Cioccolata's Book of Operations

1. MELONE

"Abducted by a psychopath with evil intent." - cage...contorted | cannibal corpse caged...contorted 2012

CONTENT WARNINGS: torture, gore, description of torture, mutilation, body horror (?), all-around sadistic content, cioccolata himself is a warning, suicidal ideation yet nothing is done, very very sharp objects, if you're scared of doctors don't read, secco is another warning, somebody has their fingers removed, dead dove do not eat

"I could kill them," He didn't really mean it.. Or did he? Not even he was sure. All he knew was that he was angry. Cioccolata and Secco brutally murdered Sorbet and Gelato, his friends.
They didn't exist Risotto's words repeated in Melone's head, a vicious loop. They did exist, they didn't deserve what happened, but oh. If only Melone had checked his surroundings before he spoke. He had gone to Venice for a mission, one he wasn't very fond of doing on his own but Ghiaccio had refused to accompany him. Unbeknownst to him, Squalo and Tiziano had been nearby, at least long enough to hear his mutters. Had they told Cioccolata?

Maybe that's how he got here, staring at a bright light from a medical lamp. He stared, staying silent. He knew he couldn't do much, being strapped to a table, the binds were tight enough to feel like his circulation had been cut off. He couldn't see anything in the room, it was dark. The only light source had been directed to his face, blinding him just a bit. Fuck was all he could think. He couldn't even use his stand, leaving him completely defenseless. He heard huffing, his eyes moving to the side. He was greeted by the man.. The animal, Secco. Secco crawled closer to Melone's face, a camera at most three inches from him. All he could do was stare. Is this what he got for the threat? He didn't mean it, had Cioccolata gotten permission from the Boss? Would the Boss even care? La Squadra had been on thin ice, would he have been left to die? He didn't think so, of course, his team would come to get him. He heard a deep chuckle, a pit forming in his stomach. Cioccolata smiled down at Melone. A sadist grin ear-to-ear plastered on his face. "Go ahead, kill us." Cioccolata removed the binding on Melone's body. Melone planted his hands onto the medical and pushed himself off, instantly collapsing. No.
"The spinal cord is important to the body, it helps you move, helps your organs," Cioccolata began, his foot planted onto the purple-haired man's back. "There are 31 nerves inside of the spinal cord," From that sentence, Melone knew exactly what happened. "I severed your spinal nerves T1 and T6,"
"You bastard!" Melone shouted, he never meant to say that out loud but for fucks sake, the man paralyzed his legs. Secco crouched lower, the camera directly in Melone's face, panning down his back. Without much ability to protest, Melone didn't fight Cioccolata when he had picked him up to place him back on the table. He felt his heart beating, feeling like it would rip directly out of his chest. He stared at the light as it shined brighter into his eyes. "I would recommend sitting up unless you want to drown in your blood," Melone's eyes widened. What the FUCK was this psychopath going to do to him. Cioccolata threw him over his shoulder, walking towards a chair. It looked like the type of chairs you'd sit in at the dentist. He put the back, securing the man's head to the back of the chair. "Open," Cioccolata demanded, without a choice, Melone slowly opened his mouth, a cheek contractor placed into his mouth. He didn't even know what to do, a needle entered his right arm, and another was placed into his left. "Oh, oops," A chuckle left Cioccolata's mouth. "It looks like Secco missed your vein." He took the needle out, causing Melone to wince in pain. He was never very fond of needles, much less now. Once the nail was lodged into his arm again he groaned. "You'll need a blood transfusion as we do this," Cioccolata spoke. "I apologize for any pain that'll be caused," Melone knew that was absolute bullshit. His tone of voice wasn't apologetic, he knew this made the former surgeon excited.
Cioccolata gripped Melone's tongue, Melone instinctively pulling his tongue away. A scowl formed on Cioccolata's face. "Moving your tongue while we do this is dangerous, " He warned. Melone's brows furrowed, do this. What the hell did he mean? Cioccolata grabbed a hemostat and placed it on his tongue. The grip was firm. "Secco, hold this for me.. You'll be rewarded." Cioccolata stared into Melone's eyes, his expression dark as tears pricked the other's eyes. He rarely cried. Nobody had ever seen the ardent man cry before, he was often seen as excited. Sure he cracked when they got Sorbet and Gelato's bodies but he didn't cry and he back to being a nuisance the next day. Secco set the camera onto a stand, pointing directly at Melone. Cioccolata grabbed a sharp scalpel with a gloved hand. "This won't be too hard, it'll cut through easily." To prove his thought, he lightly pressed, dragging the scalpel along Melone's cheek, cutting it. Melone instantly yelled in pain, seeing the smile on Cioccolata, as if it was even possible his smile had gotten weird.
He placed the scalpel against the middle of his tongue, dragging it down till he reached the tip of his tongue, Melone's screams filled the room, and he felt a bit of the blood trickle down his throat. The salty metallic taste reached his nose. Cioccolata pulled away, "Did you know salt on a wound can dry the blood? We don't want you to bleed now do we?" Cioccolata cackled, pouring the salt onto Melone's tongue. It burned. Oh god, it burned. I'm going to die here. That was that he could think, he was going to die here, at the hands of his sick sadist. He couldn't even fight back, trying to move his arms caused him a burning pain, he assumed it was from the needles. Cioccolata smirked at him, scraping the clumped-up salt with the scalp, cutting his tongue in the process. Melone choked on his screams, tears running down his cheeks. His tongue involuntarily twitched, causing the scalpel to make jagged cuts. Melone glared at the camera, it caught every tear, every twitch in his body. He knew Cioccolata had been making unnecessary cuts on his tongue, prolonging his pain. All of this because he had said he would kill him and Secco, he didn't even mean it. He felt himself slowly starting to lose consciousness. At least he wouldn't have to feel the pain, right? Cioccolata light slapped his face, "No, no, we can't have that." He walked to the drawers, pulling out a capsule of smelling salts. He brought it to the man's nose, his eyes bursting open. A small chuckle left Cioccolata's lips as he grabbed the scalpel again, slicing the tip of Melone's tongue, forcing a shriek from his throat, Cioccolata dropped the flesh onto a small surgical plate.
Cioccolata cut into the corners of Melone's mouth. "I need more room to work, the blood dripped down onto Cioccolata's gloves and Melone's shoulders. So this is what the blood transfusion was for. Melone's cheeks were stained with tears, his eyes red and puffy. He looked down, seeing as Secco looked intently at him, raspy huffing leaving his mouth. It felt like that was all he could hear, the rasp from Secco and his hot breath against his face. He couldn't tell if the sweat was from the pain or from the fact Secco's breath had been on his face for the past.. How long has it been? He remembered the clock was at 2:40 pm since the operation had started. He looked at the clock, 4;16. It had been two hours and barely the tip of his tongue was cut off. This was long torture.. Torture was exactly what it was. Cioccolata moved the chair back, cutting into Melone's tongue. Melone took a deep breath, his eyes showed instant regret as he began choking on his own blood. Cioccolata grinned, putting the seat back up. He released Melone's head, letting it fall forward. He allowed the man to spit out the blood, it fell onto his lap but the process of spitting caused a burning sensation. Before he could even react he was forced back against the chair, his heading being strapped again. Secco grabbed Melone's tongue with the hemostat, holding it out for Cioccolata. The green-haired man ran the scalpel over his tongue again, deepening the previous cuts. Melone huffed, trying to prevent screaming. He didn't want to give Cioccolata the satisfaction. Cioccolata then began the process of removing Melone's tongue. First cutting just below his uvula. Melone sucked in the taste of his own blood, having no alternative. With a hum from Cioccolata, Secco moved Melone's tongue up, allowing Cioccolata to cut him, avoiding his veins. His throat was scratchy from screaming, he tried to scream but it came out as a weak wail, his throat burning.
Cioccolata finally began to cut through the veins, this is what hurt the most. Melone's upper body thrashed around, wailing. He sobbed, he couldn't hold back any emotions. Cioccolata held his tongue between his fingers, Melone's mouth filled with blood that dripped from the sides. Cioccolata grabbed a cloth, pressing it against his tongue to stop the bleeding, Melone instantly fell unconscious, Cioccolata smirking at him. "He likes to make jokes, he likes to smile,"

