sink in. They were about to rush into the hospital and capture Jack the Ripper.
Malik forced himself to swallow the hard lump caught in his throat. He could hear people moving and running through the rain, puddles splashing dirty water onto his coat. Malik couldn't be bothered by such a thing. Instead, he kept his gaze focused on the pistol in his hand. The same weapon handed to him when they had first staked out their initial trap to capture Namu.
Malik hadn't given the gun much thought when he got it. He had assumed the police would move in and he would need the weapon in self-defense. But the situation had changed now that Namu had a hostage and Ryou was in danger. Malik had never asked if he was ready to shoot somebody. Defend himself, perhaps, but aim to kill was a different matter.
"Malik, are you going with a-team or b-team?" Kaiba sounded like his usual, irritable self as he crossed the pathway towards the hospital.
Malik turned his gaze back up, the pistol still in his hand. "A-team." Kaiba had given him the option to stand guard outside or move in with the interception team to confront and catch Namu. He knew that he should have promised his sister better regard for his safety, but he was taking after a certain detective too much. Standing by idly was not an option in Malik's mind.
Kaiba didn't say anything, his eyes narrowing at the large, gray building before them. Malik ignored the rain falling into his face, studying the labyrinth before them. Having the floorplans to the building would have been preferable, but since Yugi didn't have them any longer, they would have to go in blind. They could only hope that Namu hadn't been alerted to their presence yet.
"Ever fired a gun before?" Kaiba's words wound through the rain, catching Malik off guard. He glanced up at the commissioner, who kept his gaze forward.
Malik sighed, looking down at the pistol in his hand. "No."
Kaiba crossed his arms, several officers moving to join them. "Preferably, we would have taught you more, so here's a quick run down on how to not fuck up. Firstly, don't shoot unless you mean to. I don't want any friendly fire going on in that building. Watch for the kickback when you fire or else you'll find you've dropped your gun."
Malik knew that Kaiba was being both a jackass and somewhat facetious with him. Still, he took in the advice, trying to calm his nerves. "Okay, anything else?"
"So long as you also know how to properly load and unload the gun, we should be good."
Malik nodded. "Duke showed me that much. Didn't have much time at the shooting range, if any." He returned the gun to the holster. He intended to use the weapon as a last resort, to ensure his and Ryou's survival, but he didn't know how he would react when finally put under pressure.
Kaiba snorted, but didn't say anything else. He, too, was occupied by their impending mission.
The six other men reached them, forming a loose circle so that Kaiba could give orders. The officers came ready with lanterns and weapons, a grim look on their face. The only one who looked out of place was Bakura, who was still garbed in his usual attire. His sweater and coat were all but soaked as he tied his white hair back into a loose ponytail.
Kaiba gave them all a sharp look, his gaze enough to silence any muttering about the group. "Our sources tell us that Jack the Ripper is in that building. Our mission is simple – detain Namu and ascertain Ryou's whereabouts. If you're able, escort the detective off the premises so as to remove any potential hostage situations."
"And if Namu resists?" Duke asked, adjusting his gloves.
Kaiba gave him a dark look, Malik unsure if he saw his lips twitch into a smile briefly. "Then you have permission to shoot to kill."
Nods rippled through the circle. Bakura ignored them, his eyes fixed on the building. Malik crossed his arms, a shiver running through him as the cold rain was starting to chill him to his bone.
Kaiba turned his attention to the conman. Malik had expected the commissioner to turn down his aid, but perhaps he was as desperate as Malik was. "Bakura, have you found a way of entry?"
Bakura cracked his knuckles, looking back at the hospital. "All of the main floor entrances have been blocked. It seems he barricaded them from the inside."
Malik frowned, turning back to the commissioner. "Have we found the sewer entry point?"
Kaiba shook his head. "Not yet. Any ideas on getting in?"
Bakura sighed, swinging his arms as he stretched them. "There's an office window on the second floor. If I can climb my way in, I can let you guys in from the inside by removing the barricade."
There was an awkward silence that followed, Malik flicking his lavender eyes back to Kaiba. He knew that this was an uneasy alliance between the three of them. Of all of them, Bakura seemed to have the least reason to be there, yet insisted on helping Ryou out to call it even. He knew that this was suspicious to Kaiba and he wasn't sure if he would be sold on this idea.
Kaiba's dark brown hair hung into his face, studying the white-haired criminal before him. The idea of letting him wander the building before they could properly search the premises was risky on multiple levels. It was risky if Bakura decided to betray them, meaning that Namu would have time to escape. It was risky if Bakura was caught and Namu realized this new trap.
It was risky because they were running out of time and options.
Perhaps that risk was the greatest of all and the one that rang in all of their minds. Kaiba growled, walking towards the entrance. "You have five minutes to get us in. If not, I will personally file the paperwork for your arr-"
"Blah, blah, blah, throw my ass in jail, blah, blah, blah, put me on death row – I know this shtick by now, commissioner," Bakura complained up to the sky, splitting off from the group. How the two managed to remain as irritable and annoying as always was unfathomable to Malik.
Malik watched Bakura walk around the corner of the building, following the group as they moved towards the main set of doors. Though he was getting better at faces, only Kaiba and Duke were recognizable. They stood under the awning, shielding themselves from the rain as they waited for the door to open.
Malik hated how they all stood there silently. There was none of the friendly banter and annoyed mutterings he had gotten used to on the stake outs. The silence was more harrowing, leaving Malik to think about what he was doing. He didn't want to think. He just wanted to move and get this done.
