Unending Pain

Kerava stalked over to where Corvus sat, towering over him, and roughly yanked him to his feet by his hair, tearing his shirt from his back and discarding it before switching to her preferred grip by grasping the back of his neck, she pushed and pulled Corvus' resisting form over to the wall and slammed him against it, winding him.

More threads of wisp-like magic swarmed over Corvus holding him still, allowing Kerava to release her grip on the youngsters neck to secure his limbs. She secured his arms above his head, fastening each wrist into a steel cuff that was bolted deep into the wall, next, he kicked Corvus's legs apart violently causing his body to sink lower and the wrist restraints to dig into his skin. Kerava secured his ankles with the same heavy steel shackles.

Corvus was now facing the wall. Unable to move very far, but still able to speak. Kerava withdrew his threads and scrutinized his struggling form; he saw a trickle of blood winding its way down Corvus’ right forearm from the steel cutting into his wrist. Kerava spoke in a low tone, “Now, let’s see… What makes you tick…”

“I’d prefer you not…” Corvus spoke, straining to turn his head far enough around to see the target of his verbal abuse.

Kerava’ eyes narrowed, “I can call you whatever I feel like calling you. Or have you forgotten already? I own you! You upset Zied and caused a major setback to his plan... So he handed you over to me as a punishment, and you've still not earned your release from my grasp, and you never will, boy!” Kerava rumbled in her distinctive gritty voice.

Taking a blade from the folds of her robe, and standing directly behind him with the point of the blade pressing lightly into his lower back, “You're mine” She hissed, tracing the point along his spine sending an involuntary shudder through Corvus’ body from the cold steel scratching at his flesh, Kerava grabbed at Corvus’ head and wrenched it backwards roughly, holding the blade to his throat tightly enough for a trickle of blood to seep from the razors edge.

Corvus grumbled at the stinging sensation, looking upside down from his head being yanked backwards into Kerava’s emotionless face. “You may be somewhat immortal, but you can still feel pain.” Kerava whispered, making Corvus cringe again, as she lightly traced the blade away from his throat and around his neck before freeing his grip on his head. She continued to scratch the blade across his shoulders, back and forth tracing the muscles, leaving red scratches in his wake, and without warning plunged it deeply into Corvus's right shoulder blade. Corvus jerked his head forwards in pain, banging his head hard against the wall as he did so with a sickening crack. A thick ooze of blood pulsed from the wound, seeping out of his flesh around the steel instrument that had pierced it, slowly creeping its way down his back. Corvus cursed mentally, ‘Damn’.

“I'm sure even you have a limit...” Kerava replied dryly, squeezing the flesh surrounding the cold instrument and forcing more blood to spill from the wound, “...shall we find out?” Corvus gave no response, Kerava gripped the handle of the blade that was still sticking out of his shoulder and twisted, digging the blade deeper into the muscle. Corvus moaned in agony as the flesh was torn some more and fresh blood poured from the wound, his body tensed against his restraints, his breathing becoming deep and deliberate, “I asked you a question.” Kerava growled. Giving up, at least for the slightest moment, Corvus answered with a “Yes.”

“Good.” Kerava said in a clipped tone, and landed a heavy, open-handed smack on Corvus’ left side at the same instant before she quietly moved away.

Corvus rested his forehead against the wall; it felt greasy, almost slick. It was damp, like everything else down here in this dingy room. He started to feel the familiar prickly sensation warm his skin from the somewhat playful slap Kerava had just given him. Corvus knew it was far from over though, if the blade that was lodged in his shoulder was anything to go by anyway. The pain had turned into a dull ache, but he knew that the real pain hadn't even started yet.

Kerava stared down at the implements in front of her, they each had their merits she thought, but where would she begin... She picked up another small blade, much like a scalpel and ran her fingers over the cold steel carefully examining and scrutinizing every millimeter of it.

She was lost in his own thoughts, deep in the recesses of his imagination, visualizing what she would eventually inflict upon Corvus. She placed down the small blade with a metallic clink onto the table, instead, picking up a roll of leather, tugging at the catch and unfurling it to reveal a carefully wrapped set of needles. Deciding she would start there, ‘a slow and painful way to begin’ She mused. She stilled herself, closing her eyes and listening intently to the sounds within the room; she could hear Corvus breathing – she could hear the faint dripping of water from somewhere, the air was still and hung heavily around her.

She was ready… To begin.

She opened her eyes, sucking a breath of the acrid air deep into her lungs, and moved closer to Corvus. She stood observing Corvus, his head was hung forwards, beyond just resting his forehead against the wall, and he had the crown of his head resting against it. Kerava smirked beneath his mask, wondering if this was a play to get him to go easy on him by appearing submissive or weakened? Or perhaps he was preparing himself for what was coming next. ‘Either way.’ Kerava thought and slipped a needle from its leather sheath, she held it like a dart, between the edge of her fore-finger and thumb. Her eyes flicked back and forth across the bare flesh of Corvus’ back, searching for his first target. Corvus shifted slightly, almost in anticipation of Kerava's next move, the chains emitted a dull clatter, they were old and speckled with pock marks of rust. They could really do with replacing, but that would cost money. Besides, Kerava couldn't remember the last time anybody except Corvus had been brought down here, that managed to stay alive long enough to necessitate the chains anyway. She decided on his first target – Corvus’ neck, ‘That ought to make him straighten up and pay attention.’ Kerava mused. She moved closer, silently raising the needle to match the height of Corvus’ neck.

She had it pinched between her thumb and fore-finger, and jabbed it home, deep into the muscle that ran the length of Corvus’ neck, sending shooting pain right up into his head.

True to Kerava's prediction, Corvus raised his head, but remained silent, save for a sharp intake of breath through gritted teeth. Kerava drew another needle from the sheath, deciding that a more painful insertion would be necessary to drag a pained cry from Corvus.

She tossed the needle into the air, catching it deftly between her thumb and forefinger again, she allowed her left hand to rest on Corvus’ shoulder, bringing her right hand closer until the needle made contact with the skin at the top of the spine; a little to the right, hovering above the bundle of nerves that Kerava knew lay buried about an inch below the surface, she pressed it in slowly this time, feeling it snag on the sinewy muscle as it pierced the flesh.

She pierced through the sensitive bundle of nerves, sending waves of pain through Corvus like lightning. “Agh!” rasped Corvus, sucking in breath to help ease the pain into his system.

Kerava smiled, she liked that response, and drew another needle. She pressed it into Corvus's lower back, near his left kidney, which also granted her a pleasing response, even though she sensed that Corvus was trying his best to hold back and not give Kerava the satisfaction.

“17 left...” Kerava spoke up, breaking the strained atmosphere in the room. Corvus rumbled a growl.