Melone had awoken, feeling cold. He looked around, gulping. He couldn't see anything. He felt around, realizing he was on the floor. He felt a door, desperately knocking. The door was opened by Prosciutto. "Can I he–" He saw Melone on the ground, his stomach dropping. A note stapled to his arm, it was a simple note from Cioccolata, a warning; any threat to his life or Secco's life was as good as suicide. The more he looked at the man, the more he realized the horror his friend suffered. Melone made incoherent noises, unable to speak. Prosciutto looked down, there were four-inch cuts on the corners of Melone's mouth, looking like a smile. He glanced down at his hands, noting that his fingers had been severed off, down to the knuckles. He noticed him on the floor, not standing or trying to stand, assuming he couldn't walk. He grabbed him, dragging him inside. That's when he saw into his mouth, his tongue had been cut off. He stumbled back in horror, staring at him, he's never been caught off guard like this. Melone tried to feel around, confused and afraid.
Was it Prosciutto? He recognized the voice. All he could do was lie on his side as the others discussed his condition, he couldn't tell who it was though somebody recommended putting him out of his misery. He couldn't deny he was in misery but he wasn't some sick dog, though he knew they weren't wrong. He had been paralyzed, blinded, and without his tongue, he couldn't talk. He was picked up and placed into his room, he couldn't even sleep. He stared at nothing, propped up on his bed. At this point, he wanted to die.