Every time he'd started to go under, the man with the knife would stop and let him heal up a little bit, pour water on him, laugh a bit with whoever else was there. The mere fact he was healing gave him away as a ghoul, or at the very least, someone with vampire blood in their system, but he didn't say anything. He'd long since stopped trying to convince them to just let him go and playing dumb. It hadn't worked and it wasn't going to. Instead of mouthing off, he focused on just keeping it together, praying his runes had done exactly what they were supposed to.
Hours had gone by, but it felt like days. Little cuts, big ones, slaps, punches. When the smaller cuts hadn't worked, they had tied his wrists up, making him stand so that someone with knuckles could punch him in the sides and back. His shirt had long since been cut off of him, leaving him in ruined jeans and a multitude of different colored bruises all over his body. They had broken ribs, one of his legs and his nose besides everything else and still they asked, over and over, for information even though they knew he wouldn't say a word. They had to have. Had to be getting bored with him.
During another break where they splashed him in the face with yet another bucket of water, there was a commotion somewhere outside the room, leaving only the man with the knife for a few moments. James closed his eyes, only for a second, he thought, but when they opened again, that man was gone and he was alone in the room. It was quieter than before... could he hear voices? He wasn't sure. Staying awake wasn't working all too well for him.