An Unfortunate Mix-Up ✔️

Chapter 19: "May I have a drink?"

It didn't seem like it'd end anytime soon. It didn't seem like there was any mercy to be had with what they had planned for him. It seemed like he'd been hanging there for half a day, but it was probably shorter than that. How were you supposed to count hours, minutes when you were focused on where the next bit of pain would cut through the core of your body?

He felt the baseball bat crashing into his ribs, losing count in the amount of times it had. Rather than just bruised or cracked, they had to be broken by now - or a miracle if they weren't. He swore he felt them cracking at the end of the one swing, his body trying to twist at the motion.

He felt the electrocution coursing through his skin, beginning with the spot of contact on his stomach or back, and up through his body, hitting every single nerve and muscle on the way. The baseball bat did not make him twist, but there was no stopping the motions at the result of that. The pain was searing through every single core of his being. He could feel the flesh of his skin ripping open, knowing there'd be a series of cuts - not even wanting to glance down his own body to take a look. At least he hadn't seen a puddle begin to form below him so it couldn't be too terrible. But the motions, that was a whole other story as he couldn't believe the way his body could twist at times.

There was also the addition of a belt, whipped across his ankles. It was probably the least painful of the list in its own right, not even bringing a scream to his lips unlike the aforementioned. It was sent in a motion to the right, followed by a motion to left, seemingly repeated every 20 minutes. He knew the reason for it - not to inflict pain, but cause other motions. Even though not as painful as everything else, your body still reacted to it, wanting to be away from the source of the pain in hopes of not repeating. That meant his feet would come off the ground and swing, not allowing him to keep the same standing on the ground with balance. No contact on the ground, all pressure transferred to his wrists that were tied above his head. Each swing felt like the rope was threatening to cut through his flesh, snap his wrist in the process. The human anatomy told him that wouldn't be a way to freedom, but yet every strong feeling felt as though that would be repeated.

Taking a deep breath, he had gotten used to the process. It was a repetitive system, sometimes done by Derek, sometimes by one of his man. At the end of a series, they would demand to get answers to their questions - to which Jay kept his lips sealed, not giving them an ounce of what they wanted. Would you help someone who was making your life a living hell?

"May I have a drink?" He croaked out after a while, dryness beginning to take over his throat, causing the screams to be more raspier, air to seemingly go slower through his lungs. Dehydration was probably the biggest threat to his being moving forward. "May I have some water?"

"You think I'd have sympathy to do that for you?" Derek questions as he circles around Jay, belt held firmly in his hand, ready to be swung at a moment's notice. 

"If you want to hear screams after each of your actions for your satisfaction - since you probably get off from that, I'd recommend it." Playing into the psychology of the situation was normally the game, no matter who it was or what was going on. It was the simplest card in the books, but yet he was going to try it - anything to get what he wanted, right? That was one of the main objectives in ensuring your survival.

"Are you going to offer me information for my co-operation?" It seemed like a fair trade - Derek does something for him, he offers the return of something Derek wants. His lips almost slipped, giving him the address and cell phone number of Hank Voight, hoping he'd approach him, and get his ass rightfully kicked. Everybody knew that Voight didn't deal with people like this lightly - one bullet to kill, excuse delivered accordingly to superiors to make it look as though it wasn't his direct intention. However, he couldn't bring himself to say the words that sat at the tip of his tongue. It went against everything he knew, as you were never supposed to offer up any information. The slightest thing could cause a snowball, resulting in more headaches for not only yourself but others. He couldn't do that to himself. There was no way his conscience would be able to stand a slip up of information being the reason something happened to Hank.

"Fuck...." He almost wanted to say fuck you in return, but couldn't bring himself to fully say it, almost looking for a drop of a sympathy or no reason to increase what was happening. There was no way this could get worse.....

"So you want water? I can arrange that....."

He feels the ties above his head holding his wrists bound to the ceiling being undone, as men surrounded him at every single pass. Despite how much they had tortured him, they still didn't trust that he wouldn't try something. He had pride in that, knowing the strength he shown was being recognized.

The last knot undone sees his arms drop immediately, welcoming the relaxation of not being completely stretched to stop a choking hazard from happening. There was a burning sensation to be felt through - he knew he wouldn't need arm day at the gym in the next couple weeks as that had done the equivalent of a workout in a matter of time.

Arms wrap around his body, to which he couldn't fight against with the weakness that threatened to take him over. Frankly, he probably wouldn't fight against it no matter what in knowing if they got bored with him what they may have in store for Alex.

..... Alex, he wondered just how he was doing. Hopefully he hadn't gone insane or anything happen with the time spent by himself.

It wasn't long before he felt himself against a wooden board, almost the material against his back feeling like that of a stretcher. Was this his rescue? Was he finally able to escape the hell he was in? Was he seeing men that could help him, and make the pain subside? Even the straps wrapped around his waist band, followed by chest gave him the same sensation.

Snap back to reality, and he knew he wasn't just quite home free yet. Instead, there was probably a lot more to come from the same hell for him before then. The tight ropes tied around each ankle, followed by each wrist, legs stretched as far as they could be, arms stretched as far as they could be, forcing him to have no movement at all were the sharp reminder. 

Taking a deep breath, he knew he'd rather be hanging by the ceiling right now than this. At least then he had ways he could fight back if he wanted, whether swinging or something else. This just made things worse, taking any fighting chance that he was feeling anywhere out of his system in knowing every way he thought about things was being frozen?

"So you want some water?" It was the question repeated by Derek, and it was now becoming the worst thing to hear. It brought every forth every bad idea you could imagine, followed by regret. Why did he have to cave to his desires? Why did he have reason to ask for something in return?

He feels a cloth put around his face, held tightly behind the back of his head. Focused on deep breaths, every bit of training in ensuring your breathes were slow and constant, relaxed in ensuring your heart rate didn't increase or panic didn't set in were ringing through his mind repeatedly. 

He didn't get a full chance to find his rhythm before he felt the cold liquid against the cloth, seemingly poured down in a bucket, soaking through quicker than he could imagine. 

In an instant, he felt the water stop, deep breathes threatening to flood his lungs with water as coughing took over the desire to want water. He forced himself to cough harder than wanted, knowing forced flat would allow the water to sit if any remained in his lungs, and that'd bring bigger problems. He then resorts back to his breathing regime, knowing it'd be necessary in feeling the cloth pushed back against his face, followed by another bucket as he tries to stop as much water coming in as possible.

"Give me some information or else this will continue...." Derek's voice rings out, barely registering with Jay as he tried to focus on his simple steps of survival, knowing that should be the only focus if he wanted to have a single chance at seeing his family again.