Act 3.5: Spiral of Sin

Harsh was the buzzing light shaking back and forth above the man's head. Swaying to an unknown cause, illuminating the fleshy figure restrained in place beneath its beam giving credence to the agony sustained. Its chain creaked with each wave that came in passing.

'CREAK!'

A chestnut eye welded shut composed by a pink gunk rolling from the lid.

'CREAK!'

Its right bicep gouged by a steel hook, sanitized of previous horrors then scraped of rust. The hook shifted ever so slightly as it connected to the light producing a steady stream of grime from the appendage with a new sway.

'CREAK!'

Making quick note of the scrapes and forced stitches along the skin, the man's attention sought the purple laceration decorated by various swollen black bruises. In the center of the discoloration a piece of white cut through the dark.

'CREAK!'

The ladder shook as the torturer returned to their station. Clothed in a sickly green overcoat with hood as well as matching rain boots, he approached from behind. Unflinchingly he stole the diamond bladed scalpel from the doctor's grip. Shaking off the coat he revealed a wooden mask decorated by three swirls entwining themselves like lovers in a quarrel seemingly painted by finger in a pasty white substance.

The torturer strapped on a series of pieces resembling him in familiarity to a surgeon. A brown cloak fell over his shoulders, draped to just above his boots, meanwhile gloves stained with prior actions were molded to his vein pulsing hands.

Fully dressed, the torturer approached the man, just as he had done all the others. The count had to be somewhere near twelve at this point.

He began by effortlessly ripping the hook from the body's arm displaying a ruined tattoo of an eagle biting an insect's brain.

"URAAAH!" Cried from the body. It had awakened; made alert to the process of impending exercise. The person attempted to raise its hands but discovered too late that either of them were strapped by steel cords to the arms of the chair.

Quickly, this body came to terms with the essence of the situation… he then pleaded with all he could, "Please… I don't get what the fuck you want, but just lemme go, ok?"

All that responded came with a disturbing silence from the masked individual.

"Listen, I- I have family, people who depend on me… I won't say shit, I won't do shit, let's forget about this." The person felt the hypnotizing sway of the light overhead. It was like a presence lying to it of hope, so the man pursued in persuading the mask.

Hacking some rusted blood, the body spat its contents on the floor allowing a stream of red to connect the pool to its lip. "What are you? A hired gun? Some hitman? Well, whatever you are, I can pay you, yeah, that I can do. I know where there's lots of cash. NO! Silver, even some fucking gold bars! It's all yours, just go check and once you got it ya can release me. Right, you can go do that!" Hints of desperation leaked within the pitch to its voice.

Assume the body did, for who else would capture an elite from the Hyenas other than a rival.

In this bout of pleading did the man take subtle looks at the room. Beneath him, the floor was caked in blood, it couldn't be its own, meaning an untold number of others were taken to this exact location. This masked person must be the same one who raided their facilities, capturing their men in the process. This must be the hell they all fell to. So formulated the body's owner within its carapace of thoughts.

Behind the torturer were a pair of feet inching out from the otherwise pitch-black room. An observer to this cruelty, possibly the one with authority. Before the person could look further, the mask came into view not more than three inches in front of its face.

Yet, again, no answer came forth leaving the sound of their breath all that stood in the room. He then left from the spot walking to the back of the chair. The person could no longer see the feet of the man but vaguely was aware of his silhouette resting against the wall.

A sharp tug on its hair flung its gaze to the ceiling only to have its remaining eye focused on a pen thrusted to its attention. The masked person held the pen delicately like he was preparing to write upon some parchment. A droplet of ink bled at the iron tip.

"Wh-wh-what d-do you want?" It stuttered out the question. A question filled to the brim with a desperation that the masked man had not witnessed in so long. Just as it had before, now it invigorated his efforts allowing him to drop the pen's tip closer to the pupil of the sack of flesh.

Then he uttered his first demand since the beginning of the show. "Were you the one who ordered the arson attack on the apartment complex six weeks, four days and approximately four hours ago?"

The person spoke quickly so as to not invite the wrath of its torturer. "No, I didn't order it!" The pen fell to such a length the pool of ink nearly touched the edge of the man's iris, dying the brown into an even darker haze. "B-But! That was our boss, he told me about it so I hired a few grunts to go torch the place. No one was supposed to be insi-" The masked man gripped his hair tight enough that clumps of threads were ripped from the body's skull exposing bloody dots.

"Did your boss order anything else… Another hit?" Tears swelling up in the body's eye blocked its vision thus painting the whole room a blurry mess.

"Yes, but we were told not to go further with it after we got to the Evolved's room. We trashed it looking for him then we got a call saying plans had changed."

"What was the plan?"

"Me and a couple of the higher echelon guys were ready at the Evolved's room to drug him and bring him back with us. We were going to keep him locked up for a while then release him. But…"

"What?" His steely grip changed from the body's hair to the back of its throat clenching his fingers into its spine.

Cringing at the pain the recipient suffered to continue but did so anyway, "The boss told us that he made a deal with someone else. Our employer no longer mattered and this new one paid top dollar to take the Evolved themself. They gottem on the way to his apartment so we left." The pressure relinquished on the man as the masked individual took some steps backward, opting to analyze the body for a semblance of a lie in his speech.

Once more standing in front of the man did he move onward with the questioning. "I assume only your boss happens to know either of these employers, right?" The man nodded his head vigorously. A soft grunt produced itself from under the mask judging there to be only truth to the body.

"Where is the boss?" Now without the bearing presence of its torturer down its face, the man was able to identify more features to the person. His slim yet bulky appearance was unusual, judging from his voice he was undoubtedly young, possibly even his teens. Although the person wore a mask covering most of his face, the eyes could still be seen. A bright red, the color of innards and blood. A sight which would never leave the man's mind again. Slowly he pieced together a description in the corner of his mind for later purposes. All he had to do was escape with his life hopefully intact.

A smirk so instantaneously wiped away no one could have recognized, graced its expression. It was just another day at the office, little after giving this information to the man, he would be found dead then the flesh could continue his days without worry. The boss had set up this system himself to deal with any annoyances.

'Fucking Evolved.'