Chapter Thirty Seven
Rating/Warning: MA for STRONG mentions of rape and torture
Disclaimer: Song and lyrics belong to The Rolling Stones
Cody swallowed hard as tears broke free from the strong hold he'd had over them, his entire body still utterly cold and exhausted as it stayed stretched and bound across Christopher's fucked up table of pure torture. He'd been tied down for all over ten minutes but before that...He shuddered at the thought because, before that? After getting knocked out on the shore Michael woke him up in the deeper disgusting hollows of the Underground and tossed him in a giant shower room; along with three other men who one of which had been yes, David Otunga. As much as he wished it were, that hadn't been a lie. David and the other two had violated him over and over until they were completely spent and left him in a drugged daze beneath the hot spray of the showers. And now he was on Christopher's table; tied down, beaten, hurting, completely exhausted but coming down from the daze, and on the verge of giving up hope. But who could blame him? At this point Cody's mind was so emotionally fucked he didn't know if he'd ever truly recover from all of this. He may never be whole again and with that came the horrifying truth that he'd been right about himself all along. He'd never be good enough for Randy. Ever. Even if somehow they made it out of all of this he'd always been tainted, ruined even. Randy just had to think that!-! How could he not after everything?-! REALLY? HOW COULD HE NOT?-! And then Randy, the poor bastard, if they DIDN'T make it out of this Randy might die knowing that he lost his life protecting some worthless whore. That's what Cody was actually crying about now. That's what weighed down the small bit of hope he still had left. That much Michael had managed to take from him as one last final 'fuck you' before he died.
Of course he was terrified to be bound to Christopher's table but truthfully his heart hurt more than anything else. He'd put Randy threw so much already and now this. Now he was going to have to watch Christopher torture him to death and then meet his own likely fate. That is, unless Michael kept Randy alive for a while and really fucked him up before killing him. Randy would still have to watch him die but after that he might actually be the unlucky one. Christopher just might torture him a lot longer; doing every unthinkable thing that sadistic bastard could think of and only kill him when Michael gave him the order. And who knows how long that might take! Days, weeks, months! Michael was capable of anything that twisted!
He fought so hard not to cry but after David had brought Randy in, he just couldn't help it. Randy was utterly and completely fucked and it was all his fucking fault! If he had just told Michael to kill him weeks ago when he came to him with the idea of bringing Randy in against his will none of this would have happened! Randy would be safe from all of this! He'd be free from having ever known such a worthless tramp like him and he wouldn't be in this fucking mess! He'd be safe and sound and Michael would probably be behind bars where he belonged! But no he'd skillfully distracted Randy just enough and brought the poor bastard down with him because he was so fucking selfish he didn't care about what it might to do him! His head was so turned around that he didn't care about anyone else but himself because his pain, his crippling anguish drove him to horrible depths of despair that he'd ever known. Fuck he tried for so long but as hard as he fought it in the beginning Michael STILL turned him into a cold, twisted monster just like the rest of them and ultimately? Randy paid the heavy price. And that's what made it so unfair. Randy didn't deserve any of this! He was just a NICE guy trying to do his fucking job by keeping psycho's like Michael and Christopher off the streets! He'd never done anything to anyone to deserve the bullshit hand he'd been dealt and now he was going to fucking die because of some worthless whore's selfish decision to try and save his own fucking skin while serving up a nice dish of cold hearted revenge that Randy didn't fucking deserve! It just wasn't right!
He silently cursed himself and his tears as they continued to fall, knowing they would only fuel their sadistic captor into doing more, heinous, torturous acts on his already horribly abused body. Not that Christopher had even begun to make him feel pain. Oh he might be covered in painful welts from a sound beating with a belt but that was nothing compared to what he'd seen Christopher do to other people on his table. He knew he was in for far much worse, especially if he continued to cry. He took a deep, somewhat calming breath and concentrated on stopping his tears as he stared up at the tall, flat, black painted ceiling of the room he'd recognized as Christopher's play room; something he'd had the displeasure of seeing quite a few times before when he'd been forced to watch others suffer under that sadistic bastards cruel hands and his shiny metal instruments. The room was cold; uncomfortably damp and tucked away deep underground so it had that earthy, basement like stench that was pungent enough to taste. There was a single light hanging above him, shinning bright but otherwise providing poor lightening around them so that everything including Randy seemed more distant, more...out of reach. Not that he could reach for anything; his hands were strapped firmly by the wrists to the table, his stomach and legs bound as well and making it so that he literally couldn't do more than squirm against his binds. Fuck Christopher had him good..
His tears finally stopped but he cringed and fought off a sob that well and burned in his throat when Christopher came a little too close.