"I swear to god, if Bakura is warning Namu, I will tie the noose around his neck myself," Kaiba growled none to quietly.
Malik sighed. Of course that was what ate the commissioner up. "He'll get us in. I believe him."
"Thanks babe. I think you're pretty sexy too."
Malik swore, jumping back as Bakura opened the door to the hospital. He had a large smirk on his face, taunting Malik to test him.
Malik felt his face burn, trying to ignore the darkness beyond. "Fuck off, you prat. Now I know why Ryou hated dealing with you."
Bakura laughed, stepping back as Duke passed him. Malik followed after the officers, drawing his pistol. He didn't have time to think about the thief any longer. The darkness engulfed them, the rain a distant murmur behind them as they entered the decrepit hospital.
Malik didn't release his breath until the lanterns were lit. It was still evening, but the storm outside dampened any light that could have slipped in. Kaiba walked ahead, pausing as he looked around. "We'll break into four teams, taking a separate wing each. Clear each floor before moving to the next."
Malik didn't argue with that logic. A quick look at Duke was enough to affirm their team. Despite his nerves, Malik felt better about moving, finally having a direction and purpose. Duke inclined his head, moving left towards the east wing. They travelled all the way down to the end doors, mirroring each other down the hallway.
Duke turned back to talk to Malik. "This place is huge, so I recommend we each take a side and examine each room as we're able. Once we ascertain that the floor is clear, we'll move up to the next."
Malik nodded, a hand resting on the pistol holstered at his side. Even though Duke remained calm and hadn't even drawn his weapon, Malik couldn't shake his nerves. "Understood. Let's get this over with."
Duke snorted, but said nothing. They both split as they went down the hallway. Initially, Malik felt hesitant, as if there was a bomb behind each door. However, this fear turned to annoyance since most of the doors were locked and the few that opened held nothing, showing only storage or old hospital rooms. Nothing in these rooms indicated any use.
Malik supposed that with a building this big, most of the resources would be untouched. Namu wouldn't need all of the rooms, so it made sense that most of them looked untouched since being marked off for fire damage. Still, Malik felt antsy to get moving as he waited for Duke. Apparently more doors were unlocked on his side but no trace of the detective or the serial killer.
The second floor was much the same and even Duke couldn't hide his growing annoyance. That left the third floor and Malik could only hope they found him quickly or that one of the other teams had located him. Duke tilted his head back as they climbed the last set of stairs.
"Maybe he's not here at all?"
Malik shook his head. "Isis said they were in a hospital. This is the only logical option. Also, why barricade it from the inside?"
"Fair point. Maybe he's hiding, or he got out ahead of us, though," Duke frowned, rounding the corner as they reached the final flight.
Malik snorted, looking down. "I certainly hope not."
Malik paused as he stared at the floorboard beneath him. There was a strange discoloration. He lowered the lantern a bit more, noticing the rusty smears against the metal tiles. He froze. Malik wasn't certain, but he suspected that this wouldn't have happened when the hospital was still active.
Malik looked, noticing how the blood smeared, trailing down from where they came. Malik turned back around, his heart thudding as he started to descend.
"Malik?"
He snapped his head back to Duke, who gave him a nonplussed expression.
"I want to check something out. Go on ahead," Malik responded, still going down the stairs.
He heard Duke mutter under his breath, a hint of annoyance. "Right. Let's split up and look for a serial killer. Sounds like a great plan, commissioner." Perhaps it was dangerous, but Kaiba gave orders that the secondary team follow after them in a half-hour's time. They wouldn't be so stupid as to divide up their forces that much.
Malik's steps echoed down the stairwell, following the rust trail that was left behind. He got all the way to the first floor, confused when he saw the trail continue around the corner. The stairs didn't go any lower. It seemed to end before a heavy door that Malik had assumed led outside. He didn't think Namu would take his victim outside.
Thinking for a moment, Malik lowered his lantern, moving to try opening the door. The door was heavy, barely moving. He threw his weight against it, the door cracking up open a bit more. Malik noticed that it led downward to a basement. The torches were lit down the stairwell, revealing the bread crumb trail he had been following.
Malik's heart started to race, as he squeezed through the opening. He descended down the stairs, terrified at going in blind. He paused at the door at the end of the stairwell, twisting the knob to find that it was locked.
In his gut, Malik knew that Namu was down here. He also had enough sense to know that he needed to get back up. Malik started to run up the stairs, meaning to grab Duke or whoever was nearby to provide him cover (or them cover since Malik had the least amount of experience).
That was the plan until Malik heard an awful scream.
Malik froze in his steps, panic consuming him. The noise had come from behind the locked door, doubtful that anyone else would have heard it in this massive building, hidden in the corner away from the world. Malik raced back down, hands trembling as he shook at the locked handle in frustration.
Malik knelt down, fingers fumbling as he tried to pick the lock. He couldn't steady his hands enough, the thin rod slipping and not catching the pegs as they needed to. Malik swore under his breath, realizing that this was a different lock than the ones he had grown accustomed to. These were an older model, stiff and reluctant to open.
"Fuck!" Malik tossed the broken rod away, moving to find something else he could use to open the door. That search was cut short when he heard another scream, distressed and sharper than the one previous.
Malik leapt back to his feet, his hands suddenly steady as he unholstered his gun. He held the pistol with both hands as he aimed at the lock. Reckless or not, he wouldn't, he couldn't let Ryou die.
Malik pulled the trigger, the sound echoing with the scream that filled the hospital.
