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Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

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Between Duty and Desire

(Part 4)

DISCLAIMER: Torture (psychological and physical), Swearing, Yelling, Mention of Violence

Word Count: 4523 words

Hope you enjoy  ♥

This one gets kinda heavy

***

I didn't know how long I had been here.

Every second dragged by, each moment more suffocating than the last. Cold metal pressed against my skin where the force restraining cuffs bit into my wrists. My body ached. My muscles felt stiff and weak, the aftermath of who knew how many days—weeks, maybe longer—spent confined in this cell.

I couldn't remember the last time I had eaten more than scraps or drank more than a pinch of water. Every time I tried to focus, the hunger, the thirst, the exhaustion—it all blurred together. My head spun, and my thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind.

But the worst part? The worst part was the silence.

There was a faint hum in the distance–a low, constant vibration of what was most likely a facility's power engines—but here, in my cell, there was nothing but the echo of my own breath. My mind spun in isolation, unraveling piece by piece.

I had almost zero contact with anyone during my time here. The only visits I got were from masked Separatists—silent, faceless figures that came to torture me in various ways daily. Each time they appeared, it was a different method, a new form of torment designed to break me. One day, they starved me until I felt my body wither, the next, they injected me with something that made my head spin and my thoughts grow hazy. Sometimes, they simply stood and watched, while I fought to maintain whatever shred of consciousness I had left.

The torment never ended. It was limitless. It was a slow death.

Just then the shadows moved.

It was faint at first, like a flicker in the corner of my eye. But as always it was impossible to ignore. The air shifted. The darkness pressed closer. And I heard it—the voice. Soft at first, barely a whisper, but unmistakable.

"You're nothing."

I stiffened, my body jerking at the sound of the voice, the words like a blade cutting through the fragile shell of my sanity. My pulse pounded in my ears, and I fought to control the usual panic rising in my chest.

"You're nothing," the voice repeated, clearer this time, cold and full of venom.

I shut my eyes and shook my head, trying to block out the source of the words, but it felt as though the voice was coming from everywhere, inside my mind, echoing against the wall of my soul. The darkness around me seemed to deepen, pressing in from every direction until it was impossible to distinguish where it ended and began.

"Pathetic."

My eyes snapped open at the word, anger fueling my gaze. I wasn't alone anymore.

She stood across from me, the twisted version of myself—dark, cruel, and unrecognizable. Her eyes glinted with malice, her lips curling into a smile that was anything but kind. The sight of her made my stomach churn.

This was not the first time she came to visit me. In fact, it had become a familiar routine—her cold, calculating presence slipping through the shadows, like a wraith stalking its prey. The first time she appeared, I thought I had imagined it. After all, the mind does strange things when it's been starved and tortured, when isolation wears you thin and desperation claws at your insides. But no. She was real, or at least as real as another version of myself could be.