Forgetting the Past

Chapter Twenty-Four: No More Mercy

When Clary blinked her eyes open, she was in the same cramped room as before. But this time it was much different.
The small space was filled with florescent light, and the stone walls were visibly dirty and rough. Her hands were bound together over her head and the bulky, uncomfortable chain went straight up into the ceiling. She was in the center of the room, facing the doorway and forced to stand by the shortness of the chain.
Clary struggled against the bonds, but they wouldn't give. Instead, she ended up digging them deeper into the bones and flesh at her wrists. She felt forced to give up on the task.
Suddenly the door swung open, revealing Sebastian. Hatred and anger welled up in Clary. How could he have the nerve to do this to her? What was he going to do?
He closed the door behind him, a studying expression not leaving his face. She realized he was dressed in his red gear, and armed with daggers and other weapons. "What are you doing?" She hissed at him.
He shook his head. "I'm finished with playing your games, Clarissa. It's time for me to follow through with my promise of punishment."
"If you're going to kill me, just get it over with," she said without dropping her stare.
"Oh, I won't kill you. You're my prize, sister. But you are worth nothing if I cannot teach you to be obedient."
Clary boiled with rage, and spit at him. "I'm not yours, and I'm not a prize. I won't let you take control of me now or ever, you heartless bastard."
Fury flickered in his eyes like powerful flames. They wavered for a moment, then grew stronger. Clary realized with a jolt that Sebastian was not controlling his anger as he had before; he was not even going to try and restrain his demonic desires to inflict pain. She grit her teeth to keep from shuddering.
"You will not defy me," he growled. "And that is the reason I am doing this."
Without further preamble, he strode close to Clary until she could feel his cold breath on her face. "Where was it," he said seductively, bringing a hand to her waist. He found the bottom of her ribcage where he had previously broken her bones, and squeezed it roughly. Clary yelped as searing pain shot up her torso. "Ah, there," he said with a malicious smile. "Or was it..." he slid his hand higher up her torso. "There?" He tightened his grip, shattering ribs with little effort. Clary screamed as her chest felt enveloped in flames. She screamed at the pain and at Sebastian until she was panting. Then she glared at him viciously, daring him to continue.
"Believe me, I have a few more tricks up my sleeve," he said with a low laugh. "Us demons are artists in pain, and we ride on the high. By the time I'm done with you, you will be my masterpiece."
Clary did shudder this time, but that only provoked the searing pain in her chest cavity. Sebastian drew a demon-metal whip from his belt, the same kind he had disfigured her back with in Edom. Clary's eyes went wide.
Sebastian chuckled at her reaction. "Ah, the memories. you still think about our time together, don't you, Clarissa?"
"And I hated every moment of it," she spat. Sebastian seemed to ignore her comment.
"But we never did get the chance to be truly married, you being a backstabbing bitch and all. Don't worry; we will soon be joined in unholy matromony." He brought the whip out, uncurling it slowly. "I've been thinking about it. I think the garter will go right-" with a flick, he brought the whip to curl around her upper thigh, slicing through the material of her dress and the tender skin there. Clary yelled out in pain. "Right there," he finished with a satisfied tone.
"I will never marry you," she croaked.
He laughed dryly, slicing the whip deeper into her leg. "You have once before, and you will once again, Clarissa. I always get my way."
She bared her teeth at him, hatred burning as deeply within her as the pain. "I can't wait for the day you find out that's not how any of this is going to happen."
His black, bottomless eyes traveled down to her abdomen. Though Clary hadn't been talking about her and Jace's baby, she wished she could have taken the words back. A dark smirk formed on Sebastian's face.
"So you think I'll be upset about your little baby? No, no." He laughed, mocking her. "I can get rid of the thing as easily as I wish."
Terror gripped Clary. She couldn't imagine losing a second child to this, her demonic brother. "You wouldn't," she breathed almost inaudibly.
"When the time comes, I will do whatever I wish," he said. "But for now, I have other plans for you. Plans to make you hurt as much as my heart desires."
"You have no heart," she whispered.
"Perhaps you're right, sister," he said contemplatively as he drew a dagger from his belt. "But then, it is my soul that thirsts for you."
With a flash of metal, he made a quick slash. Clary flinched instinctively, but the blade had not touched her. Sebastian had sliced open his own wrist, which was now leaking a great amount of black demon ichor, and he seemed unfazed by it. "And now, for the main event. I have waited for this a long time."
Sebastian brought his bleeding wrist to Clary's shoulder, letting the acidic blood flow over her skin. She screamed and screamed, writhing in agony as it burned and blistered her skin. He moved his hand down, pressing the open wound to her collar bone and dragging it along her skin. Tears ran down Clary's face as it's burned away at her flesh, while Sebastian gave a wicked and gruesome smile. He brought his arm up suddenly, pressing the bloody gash to her neck. Clary's cries intensified, echoing in the small torture chamber. After what seemed like ages, he removed his hand to look at the demon blood that still sizzled her skin.
"I think that's enough for now," he said lightly, unclamping her chain and leaving abruptly. She barely heard the click of the lock over her own heavy breathing.
Clary collapsed to the ground immediately, panting and crying. Her wounds pulsed like one huge, dying heart; the skin of her torso and neck yelling out in agony as the poison seeped over her skin. Her leg burned furiously where the whip had sliced it open, and her entire torso was enveloped in agony from her shattered bones. Hands shaking violently, she attempted to stop the flow of the dark blood from reaching further down her body. It singed the material of her dress, which was now destroyed beyond repair. Her breath hitched when she brought her arms up, though, for her ribs screamed out in pain. Crying still, she fell back in the floor and let herself finally black out.