"FUCKKKKKK!!!!"
"STOPPPP!!!!"
"PLEEEEEASE STOPPPPP HURTTTTING ME!!!!!!!"
Jaron yelled out a blood-curdling scream as the drill drove into his hip, blood spurting onto his face, his body clenching with undeniable pain. His eyes were bulging, red veins sprouting in them, his chest heaving and slamming down onto his ribcage.
The drill pulled out of his hip with a sickening pop, it was still whirring, pieces of flesh and blood stuck to it. It shivered again for a minute and then it went completely still.
Jaron sobbed profusely, tears and snot streaming down his face. Blood dripped out of his nose, landing on his cloth. His face was a mess, a complete mess.
His right eye was swollen, and bruises marked his face and body. He was stark naked, welts and cigarette burns on his chest, back, hips, and legs. He was suspended upside down, cross style, blood rushing to his head and making him feel dizzy.
"Please," he sobbed and pleaded. "Please forgive me. I don't know what I did. Please stop hurting me."
Jaron Wells didn't know how he had gotten into this predicament. The last thing he remembered was reading the text on his girlfriend's phone, the anger on his face when he found out she was cheating on him, and now he was here.
He couldn't understand how that was possible. It shouldn't be. He shouldn't be here, he shouldn't be suffering like this. He had done nothing wrong, nothing at all!
Suddenly, he could hear clapping, and he craned his ears to figure out where he was hearing it from. That was when he saw him.
A man stepped out of the shadows and began to walk towards him, still clapping. He wore a white, spotless suit with a red, polished tie. His golden cuffs gleamed in the darkness. But what made Jaron pale in fear was the mask strapped to his face.
A bizarre mask made out of a painfully screaming female, the close-cut blond hair visible, the eyes visible, the teeth visible, the expression suspended in horror. The mask chilled Jaron to the bone.
He watched as the man came closer, closer, closer and closer. It was as if time had become painfully slow. Jaron sucked in a breath, biting his lip so hard it drew blood.
Suddenly, the man was in front of him, gazing down at him with the terrible mask. He stared at him, observing him not as a human being, but as a surgical experiment with unique interest.
"Magnificent." The man opened his mouth and spoke. "Truly Magnificent. You have exceeded my expectations tremendously. "
Jaron shivered in horror at his voice, it was deep, gravelly, the type of voice that Serial killers had when being interrogated.
"I never thought that despite the torture machine. You are still conscious and breathing properly. Whoever sent you to me is a godsend. You will do tremendously for me."
"Please, sir." Jaron sobbed profusely. "Please let me go. I swear on my life I won't tell a living soul.
The man sighed and then bent down, levelling his face towards him. "I just can't allow that, my specimen."
"Why....why are you doing this?" Jaron sobbed, still dripping with blood. "What do you gain from doing this?"
The man kept silent then got up, then gazed out of the broken window in the room. "I.....I am so lonely. "
"I just can't help myself. I can't control it."
He turned. "I can't control the urge inside me. The urge to cause pain, to cause fear, the urge to make you experience terror. It's my purpose, the purpose God bestowed upon me. "
Jaron gazed at him in horror and fear. Thoughts flew around his head. Rapid thoughts. Was he going to die today? Will he ever see his family again? How on earth did he even get himself into this mess?
"You're thinking something."
Jaron snapped out of his thoughts in fear and looked up at the man. He couldn't tell if the man was smiling or angry due to the horrible mask on his face.
The man chuckled at him as if he had done something. "It does matter. You can't escape; no one has. Plus, your family was the one that sold you. Whether you like it or not, you're mine and mine alone. For my amusement. "
'My... family?' Jaron thought in horror. 'That's impossible! My family can't do something like this! They would never do something like this!'
He knew it was true. His family was great; they were loving to him. He knew he had never done anything to warrant something as bad as this.
Suddenly, he heard a door opening, and then two men stepped out of the darkness, wearing jackets and jeans. They both had a white mask on, way less terrible than the one before him.
The man standing before him didn't turn as he spoke. "Hood, I was just about to call you."
He pointed at Jaron, still strapped. "Take him and throw him in with the others. We are finally complete. Tomorrow, we start the games."
The two men didn't say a word, they moved forward and unstrapped Jaron and he dropped to the floor with a thud. One of the men kicked him in the back with what looked like boots.
"Get the fuck up!" The man snarled.
Jaron sobbed a reply. "I can't move."
The other man bent down and smacked him in the mouth, blood spurting from his torn lips. "You only talk when we tell you to talk."
The two men roughly dragged him up and began to drag him away, whimpering in pain and horror as he could see his bone poking out of the torn skin.
Jaron didn't look back , he didn't want to. He did not want to see the horrible mask again, he did not want to see the man again. But he knew that deep in his heart, he was going to see him. It was inevitable, there was no way he was ever going to stop it.
The guards dragged him down a steel hallway, incredibly dark except for a flashing bulb that blinked for a few minutes then went off for ten minutes then it was back on.
Jaron found himself in front of a cage and that was when he was appalled at what he saw. Inside the large but cramped cage were people lying around in the dark. He could tell they were teenagers, a lot of them. Some were sobbing, some were muttering to themselves, some were whispering to one another and some were quiet, maybe even sleeping.
Every single one of them was naked, stark naked. They had nothing on them. The boys wore nothing, the girls had nothing on and their nipples were showing, protruding for the whole world to see. He could see all of them shivering 8n the darkness.
The next thing he knew, a hard kick to the back and he fell roughly inside the cage. A short yell erupted from his mouth in the darkness as his injured leg made contact with the ground before a large kick slammed into his nose, cutting him off.
"Shut up, you filthy black maggot!" A cold female voice announced before it went silent.
Meanwhile, the two men closed the gate and locked it before disappearing with no hope of him escaping. As they left, Jaron curled up in a ball, shivering and then doing his best not to shed tears.