Kinzer’s tears kept flowing, his face a fit of spasms. As much as Kinzer wanted to pull free of Quintz’s grip, turn and hide, he knew it was in vain, so he just kept looking into his tormenter’s eyes before another fit of crying overtook him, along with the sensation that burned through his body, making him feel like his organs were melting within him.
When Quintz had begun the torture, Kinzer had felt the pain mainly in his back, but now it was hard to tell where the pain was originating and where it was flowing to. First it would feel as though the greatest pain was in his legs, then his chest, then his head.
Worse than the pain, though, was this feeling within him—this part of him that begged him to say something, utter one name that would make the pain go away, even if only for a moment.
Quintz must’ve caught on to this because he pressed, “A name, Kinzer?”
“Dedrus,” Kinzer forced out, smiling. “Good luck finding him.”
The pain within him mixed with a pleasing, empowering sensation that gave him the slightest relief. He knew it would be short-lived, but it was worth it.
“I’m aware that Dedrus is dead, Kinzer.”
“Sorry. I wasn’t trying to deceive you. Just trying to be a pain in your ass.”
Quintz released Kinzer’s face. “You think you’re real clever, but you must not realize how bad this can get, Kinzer, and how much we need this information. So let me show you how serious we are. Brock, do you mind retrieving my kit?”
Kinzer glanced over his shoulder as Brock left the room.
Quintz tilted his head and took a breath. He didn’t have that sadistic expression on his face—he appeared understanding, compassionate even. Like he was trying to reason with him.
Kinzer knew it was all an act, a ruse to collect intel. He had to remind himself of that.
“Hasn’t it been hard enough, Kinzer?” Quintz asked. “What are you to the Leader? Nothing…a pawn. I’m not different than you, just trying to survive. That’s all we can do in these wars. I can’t only make this pain go away, but I can give you a better life. I can give you back a life. You don’t have wings anymore. We could request the Almighty return those to you if you’ll align with us.”
“You’re going to kill me. I’m not an idiot,” Kinzer said, though it hurt to speak nearly as much as to move. “And even if you weren’t going to, I’m still not helping you on your fucked-up mission to annihilate an entire species.”
Kinzer heard something—a squeaking sound—before Brock rolled a wheeled cart beside him. A black box sat on top of the cart, surely his next challenge…
Quintz approached it. “I think this will help change your mind.” He unfastened a latch on the front of the box.
There was some sort of creature inside, a ball of what looked like flesh.
Quintz reached in and petted the ball. “There, there, baby boy. Do you know what that is, Kinzer? No, you don’t, because not many do. It’s a weapon that was never used during the War, but created by the Almighty. It’s a slykly. Do you want to know what it does?”
Kinzer didn’t respond. Quintz wasn’t looking for a response, not really. His monologue was for himself, not Kinzer.
“I attach this little fella to your crotch, and he slowly severs off everything that makes you male, and you become a eunuch. Now you think I’m going to kill you. I’m not going to kill you, Kinzer, because after I do this, it would be such a shame not to throw you back out into the world and make you live and suffer—an existence where you don’t even feel like a creature anymore.”
The slykly stirred, an appendage sticking out the side of the box as it began to make a hissing sound.
“Oh, baby is waking up. I have to affix it to something quickly. Otherwise it might run around the room, wreaking all sorts of havoc. It’s hungry, you see.”
“Fuck you,” Kinzer said.
“You won’t be fucking anything once this is done with you.”
Kinzer found some strength to tug at his cuffs, his body’s desperate attempt at resisting. But he knew how futile it was.
“Oh, I’m very excited about this,” Quintz continued. “You see, Kinzer, certainly I want this information from you, but I can’t convey to you how much pleasure it gives me watching you suffer right now, and how much more pleasurable it’s going to be when this thing is tearing your cock off, balls to shaft.”
Quintz reached into the box and moved his hands around the creature. “You have to be very careful with these things,” he whispered. “They’re testy. No pun intended.” He gripped on, and eight appendages thrashed about at its sides. As Quintz removed it from the box, Kinzer saw that it was almost spider-like in appearance. The biggest fucking spider he’d ever seen. Its flesh was like that of a mortal or immortal, tanned in appearance.
As Quintz stepped toward Kinzer, the slykly continued making its loud screeching sound.
“Mmmm, this is real good. We immortals are great healers normally, aren’t we, Kinzer? But this would be a bit of a miracle, wouldn’t it? Like growing back wings.”
Brock turned Kinzer around so that he faced the door again. He wore a smile on his face, like he was so fucking happy to get to witness Kinzer’s castration. He knelt down, snatched Kinzer’s ankles and lifted him into the air, stretching his body flat. Kinzer couldn’t do more than wiggle in his grip. By that point, his wrists and hands had gone totally numb. He wished the rest of his body could have been as numb.
