Fireflies in Moonlight [boyxboy]

Chapter XVI

~Thursday 10th November 2011~           -Kija-

"This is just boring now," the knife fell from Kija's hand, disregarded as it clattered against the concrete beneath. The sound echoed, bounced off the bare walls around them, a whisper of what had passed before the silence filled that empty space. The human didn't even flinch, eyes remaining on that same point behind Kija that he had stared at for the last three hours. Perhaps Kija wasn't very good at this. He had never tortured anyone before, perhaps that showed. Was he hesitant? Holding back? The human screamed enough, shrieked bloody murder when Kija wanted him to. And, yet, not a word had been spoken of his creed. Perhaps Kija merely wasn't trying hard enough.

"You're giving me nothing, maybe I just end it," the wounds were superficial, nothing more than surface injuries. Nothing deep enough to scar. Perhaps that was where Kija was going wrong. That human's features might have been disfigured, and healing would be no walk in the park, but there was nothing that wouldn't have faded in a week or two. Black eyes, bust lips, bruised jaws; they were all as ephemeral as if the stabs and slashes. Nothing to really make the human squirm, nothing to make his heart race. Kija turned away briefly, surveying the tools laid out for him on the table by the opposite wall. Something different, something more.

"Nothing quick though, you don't deserve that. Maybe..." Kija thought, picturing the goal he was aiming for, hoping inspiration might burn from the image, "maybe I'll take you apart. Cut pieces off you, cauterize the wounds so you don't bleed out," a glance at the human had Kija just as frustrated as before. His ire was hidden, concealed behind an expression of vapid indifference, yet it smouldered in his stomach. At the rate he was going, the human would pass of old age before he gave Kija anything. Tarian would begin to suspect soon, Kija knew it. A monster unable to make one human talk, it was hardly plausible. Was he already concerned? Was there already talk of severing the deal Kija had made with him? The balance teetered out of Kija's favour if he couldn't get just something out of that human.

"Maybe I'll poison you. Something slow acting, wait until you're just begging me to put you out of your misery... Then give you the antidote and start all over again," was there a flicker, even just a breath of reaction? "That might be fun, we've not done that yet," in reality, Kija wasn't sure. He had no knowledge of human poison, nothing beyond the lethality of fox glove and fatal arsenic. Kija was rambling, saying whatever came to mind. The human knew, he had to. It was obvious, obvious to Kija anyway. He was out of his depth, drowning, beyond the point of treading water.

Kija was quiet for a moment, eyes still trained on the table of torture instruments. Bloodied and strewn across the chipped wood beneath, Kija couldn't see a tool that remained unused. And, yet, he drew no inspiration from the display, letting his eyes close in a brief moment of true frustration. Thankfully, he was facing away from the human as he thought, however, that didn't mean his behaviour went unnoticed. Kija didn't care. He told himself it didn't matter regardless. If the human hadn't figured it out already, he would soon enough.

Bizarrely, there had been no taunts from the human. Even as Kija struggled, ambling lost through what he hoped was adequate torture, there had never been any retort from the human. No seething curse or spit of blood. The human had been amicable, unemotional, unresponsive. Perhaps that was a tactic of his own. Offering no counter to spur Kija into harming him more. Or perhaps it had the opposite effect, infuriating the vampire even more.

Maybe the human was biding his time. Maybe he believed he might be saved. There was nothing to say other humans were looking for him, other members of whatever vile group they had formed in retaliation of the wolves that ruled over them. Still, the human held out hope. In another world, in another time, Kija might have found that commendable. He held on despite the reality unfolding before him. He would never leave that room alive, there was only a slim chance Kija might let him live, and that was entirely dependent on the continued existence of the very vampire himself.