Caged Phoenix

“What is it, Zane? Are you going to cut some meat?” Aster was still trying to inject humor in such a dire situation.
His captor was not amused. “You say that,” he replied nastily. Zane’s eyes bore the same infernal gleam that the lethal instrument held. Evidentially, Zane’s manner had not changed in the few hours he had gone away.
“Feast your eyes on this, you proud bastard.”
Aster couldn’t break eye contact. He couldn’t give his torturer that minute satisfaction. Seemingly reaching into the shadows themselves, Zane produced…a lemon. The pale yellow fruit was the brightest spot of color in the dim holding chamber.
Zane; just as much as a sadist as before; grinned broadly. His teeth gleamed for the briefest instant. “Watch.”
Zane positioned the lemon on a convenient table, and in one smooth movement, his tormentor split the lemon in two. The knife clunked against the table with a deafening thud.
“Lemons and oranges have long since been revered on ships. In less recent times, sailors sucked the acidic juice for precious vitamins. Do you know what I’m going to do with this particular lemon?”
“Make lemonade?” Aster suggested gamely.
Zane’s lips curled in disgust. “Wrong answer.”
The knife was scraping along Aster’s flesh before he could even complete his next breath. The surge of agony that ensued was sharp and total. And, the lemon juice that coated the knife didn’t help matters.
“Zane, please stop,” Aster gasped. “This will only make it harder on--”
Suddenly, Zane’s hand reached out and caught Aster by the chin. He involuntarily flinched when his gaze met Zane’s own. The eyes of his tormentor were cold. Lifeless.
“Aster,” he whispered.
“Yes, Zane?” He couldn’t prevent his voice from quaking.
“Say the word ‘please’ again.”
Aster was entirely taken aback. The former student was completely devoid of compassion.
“No, I won’t say it again.”
“You will,” Zane promised. “You will.” Another thread of scarlet appeared when he drew the knife across Aster’s abdomen.
In his chains, he grimaced at the intrusion.
How long? How long will he do this?
Aster had barely recovered from the second gash when yet another was carved into his chest. Horrified beyond belief, Aster looked to Zane one last time for some sort of conflicting emotion, but sadly, there was nothing but delight—sheer delight from making him suffer. Zane’s eyes were indistinguishable from the knife slashes themselves so great was his concentration.
“Shallow cuts are best,” he uttered whilst still moving the knife. “They cause little scarring and are nonfatal. As an added bonus, they’re the best for what I have in mind next.”
Aster was getting tired—mentally and physically. He thought of making another joke, but couldn’t find the strength for it. His energy was draining fast. Worse, Zane could sense it.
“You can’t win, Phoenix. Not here. When you’re nothing but a broken little shell, and I tire of your screams, I will quite mercifully erase your existence from this earth. I hope an ocean burial is acceptable.”
I won’t…no…I can’t break.
As it turned out, Aster’s promise to himself would be hard to keep.
Aster groaned, sighed, and bit his own lip until it bled to keep from crying out. Zane grunted in approval.
“I’m impressed, Aster, but you have to scream sometime.”
Zane’s words proved true when one of the lemon halves was squeezed over his wounds. It was as if the afflicted flesh itself had just been set ablaze. His scream of pain that ensued was sure to have had reached the boat deck—and beyond.
“Yes,” Zane breathed. “That’s what I’ve been dying to hear.”
Whimpering, Aster twisted futilely against his restraints.
“You should thank me, Phoenix. I sterilized your wounds, didn’t I?”
Aster refused to answer him. It wasn’t a real question anyway.
“Not speaking, Phoenix? Are you so overcome by gratitude?”
Aster still refused to answer him.
Zane was starting to get annoyed. “Hmph.”
Aster bowed his head. He didn’t want to see his tormentor. Indeed, he wished he could just effortlessly drift away from the entire scene. However, Zane Truesdale was going to make sure Aster didn’t snag one moment of peace.
“Don’t get too comfortable—I think I missed a spot.”
Another hoarse cry surged through his lungs when Zane emptied the other lemon half on his irritated cuts.
“Yes, that’s it,” Zane jeered. “Express your defeat. If only your fans could see you now.”
It was as if his insides had been stoked into an inferno—an inferno stirred by rage.
I’m not giving in.
It happened all so fast. One moment, Aster was about to burst into agonized tears, and the next, he was spitting into Zane’s face. Only when the deed was done did he realize the consequences of his actions. The gob of saliva was now making a daring escape down the former student’s cheek.
“You…”
Zane didn’t even bother finishing the sentence. Backhanding Aster across the face seemed to be of utmost importance. Aster’s head met the wall with ease from the sheer power of the blow.
“You had to do it, didn’t you, Phoenix? You had to make me angry.”
In a flash, he had redirected his smarting head to meet the murky poisonous pools that were his captor’s eyes. Reptilian, they were. Rather haughtily, Aster glared at the man who thought he controlled his destiny. However, at the moment, Zane was not incorrect.
Zane glared back. Then, without a word, he got up, turned on his heel, and disappeared into the teeming darkness.
Suffering from utter exhaustion as well as intense physical punishment, Aster slumped back against the wall. He had scared off his torturer—for now. But, he would be back.