A Living Shield (John Price x OC/Reader slowburn)

28) A Haunting Truth

[🎵: Hallelujah - Underoath 🔂]

A voice can only reach so high. A mind can only last so long. And a bone can only bend so far.

Before it breaks.

So where will you break? Snap at the seams? Unravel everywhere until there is nothing holding you together. A complete loss of self.

Pain burrows inside of you, becoming numb over time. Your mind and body learn to adapt to it, filter it out, in the grand scheme of staying alive. You ignore pain on the daily, your senses override it. Losing awareness of it's existence as it becomes part of the regular, mundane impulses your nerve endings register.

Because the mind controls the physical. Bending it to assure survival.

But what happens when you do break the mind?

A simple thought that'd eluded you up until now, not really a priority in your circumstances. But it wouldn't avoid you forever. And the pain you felt right now was unavoidable. The man wielding the knife in front of you seemed more than aware of it as well.

"I can see it's wearing on you. One simple solution, querida~, answer me."

"Suck a dick", you said with a provoking glare as you flung blood out of your mouth. The deep, bloody cuts on your arms and face stinging as if acid was covering them.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, language, sargento", Fernandez tisked as he lifted your chin with the tip of the knife, "Now for the last time, tell me where they are, the location of the safehouse."

"Just save yourself the effort", you mumbled out, wincing as you moved your body, "and kill me while you're at it. Get it over with."

Fernandez shook his head, honestly looking a little done and irritated. Half an hour had gone by of that same question being asked, over and over. Your recently mended body now being tested all over again, previous cuts and bruises opening ever so painfully. And worse. Your hands were tied to the sides of the chair now and one finger in particular looked anything but healthy. A crooked angle showing a sharp contrast against the rest of your normal seeming digits, courtesy of Castillo Jr. himself. A quick but disturbing reminder he had called it, making sure you were taking him seriously. The pain was horrifying, sickening even. Radiating through your entire arm as you forced it to stay still. If you let yourself focus on it too long you'd get nauseous.

But this was nothing in comparison to what you'd expected at this point. A broken finger was mendable, a cut off one wouldn't be. So you gritted your teeth, breathing in deeply through your nose, waiting to see where this was going.

You'd given him more than enough at this point and you were done playing his games. Speeding this situation up was all you cared about.

"Always so quick with the killing and the dying. We're not in a rush he-", Fernandez lectured while shaking his head, strutting around the room a little.

"Seems to me that we are. What's wro-", you coughed in between words, "wrong? Can't find my people? They slipping through your fingers?"

"They can't hide forever. And once I get you to te-"

"We both know I won't talk."

"Stop. Interrupting. Me."

A sigh escaped Fernandez's lips while he turned his face away for a second, circling the room as he walked. Slowly but steadily you noticed you were testing his patience. He didn't show it as much at first, but you noticed the signs. The jaw tensing. His eyes harshening, drawing tighter. The balling of the fists.