Oh god this was so fucking BAD. He turned his head to gaze at Randy, his heart aching so horribly for one last touch, one last kiss and he could die in a peaceful place! He found his frantic blue eyes and tried to imagine sitting up, free of the straps, and running to him, diving into his arms that always made him feel so safe. There he would escape to such a perfect place, flee to it within Randy's arms and never come back. And Christopher couldn't take that from him. No one could. That was their connection, their deep, everlasting bond that despite all of Michael's efforts still refused to break. He only wished he'd realized that sooner, before all of this. And, even if Cody didn't believe he deserved it, the bond was still there and right now it was the only thing they had left.
He continued to gaze longingly at Randy, swallowing hard as he spoke to him without words he pretended that he just might hear, "Please don't watch what he does to me Randy. Just close your eyes and dream with me baby. We'll go far away from here; far away from these bastards and their cruel hands!" He could feel Christopher moving about around him, getting closer, so close he felt his jump-suit brushing against his skin. He shivered, biting back a whimper as he forced himself to speak to Randy with his eyes, silently pleading for him to hear him even though he knew he couldn't possibly. "Please baby dream with me! Dream with me and we'll be free!" He trembled hard as he watched out of the corner of his eye as Christopher lifted a shiny black bat from beneath the table and gasped as the demented bastard started tapping the tip against his shoulder to grab his attention. "I've changed my mind." Christopher sighed, eyeing the bat as he glided a hand up and down the entire length from top to handle. "I want to break something first." Cody held his breath a he lowered the tip to his chest, smirking as he started to drag it downwards towards his stomach. "How about those pretty knee's, hmm? That sounds like a good place to start? Ooo or maybe your ribs?" He paused as he trailed the bat sideways along a rib just above his heart, chuckling softly as he moved onto another one and did the same thing, "Nah, that might kill you and we wouldn't want that to happen so soon now would we?" Cody shook his head, having seen Chris hurt someone so many times to know he was better off answering him rather than not. "No Sir." The more he responded the less Christopher grew anxious or excited. Meaning it bought them that much more time before Christopher rocketed into a sadistic, cutting, fucking, beating frenzy, and killed him.
He gulped as Christopher moved the bat away from his chest, dropping it to his abdomen and circling his naval slowly. "No, I won't hit your ribs. Not yet. But, I've always wondered something," Christopher's eyes darkened, his face tightening into a cruel smile as he slid the bat lower, pressing it hard between his legs. "Have you ever been fucked with a bat, Cody? I'd imagine someone must have thought of this by now?" Cody gulped, losing the battle with his body and shaking uncontrollably as the bat pressed against his balls. No he'd never been fucked with a bat! A few other things but never a bat! But fuck did he lie and say yes and hope that would spare him? Or would that make it worse? Would that make Christopher want to prove something?-! "Never!" He made the quickly decision to be honest, jerking away from the bat as far as he could. "That would probably kill me!"
"Perhaps," Christopher agreed with a quick nod but kept the bat where it was. "Or perhaps it will just cause you excruciating pain?-?" He ended his question with a hiss, sliding the bat lower to his hole. "I believe it will be the later."
"Cody!-!" He heard Randy call again but kept his eyes on Christopher, watching his every move and waiting for him to strike. He knew he would do it so unexpectedly, so quickly that he wouldn't have the time to brace himself for the pain. Or in this case the impact when the bat tore its way into his body.
Christopher ignored Randy, he must have because he didn't so much as flinch or blink; instead closing his mouth and began to softly hum. Cody held his breath as he grew louder, the tune echoing from Christopher's throat was a familiar song he must have heard Christopher sing a thousand times before. And now, quite possibly, it would be the last. "I see a red door and I want it painted black. No colors anymore I want them to turn black…" He hummed faster between the lyrics, keeping up with a beat that no one else could hear. "I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes. I have to turn my head until my darkness goes…" Cody shook violently with fear, his heart pounding in his throat as Christopher continued to sing as he suddenly brought the bat high above his head, swinging it back and forth; teasing him, dragging out his next horrible act to inflict as much fear as possible. And it worked. Cody squirmed against the table, eyes wide as he frantically tried to get away. "I see a line of cars and they're all painted black. With flowers and my love, both never to come back. I see people turn their heads and quickly look away. Like a newborn baby it just happens every day…" Christopher kept singing and swinging, his voice growing louder and louder as Cody squirmed until he could no more and fell slack and breathless against the table.
That was it. It was over. All the strength he had left wasted in a matter of seconds against the leather that hadn't broken and set him free. He was just too weak! Oh god he couldn't stop him! And fuck was Christopher going to hit him with the bat or fuck him with it?-! Oh god he didn't know! He didn't know!-!
Tears sprang from his eyes and spilled freely once again as he anxiously waited for Christopher to deliver the first blow, dropping his head to see Randy, hoping his eyes that he wished wouldn't watch might actually comfort him.
But they weren't there.
In fact, nothing was. It was just a big open space against the wall now…
And Randy was just, gone.