SHADOWS OF SORROW [S.S]

20 - In the Shadow of Redemption

[mentions of blood, gore and violence]
Also, if someone doesn't recognize the inspiration of the torture scene, I strongly advice you to watch The Last of Us or play it like I did. Joel Miller superiority.

"Focus right here, right here." Sebastian tapped the poachers chin with two fingers as he grunted in pain from the several cuts on his face so he would lift his head. That bastard was tied to a chair in the center of this tent, no noises to be heard anywhere outside since he cleared them all out. A second poacher was whimpering, driving in and out of consciousness, tied to the table in the back, uncomfortably leaning against the oak leg. The black-haired man looked up at Sebastian's request, a dizzy gaze and the blood running out of his nose continuously. Sallow dragged another chair through the tent to place it in front of his subject, sitting down knee to knee, twirling a dagger in his hands. "Where did you bring the hippogriff?" He sounded rather calm considering the situation. He's been beating the shit out of these two poachers, his knuckles covered in their and his own blood, his school robe and suit long forgotten. He wasn't going to risk they could track him down, wearing a black ensemble instead. The poacher I front of him whimpered, shaking his head slowly, indicating he wasn't going to tell on all the other bastards that went around torturing and killing every beast they came upon. Sebastian clenched his jaw, that small bit of regret way too small to care as he drove the dagger into the man's thigh, his scream echoing through the tent, his friend in the back shaking his head desperately as if he was going mad. "No, no,no,no,no..."

Sallow leaned in, so his subject was going to hear him clearly even with that loud noise in his ears resulting out of the pain. "Tell me where it is or I'll slice your goddamn leg all the way down until its separated into two." He hissed, the poacher shutting his eyes in an attempt to escape or hold the information Sebastian needed, in. "I don't know..." What a lie. The Slytherin sighed, as if he cared, dragging the dagger down the side of his thigh, cutting open his flesh without hesitation, another shattering scream waking up his accomplice in the back that has been unconscious again. "Where is it?" His words a mere hiss, holding the knife tight, pushing it further into the skin whenever the poacher moved in an attempt to escape the excruciating pain. "Th- The Arena." He mumbled out of breath, his heart probably stopping and starting again with each inch that dagger cut open. "WHAT FUCKING ARENA?!" The poacher flinched, shaking his head in disbelief of the situation he was in. "In the northwest of the Forbidden Forest... The- They brought him there with the other special Beasts... They bid on their guess of who will win in a fight. It's a Battle Arena." – "You sick bastards." Sebastian ripped the dagger out of the poacher's leg, turning it around and shoving the handle between the man's teeth so the blade was facing the wizard. "You're going to mark the spot of this arena on the map and it better be the same fucking spot your buddy points to."

With the knife in his mouth he wasn't able to say anything as Sebastian took out a Map of the Highlands, holding it steadily in front of the tip of the blade. His gaze was cold as he met his victim's eyes, causing a shudder down his spine as he leaned forward a little, the blade shaking because of his trembling lips, marking the spot of this supposed arena with his own blood. The dark-haired male spit out the weapon, eager to say whatever was on his mind. "Go on you sick fuck. Confirm with him. I'm not lying! He will tell you the same thing." Sebastian stood up as he grabbed his dagger, wiping off the blood on his black pants and tugging it back into its assigned spot on his back. "I don't need his conformation..." A smile formed on his lips as he took out his wand instead. "I trust you." The horror on their faces shadowed their expression of fear, knowing there was no way out of this alive. It was over.

Avada Kedavra.

† † †

Sebastian chewed on his lip, the map in his hands hard to read with the whirling winds up here on his broom. The spot marked with the poacher's blood was already dried up by now, a sick brown color to it but he didn't mind. He's seen enough bloodshed the past two days, trying to find Calligo. Raiding Poacher camps, torturing them for information and sometimes crossing paths with loyalists or dark wizards, taking them out gladly as well. He has used more unforgivable curses in two days than ever in his life before since he learned them in the Undercroft at night back in 5th year. "Looks like the spot.", he mumbled to himself as his map disappeared, gazing down in between the trees, his knuckles aching as he grabbed the wood of his broom to steady himself. A few tents stood on a small clearing, about 5 poachers patrolling around the area. Maybe more. He was so close to getting Calligo back, he won't stop now. Of course he's been missing classes but Weasley probably shrugged it off with the thought he was traumatized by what he saw that night. In all honesty, he was traumatized. Sleep deprived and haunted by nightmares where he was the one hurting Amaya instead of those damn poachers beneath him. That horrible feeling whenever he jolted awake after a quick, cautious nap in an area he cleared out. He most definitely wasn't in his best form but it was good enough to get here so it would be good enough to get Amaya's hippogriff back.