𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖-𝕞𝕖-𝕟𝕠𝕥-✞☹༄

It- hurts...

★~★~ ★~★~

Jacobs returned behind him. Pouring alcohol down his back.

He let out a horrific scream. His voice hurt. His lungs ached.

He was gasping for air.
Choking out pleads and apologizes.

Oh he was *sorry* now.

He regretted befriending the enemy.

He regretted it all- all of the affections. The conversations. The games- they'd play.

Sages eyes were wide in agony.

" let's continue this." Jacobs grinned.

Sage frantically shook his head. Tugging on the never easing chains holding him up.

He heard the whip whirl threw the air. As the lashes started again.

Jacob counted again.

Sage was nearly passed out, the pure *agony* was worse then being ripped open- surely.

One of the men slid a mat with nails sticking out of it under his feet.

The little needles sliced his calloused foot.

He cried out,

30. Jacobs was at 30.

Sage shakily twisted. Trying to avoid each harsh lash.

Full force lashes- some how way more painful. Maybe that was the alcohol bathed wounds covering his back.

Definitely the alcohol-

Blood dribbled down his spine. A few ribs felt broken, probably from sheer impact.

" filthy-little-liar-!" Jacobs lash's paused for only an instance,

so he could build up enough strength, to slam that whip against bruised skin, and cause sage to scream again.

40.

Sage knew he'd survive if he just held on a bit longer.

His lungs desperately craved air. The wind was knocked out of him.

Those lashes didn't ease.
Jacobs counting was helpful- for he couldn't even utter a word at this point.
Let alone count.

His throat to sore to scream.

He screwed his eyes shut-

50.

He sagged against the ropes. Gasping and wheezing for breathe.

His back was slick with sweat and blood.

★~★~ ★~★~