David Ryan ☤ Dean Winchester (lovesomepie) wrote in thereincarnates, @ 2018-05-20 14:58:00 |
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Entry tags: | anthony carpenter, cadence moreno, david ryan, finley melville, joan ritter, natalia barone |
Who: Tony, Finley, David, Joan, Cadence & Tali (tentative posting order?)
What: David gets rescued from Tony's house of pain
Where: The basement of Tony's mortuary, after hours (San Francisco, CA)
When: Sunday, late afternoon/early evening, May 20th 2018
Warnings: Mentions of torture, actual torture, violence, language probably
David was having trouble staying conscious. He didn't know how long he'd been here, or how much time had even passed since he'd last seen Tony's smug face hovering over his in the dank, dimly lit basement. He was in a basement, that much he knew, though he had no idea what the rest of the place looked like and he still had no idea where they even were. He'd lost track of everything as soon as Tony had teleported them both from that alley in Los Angeles, when he'd first woken up on the table he'd only had the bump on his head to tell him that Tony had at some point knocked him out cold in transit, so he didn't even remember getting here. Wherever 'here' was. They could be anywhere, it was possible they weren't even in California anymore, but David didn't have too much time to dwell on his disorientation before it all started.
When he'd first come to on the table, the first thing he felt was cold. Craning his neck to get a better look at himself, he realized that while he was still technically wearing clothes, his shirt was cut open to bare all of the skin that it hid, and his pants were pulled down off his hips. For a brief moment, David experienced an out of place feeling of humility and felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment, making a move to pull his pants back up. That's when he realized that he couldn't, because he couldn't move his arms. They were strapped down on the table with heavy restraints, both arms pinned at his sides. His legs were strapped down too, which he found out when he tried to kick out uselessly with one of them.
There was also a thick strap that ran along him mid-waist, and once he realized just how well and truly screwed he was, only then did it start to sink in why he was strapped down to a table like this, the tatters of his shirt riding up just enough on either side of him that he could feel the cool, unforgiving steel of it against his bare skin. He shouted a few times for help, but no one seemed to hear him. All he heard back was the echo of his own voice, bouncing off the walls as David strained and struggled against his bonds, panic and fear finally rising swiftly in his chest.
He didn't know how much time passed between when he woke up and when Tony finally appeared, and when Tony first started cutting into him, David lost all sense of time completely. Seconds stretched to minutes, minutes stretched to hours, and all that time was spent experiencing the worst kind of pain he'd ever endured. At first he'd tried to count the minutes, just to distract himself from the blinding pain of every kiss from Tony's knives, but he quickly lost track. For all he knew, he'd been down here for days, or at least that's what it started to feel like. Just hours and hours of nothing but a knife cutting into him, each new angle a completely different kind of excruciating, and Tony taunting him in his ear the entire time.
Still, as bad as it got, David did his best to hang on. Whenever he was able to, he thought of his sister. Bren, Joan, all of the people closest to him. Even Cadence, despite the fact that they weren't all that close, she was still Cas, and in the moment that was a source of comfort to both him and Dean. As much as he didn't want to be thinking of Finley right then, he thought of him too. He didn't know how much blood he'd lost, but David was determined to stay alive, telling himself that there was still a chance that his people would find him, even though they probably had no more idea where he was than he did. He just had to hang on until they got here. Each new cut was a challenge for him to stay alive, though Tony had made it clear that he was trying to draw out David's suffering as long as possible, so he wasn't going to let David die easy.
David didn't know if he should actually find that comforting or not, but it wasn't until Tony announced that soon he'd start on his bottom half that David felt himself finally starting to break. All of that pain had only been centered on one half of his body, there was a whole other half to go and Tony seemed to have big plans for it. David didn't know how much more he could take, but he was starting to become increasingly aware of the fact that he was covered in his own blood. The corners of his vision were growing fuzzy, he could only just make out the familiar black chord on the floor that used to hang around his neck, recalling when Tony had ripped it off him earlier to taunt him with it. Now Tony was hovering over him again, waving a new knife over his face.
"You know, this isn't just my own personal torture chamber. During the day, this is a fully functioning mortuary. I suppose it would only be polite to prepare your body for burial before I send you back to your family in a box." David was too far gone for any witty retorts, and he thought he was finally at the point of delirious that he was hallucinating when he thought he heard the sound of a door bursting open somewhere.