By the time the man returned later that day John could barely see out of his left eye it was so bruised and swollen. The rest of his face wasn't looking any better either. The man stood admiring his handy work for a moment. "Ready for round 2 John?" He laughed as he walked over to the camera and got it ready to record. John felt the hate rising inside him as he watched the man walk away. He knew that whatever was coming in the next few minutes it was definitely not going to be pleasant.
When the man stood beside John again he spoke "So Sherlock what do you think?" He took hold of John's face roughly and pointed it towards the camera. He squeezed the bruises with his fingers making John wince from the pain. "The question is what area of his body do we want to damage this time? Any suggestions? No? Well I guess I'll have to decide for myself then won't I?" With that he released John's face and flexed his fingers for dramatic effect before making his hands into fists and setting about John's chest and stomach with a flurry of punches that took his breath away.
John groaned slightly as the punches landed. He gritted his teeth and tried his best to remain calm and quiet. He didn't want to give this bastard the satisfaction of hearing him cry out. Each punch felt harder than the last although John realised this might just be because the later punches were landing on areas already bruising from the earlier ones. One punch landed hard on his chest and John heard a crack. He knew one of his ribs had broken. His doctor's instincts kicked in as he tried to move slightly in the chair to protect this area from the punches that still reigned down. He knew that if another punch landed in that area it could push his already broken rib into his lung causing major problems as he wasn't likely to get it treated anytime soon.
More and more punches hit John's already battered body. Every one that landed caused a shockwave of agony to flow through him. He was finding it harder and harder to stay quiet. The pain was intense and all he really wanted to do was yell and scream but the soldier in him knew that would only make things worse. It would only inspire this sadist to carry on with this torment for longer.
After what seemed like a lifetime to John the punches finally stopped. Every breath he took was now its own kind of torture but that was to be expected with bruising all round his chest and at least one broken rib. John swallowed hard trying to get the pain under control. Trying not to let his attacker see how much agony he was actually in. The last thing he wanted to do was give him the satisfaction of seeing the discomfort he'd caused.
The man turned back towards the camera. "John's pretty tough isn't he? Didn't cry out once. I'm impressed." Then without warning he grabbed the middle finger on John's right hand and twisted it until it snapped. The sudden shock and intensity of the pain made John cry out. "There I knew that would work because I broke this one earlier when you weren't watching." With that he squeezed John's little finger that he'd broken before. Again John couldn't help but scream. The agony was just too much. "Just wanted you to hear him suffer Sherlock." The man laughed. "Oh and one last thing before I go. How's your brother? Hm? I'd like to be able to tell you how my brother is but I don't have one anymore." As he spoke these words John could hear the anger in his voice. The man suddenly turned and landed one last punch to John's ribs even harder than before. John heaved as the intense pain almost made him sick. Without another word the man turned and walked away.
When he was alone again John slowly moved himself in the chair. He needed to find the position that made it easiest for him to breathe because right now he was finding that difficult. Every breath was agony but he knew he had to breathe as normally as possible to prevent a chest infection making things worse. As he moved he felt every injury the man had inflicted. His whole body was a mass of pain. He felt tired and though part of him knew he should stay alert, ready in case the man returned and made a mistake that would offer him a way out, he let himself drift off to sleep to escape the pain and torture at least for a little while.