Je Ne Regrette Rien

AN: This one was..... interesting to write. Not too sure how I did on it though.... and by the way…… 50 reviews!!!!!!!! Omg, I’m so happy. I’m hoping that this will get as many reviews as WSF, I’d like for one of them to break 100 though….. maybe someday?

Suggested Listening:

Chapter 8: Frost

His eyes slid open slowly, blurrily, as his consciousness came back to the surface. Had he fallen asleep? His head hurt....

The last thing he remembered was eating something they had brought him... he'd been drugged.

Attempting to move his arms proved futile, his legs as well. Lifting his head he looked down, his eyes widening briefly.

He was strapped to a table. His arms were strapped, wrist up, out to the sides as were his legs; leaving him in a spread-eagle position.

His thoughts were still too muddled if he had taken so long to realize this. What had they given him? And more importantly... how long had he been out?

He closed his eyes tightly and willed his thoughts to run more smoothly. He was in a very bad situation, whatever they were planning, he needed to prepare himself... and yet... trying to string together more than one thought at a time was difficult.

He was in the same room, he knew that much. The walls and ceiling were the same, as was the door. And he doubted they would have moved him from his 'room'; usually they brought the torture to him.

The screeching of the door opening, after the metallic clang of the lock sliding away, had him turning his head to the side.

The woman, Eli, walked in followed by two men he'd never seen holding small coolers. Eli held a medium sized bag of something; there were no labels so he had no idea what, as well as a laptop. “Oh good, you're awake. This makes things easier, now I don't need the smelling salts.”

He hated this woman. She had never been his main torturer before, but she had been there, on the sidelines, many times before. “Place those over there.” she pointed to a small table that he'd neglected to notice before.

Once the coolers were set down the men took their leave, leaving him alone with her. The laptop was placed on the table and the webcam trained on his form, but not turned on until her hood was securely in place.

“Will you give me any information? Just one little thing about L? I might lessen your pain if you do, or kill you quickly if you spill it all.” he was used to hearing such things from them. Every time they asked him some variation of the same things; though they already knew his answer.

“Nothing to say? Pity.” her eyes appeared black in the dim lighting and her smile was deformed by shadows; she hadn’t placed on the mask this time. “I have such a treat for you today. Not so much sweet as it is salty.” the way she said 'salty' instantly had his mind on alert. But no matter how much he tried to force his thoughts he just couldn't come up with anything that could be done, that was torture.

Or at least torture by their standards.

“You're still a little drugged aren't you? I told them not to put so much in the food. Idiots.” the small woman shrugged a shoulder and opened the plain white bag and pulled what looked like a laundry detergent scoop out of her jacket pocket, and set it aside.

Walking around the length of the table she wheeled the smaller table closer to him, to sit just beyond the reach if his fingertips.

“Oh, I almost forgot to putt gloves on.” he could see a small trail of steam rising from inside the cooler and the moment she dipped her hand inside he closed his eyes. He doubted that seeing what was inside would make anything better in the long run.

He heard the scoop scraping at whatever was in the bag and felt a strange sensation as something, sand like, was drizzled across his forearm.

Her hand was digging around the cooler for a moment before she found what she was looking for. Something cold was pressed at his wrist, ice like and trailed quickly up his arm before being pressed down.

His eyes snapped open and his mouth opened in surprise. His arm burned! It was a slow sensation at first, a soft fizzling, the skin heating up just slightly. Then, only seconds later, it was like hot sandpaper across his skin, he was burning.

The wound feeling like acid was being pored over it.

He didn't cry out, not that it wasn't painful. But screams and yells only egged them on, made them hurt him worse. The pain was what he remembered.

He tried, desperately, to yank his arm away but the restraints made it impossible. Tears collected at the corners of his eyes; it felt like a hole was being burned through his arm.

When the ice was finally pulled away he was left gasping for air, trying to focus on something other than his injured appendage. “Oh, what a nice mark!” the curious tone of the woman’s voice made him sick with anger.

What he would do to her if he could escape....

He heard the scoop grinding against, what he now knew was salt, and braced himself for the inevitable. His teeth clenched as the salt was poured across his stomach and upwards in a line leading to his collarbone.

Was this meant to be misleading, so he couldn't tell what area would be next? or...?

He let out a small hiss as the ice traveled across his opposite shoulder and trailed across his chest to stop at his collar bone where it was lifted. He was not prepared when it was replaced on his stomach and held just above his navel.

His stomach area, being naturally more sensitive than his arm, was seized with pain. But it wasn't just one ice cube. She had placed a handful on and was holding them still despite his struggles.

His stomach muscles clenched in agony and no matter what he did he couldn't move away, she just kept readjusting her hold.

Thankfully, depending on ones perception, she quickly grew bored of this and knocked the cubes away. He was left to catch his breath as she leaned on the table next to him, tapping her chin in a thoughtful manor.

“Oh, I know what I can do!” she giggled as she spread salt across his right shoulder and grabbed a handful of ice cubes. He moved about as much as he could to hinder her but it proved futile.

He watched with morbid fascination as she arranged he cubes into an almost checkerboard like pattern. As his shoulder heated up he slammed his head on the table with a growl, trying to divert some of the pain.

She left those ones on longer than the others and the skin was, from what he could see, left raw and blistered. He could only imagine what it would be like later...

But despite what it might feel like later the knowledge that he would have scars from her sick amusement was almost worse. Always a reminder...

Assuming he lived long enough to see them scar.

He knew it wouldn't be pleasant when she dumped more salt onto his wounded arm, the previous wounds flaring up in agony as the grainy substance covered it. He watched through hooded eyes as she pulled out a larger block of ice, at least three times the size of a normal ice cube, though not large enough to be too heavy.

But heavy enough to keep its place when set down.

He bit his lip as she set the small block upon his already injured right arm. The pain the first time around was nothing compared to what was felt now. Salt entered the old wound, tearing open what had settled and layers of skin were eaten through.

Nausea was rising and he couldn't help the pained hiss that escaped his lips. He couldn't scream... wouldn't. They may have won with starving him, but not this....

Blood ran down his lip as he bit down and he felt slight amusement as Eli glared at him. “I w-wont scream for you.” he rasped. She pressed the ice to his arm harder but he didn't so much as flinch.

In reality that arm was loosing feeling, probably a bad sign, but at the moment he could care less.

“Have it your way.” she spoke in almost a whisper. She ripped the ice away; raw, burned skin sticking to it. She roughly wiped at the wound, clearing away what she could, before taking a full scoop of salt and dumping it across the wound.

His nerves weren't so far gone that he couldn't feel the salt sizzling away at his burned flesh. It felt as though he had been dumped into a bucket of freezing water, and he only had time to gasp before his senses were overloaded, sending him into darkness.

-End Frost-

AN: This shit really hurts from what I’ve heard (the ice cube part, though I’m sure salt hurts like a b**** on open wounds too). And I’ve seen the burn marks doing this can leave as one of my friends was stupid enough to try it. She had an ice cube shaped burn scar on her arm.

Almost funny in a way. I mean.... having a square burn on your arm... and KNOWING it’s from an ice cube...

ok well its not funny for him but whatever....

And my beta thinks he should have been screaming… but if he was like me (which im not say he is, but for the sake of argument) I don’t scream. Like ever. I growl, gasp, hiss. But rarely scream. Hell I stepped on a window hook (you know those ones with the rubber that stick to the window and hold stuff up, with those nice curved metal hooks?) and all I did was gasp, and it was embedded in my foot completely. So… I didn’t think he really react all that much until later… idk maybe it’s just me.

Tell me what you think, Review?