Ben 2.0

Gruesome Schemes

A few guards came over and injected him with the morphine so the meter wouldn't budge as they un-drilled the chains. One by one, the guards used their electric drills and slowly un-screwed the screws from the bone chains. They carried Ben over to the room which he had seen the guard walk through earlier. He was thrown in a chair and immediately restrained. The guards debated putting him in a straitjacket, but it would have taken too much out of the guard's time to put it on Ben. Ben was in a room, never to see the other participants again. He woke up, and became very annoying once more again. The guards voted on whether or not they wanted to torture him sooner, but feared the repercussions from Kim, the lord, savior, and supreme leader of North Korea.

"I bet none of you silly Americans have ever tried what I am about to give you," Kim laughed. "The government there is so stupid, they are so dumb, they limited the amount of torture techniques the CIA could use on spies!!!! What a quote-on-quote "Bruh.".

He came up behind Ben and blind folded him. Not long after that, he heard another set of footsteps beside him, then a soft clank as metal met metal. The room was pervaded by a foul odor.

"Here, take this fork," Kim ordered Ben. "It will be very important for this challenges, and maybe other challenges ahead of you. Maybe you won't be so annoying, and not forget your fork so you won't be at a disadvantage."

"Now eat this," Kim said gleefully, guiding Ben's hand to a plate. His eyes followed his hands, and gazed up on a foreign material or texture.

Kim forced the fork into a meat with an odd, purple, and pulpy texture. Ben thought of all the possibilities, but none of them matched up to what was really on that plate in front of him. As he lifted the fork to his mouth, the pungent smell invaded his nostrils, causing him to gag.

"Go ahead and fucking eat it, you motherfucking coward," a guard snapped. "I bet you never heard of what kind of food you are arbout to eat."

Ben chewed nervously as a sickeningly sweet yet metallic taste swam down his throat.

"You know what that his buddy," Kim asked patronizingly.

"It's what you grated off yourself earlier,"

"You're fucked up on another level," Ben shouted.

The guards broke out into a storm of laughter at Ben's pain. Kim ripped the blindfold off.

"You're probably hungry by now. Finish the plate. You don't want to wait too long because every five minutes one of my guards will cut off one of your fingers. I suggest you dig in now, while you can," Kim told him flipping over an hourglass on the table. Kim observed the scene, sadistically enjoying every second of it. Ben did the best he could to keep himself from becoming sick all over his 'food'. He painstakingly shoved his own flesh into his mouth. Five minutes later, he was almost done.

"Ahhh, what the fuck dude," Ben yelped out at the searing pain in his hand. "This is kinda of beyond cruel at this point. You are so stupid Kim."

"I told you what was going to happen," guffawed Kim.

Ben was now missing yet another part of himself, one of his index fingers.

After another brutal few minutes, Ben had finally finished. He screwed his eyes shut. He felt utterly defeated, drained of any power or will to fight.

"Now my dear Ben," Kim started.

A spark of rage seized Ben as he screamed, "Don't fucking call me that you pervert."

Kim just laughed and continued, "Anyway, this is only the beginning of my brilliant plans."

"The--BEGINNING??" said Ben.

A few minutes later Ben was back at the meter. For once, he had an idea. He reached for the syringe of morphine he noticed earlier. Ben regretted the decision the moment he injected it into his arm. It felt as if there was lava pulsing through his veins. That regret instantly vanished when he looked up at the meter. The meter read 76.9%.

Ben was so happy, that he didn't care that he had to injure himself again to fill the rest of the meter up. He hastily took the power drill and some screws from the box. He positioned a screw right in the middle of his forearm. He let the drill drive it into, and through the bone, smiling the whole time. One of the guards saw this and was very confused. The meter moved up a few percentages. Ben added the rest of the screws to the same arm. The meter didn't budge much at all this time. Ben proceeded to yank all of the screws out of his arm. He looked on with joy as blood gushed out of the holes. The meter this time read 89.3%. Ben watched some of the other kids, trying to get some new ideas from them. He really liked seeing the other kids in pain and he could see why Kim wanted to have this competition.

"Get back to work, loser,"

"Bruh."

As he peered back into the box, he saw there weren't many tools left, save a few of the dull knives. They all looked particularly gross, with old bloodstains and rust decorating the metal. Ben grasped the handle of one of the knives and braced himself for what was about to happen. He plunged the knife deep into his stomach, allowing the blade to dive in and out. He watched the meter inch up ever so slow as he kept repeating this. Soon it hit 97.6%. He could almost see his own intestines at this point. The action to get the meter to the end would have to be the most painful thing to happen to him yet. Ben found the bleach from before, poured it into the new wounds, only to see the meter move up to 97.9%. He crawled across the absolutely ruined concrete, blood trailing after him. He held a serrated blade up to his ear. The teeth of the blade dug in, causing Ben to drop the blade.

"Hah, are you too weak to continue," taunted a guard.

Ben gritted his teeth as he raised the blade back to the same spot. He screamed bloody murder as he sawed again. The height of the pain Ben felt in that moment was unimaginable. The meter showed no mercy as it moved only to 98.4%. Ben had had enough as he launched the blade at the meter, only to have it come flying back at him, stabbing him in the neck. Ben cautiously tor away the knife from his neck as he gasped for air. Blood sputtered out of his mouth, landing on Kim's shoes. Ben looked up to see Kim right in front of him.

"You're really fucking stupid, aren't you? Did you think for one second that the meter would be breakable? God, Americans and their idiotic thoughts."

Ben attempted to shout out a clever comeback, but he found that he couldn't speak due to the damage the blade had inflicted on his neck.

"Still not there yet I see, 99.1%."

Kim dug something out of his pocket, placing it in the box. He kicked the box over to Ben. There was a pair of pliers. Just the sight of them made Ben wince. He wished he could just run out of this cursed building. Sadly, that wasn't an option and it wouldn't ever be. Ben ran his tongue over his slimy, blood covered teeth and he knew what he had to do. Reluctantly, he wrapped the pliers around a tooth, waited a second, then pulled with all the strength left in him. The impact of the tooth hitting the ground couldn't be heard of the anguished yelps of the competitors. Ben's heart pounded as blood relentlessly poured down from the empty spot in his top row of teeth. Kim smiled, no gaps to be seen, bragging that he still had all his teeth intact. Ben couldn't stand losing any more teeth. Looking at the spot where he had amputated his foot, an idea came to him. He gripped some of the rotting tissue in between the levers of the pliers and tore some of it off.

Ben could've jumped for joy when he heard his meter ring out, reading now 100%. And then everything just... Blacked out.