OC Oneshots

32

OC: Jaron Kalvin (he/him)
Species: demigod, son of Hermes, legacy of Aphrodite
Universe: He's from PJO, but he's currently in Kutan
For some context:
The Warden: a literal warden from Minecraft, the head jailer of solitary confinement
Eelyak: the Supreme Judge - leader of the dimension police
Aljak: LunyaVioletBlue's character, a former dimension police from the Genshin Impact universe who got fired and made friends with Jaron (and he totally has a crush on her)
SC/Solitary Confinement: where they send criminals who can't be contained in the main prison and/or did really bad stuff, people who personally angered the Warden or Eelyak, DP traitors, etc.
The choker is to keep Jaron from charmspeaking the guards who come to feed him and stuff
Any questions, just ask, this has a lot more context but if I wrote all of it it would be more context than oneshot lol

TW: TORTURE, KNIVES, BLOOD, FROSTBITE, BROKEN BONES
I have never had frostbite nor have I been tortured (thankfully) so please correct me if I'm wrong with any descriptions

"Ready?" The Warden asked.

He didn't wait for a reply before he unlocked Jaron's restraints, took off the choker that kept him from speaking, and shoved him face-down on the floor. The concrete was rough against his bare chest.

Jaron grunted. "That's not very nice."

"This isn't the wimpy normal prison, pretty boy," the Warden mocked. "We don't do nice in SC. You're in my world now." he raised his spear.

You'll be okay, Jaron told himself. Torture is nothing new.

And then the blade bit into his back, and any attempts to comfort himself dissipated like fog in the wind.

He gritted his teeth, trying not to cry out. The spear was cold - unnaturally cold. Why was it so cold?

It hurt more than a spear was supposed to.

And it was spreading, too - a tingling sort of pain, the kind of pain one felt in the winter when the frigidity bit into their skin and pierced it like thousands of tiny knives. Jaron let out a groan.

"Come on," the Warden prodded.

From the feeling of it, the spear was barbed. The Warden dragged it across his back, from shoulder blade to hip bone. Jaron grasped for something - anything - to hold onto, to bite, to stop himself from screaming, but there was nothing there but empty space and concrete floor.

The Warden put a foot on his other shoulder to stop him from thrashing. There was no blood on the floor. Why was there no blood? There should have been blood.

He focused his vision on his hands. His fingers were trembling. His back was... numb, somehow. But saying it hurt was still an understatement. All the warmth had been drained from his entire body, he was not a person, he was just a body and a thudding heart and cold-

And then the spear was gone.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" The Warden asked. Jaron could hear the grin in his voice. "You ready for part 2?"

"N-no," Jaron begged. "Stop-"

The Warden grabbed his forearm and shoved him back against the wall. Jaron finally screamed as the bricks dug into the wound. Nothing about this place was smooth. Everything was designed to tear, to destroy, to rip the humanity out of a person until they were nothing but a broken caged animal.

Jaron must have blacked out for a second, because when he opened his eyes again, the Warden was gone. His wrists were once again clamped to the wall. The choker was back. His wound was still open, not bandaged, but yet there was no blood. His shirt was back on. Why did they bother to put his shirt back on if they were just going to torture him again later?