|Nicholas Rowland (amending) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2016-04-26 02:16:00
WHO: Nicholas, Antichrist
WHAT: Oh just a little bit of torment
WHEN: Beginning on Friday the 22nd up until Monday the 25th
WHERE: Joshua's evil basement of evil and torture
WARNINGS: Starvation, language
Nicholas hadn't even gotten out of the city.
He had planned out his trip to New Orleans in minute detail, and everything was set up to be perfect. On the morning of his flight, however, Patroclus had called to say that one of the taps at the club was blocked and instead of calling someone else in to fix it, Nicholas had left early enough to stop by before continuing on to the airport.
At least, he thought ruefully, the Antichrist had been kind enough to grab him after he had fixed the damn beer tap. At least he wouldn't be losing the revenue while he was being ruthlessly tortured by some wannabe demon. Not that it would matter all that much if the torture culminated in his death.
Nicholas hadn't even felt the drugs enter his system before hitting the pavement out behind his beloved club, but when he came to in the dark room, his head swimming and his entire body aching, it didn't take too long to realise what had happened. He had taken his time to stand, not wanting to cause himself more injury by falling over. Once upright, he made his way to the door, which was locked tight. The room was small, he could tell that much even in the dark, by walking around the edges and counting steps. Twelve steps by thirteen, with a tiny bed in the middle and a bucket in the corner, he had knocked over when exploring.
He had called out at first, screaming for someone to help, or at least give him some information, until his throat was raw and aching. The darkness didn't give any clues as to time passing, but it had been nearly a day by the time anyone showed up at all. By that time Nicholas was beside himself with fear.
Joshua flicking the light on and introducing himself as the Antichrist certainly didn't help matters.
The being had tossed him a bottle of water, informed Nicholas that he was now Joshua's property, and flicked the light off again, bathing the room in darkness.
But at least there had been water.
That became the pattern then. Joshua showing up, tossing him water, then disappearing before Nicholas could attack him and try to escape. There was nothing else. No distractions, no food, no conversation, but at least that meant no torture either. As Nicholas lay there, three days in, he couldn't honestly decide if he would rather Joshua just come in here and get to sticking him with hot pokers. The nothingness and the starvation just might have been worse. But the grass was always greener, wasn't that what people said?
The door creaked open and the sudden light blinded Nicholas for a moment. He groaned as he heard Joshua enter the room again.
"Stand up," Joshua commanded him.
"Fuck off," Nicholas replied, wishing his voice sounded stronger. He turned to his side and curled up into a ball around his aching belly. He honestly thought he would eat rotten eggs right now, if that was what was offered to him. He didn't have the energy to try to run any more.
Joshua chuckled and tossed another bottle of water on the bed. "What, no desperate attempt to make it to the door before I can close it?" he asked jovially.
Nicholas gritted his teeth together, but said nothing. He didn't understand what the fuck he was even doing here, let alone what the Antichrist wanted of him. Was it that Joshua knew he was a follower of Mary? Or was Joshua just messing with whomever he got ahold of?
"A little disappointing. I expected more fight from you."
Again, Nicholas said nothing. He had tried to pray to Michael and Mary, to tell them where he was, unaware that Joshua had his father block any and all prayers from getting out of his house years ago. No one had come to save him. Nicholas felt abandoned and terrified and tormented all at once.
God, what if Lust had put Joshua up to this?
"I wonder if you would fight if I brought that little raven-hair pregnant girl down here, hmm? I bet you'd fight then."
In an instant, Nicholas was on his feet. Head swimming, he dove for Joshua's throat, only to suddenly be restrained by Joshua's shadowy minions who materalised out of nowhere. What the fuck even was Hell?! "Don't you fucking touch her!" Nicholas bellowed at Joshua, struggling against the shadowy grip of the minions.
"Ah, there's your fight," Joshua smiled. "Even starving, you'll fight to protect them. But not yourself. Interesting."
Nicholas continued to fight with the minions until, exhausted, he slumped in their arms. He felt like he might be sick, but there was nothing in his stomach to vomit. "Please," he breathed, weakly. "Don't hurt her-"
"Don't make me hurt her," Joshua shrugged. "Be more interesting." With that, he clicked his fingers and the minions let him go. Joshua left then, the light flickering out and the door closing with a thud. Nicholas' head was pounding and he was too tired to even crawl back to the bed. With a small moan, he curled up there on the floor, his knees to his chin.
What the hell was the going to do? How was he going to get out of this? He was going to be a father and he couldn't miss that! Couldn't miss marrying his loves. Nicholas didn't usually cry, but there, on the floor of his cell, he sobbed until he lost consciousness.