Chapter Thirty-Three: You'll Regret Every Crime You've Ever Committed!

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WARNING: WATERBOARDING AND SEXUAL ASSAULT!

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Rufus groaned as his mind stirred awake, slowly blinking open his eyes and raising his head. He grimaced at the stab of pain in his upper back and tried to stretch, but suddenly stopped when he found that he couldn't raise his arms, or even move. His mind and body jumped to attention as his eyes widened with alarm and panic. He looked down at himself, finding that he was sitting in a chair, thick rope tied around his upper body and arms.

Taking a calming breath, he tried to focus on summoning a small amount of magic, testing whether or not his ability to use magic was in some way hindered. When nothing happened, he looked down at himself again, searching for something that would give him a clue as to what was keeping him from using his magic. When he didn't see anything on his person that would suggest that it was canceling his magic, he guessed that it was instead the work of the ropes that bound him.

He looked around at the room he was in, hoping that there would be a method of escape. He appeared to be in a dimly lit, unclean room. The walls and floor were made of stone while the ceiling was wooden. There was no visible escape route and the only other thing in the room besides himself and his chair was a wooden wardrobe that sat against a far wall to the side. There was also a wooden staircase in front of him that lead to something he was unable to see, but he assumed it was a door.

He sighed, knowing that he didn't have much of a chance of escaping. However, he also knew that he shouldn't give up hope of escape. After all, Lucy and Freed were members of Fairy Tail, and Midnight was a reformed dark mage. There was no way they would simply abandon him. All he had to do was do what he could to remain alive and relatively unharmed until they arrived to rescue him. Although, that didn't mean he had to rely on them entirely. He would, of course, take the first opportunity to escape that presents itself.

He looked at the stairs upon hearing the door at the top open and close. He listened as the new arrival walked down the steps, his heart picking up its pace just slightly as the seconds ticked by. He took a deep breath and settled his face into a frown with furrowed brows behind his mask, not wanting to look at all nervous in front of his captor.

The person was soon standing in front of him, and Rufus gave him a quick lookover. The man looked young, probably not at all older than himself. His skin was brown and his hair black, his eyes appearing to be just as dark. His hair was styled in dreadlocks that reached his shoulders. He was dressed in a navy-colored trench coat and black, baggy pants. Like Gray, he lacked a shirt, revealing a muscular physique underneath the coat.

Rufus glared up at him and demanded, "why am I here?"

The man, who Rufus was quite sure was Nyx, simply stared down at him, his facial expression unreadable. He remained where he stood for a few more moments before he walked over to the wardrobe. Rufus called to him forcefully, "where are you going? Tell me why you and the other two captured me!"

Nyx still did not respond, only opened the wardrobe and rummaged through it for a minute before he closed it again and walked back over to Rufus with some items in his arms. He sat a metal bucket down on the floor, just behind Rufus' chair and to the side, along with a piece of cloth and a large kettle.

Rufus watched him with a critical eye, wondering what he was doing, while at the same time, feeling dread rise from within his gut at the possibility of what was to come soon. Nyx was soon out of his sight, having walked behind him. The blonde man listened to the rummaging that the younger man was doing, along with a few clanging sounds of metal and the sound of splashing water.

Rufus swallowed thickly as he listened. His mouth was dry and he feel a bead of sweat slide a short distance down his temple before it soaked into his mask. His hands balled into fists, his fingernails digging into his palms. He gritted his teeth as an anxious feeling filled him, giving him a faint feeling of nausea. He locked his eyes on the staircase across the room from him as if he was trying to set it on fire with only his gaze.

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