The Story of Lancelot

Part 6

Ch.21

The first month was simple...Lance actually made a schedule for it. Mondays and Tuesdays were when those two assholes came to water board him. Wednesdays through Fridays they would try to strangle him then after words beat him to a bloody pulp. Finally the weekend, Saturdays and Sundays they would leave Lance alone with Serro for mental torture. He preferred two guys trying to choke or drown the life from his lungs. The mirror was always just sat at the end of the room, at least for anyone else other than Lance. Only Lance could see the horrors in the mirror, Serro would mutilate the guards right in front of him. He would tear their limbs off eating them like chicken legs with his shark-like teeth. He would rip open their bodies pulling their organs and intestines out, sometimes to eat or sometimes to use the blood to write writings on the wall. Serro would normally pull veins and organs out from the limbs and bodies of the guards and wear them like scarfs, gloves. The worst thing though was how Serro could mix the realities from the mirror and real life, it wasn't Serro covered head to toe in the blood and gore...it was Lance. He had all the veins, intestines and organs on his body Reginald would often watch Lancelot flip out like he was watching someone being murdered right in front of him. The first month was simple...

The second month was when things changed. Whenever the guards came now it was with something different but it was meant to serve the same purpose...pain. His days of almost being drowned were over, the beatings however got way more severe. They would bend his fingers until they snapped backward. Moving up the arm they snapped his wrist. They followed this pattern, breaking every bone in the kid's arms. His screams of pain wouldn't make them hesitate, if anything, it made them move faster up his arm. When they got to his shoulders they decided to dislocate his arms. "No more bones to break here...let's move to his legs." Every bone up Lancelot's legs were broken next. It made no difference what they did to him though, as soon as they left all his wounds would just heal themselves, his body constantly working to regenerate and fix the damage done to him. Everyday followed the same pattern now, a horrible beating followed by his arms and legs being twisted, smashed, broken and dislocated. Everyday ended the same too, Lance hung by the now vestigial arms connected to the walls by the chains and bones stabbing out from the useless skin of his limbs. His limbs looked like someone re-bent an unbent paperclip in multiple different degrees.

The first year mark and this was when things were getting really violent. One day the guards walked in like normal and Lance glared at them. The on the left marched up to him, grabbed his jaw while pulling a knife and cut from the side of his eye all the way under his jaw. Lance screamed from the pain as blood filled his vision in his left eye. The guard slammed Lance's head into his knee as the other one pulled another knife. While one guard held Lancelot still another started cutting his fingers off. Lance cried a mixture of blood and tears while he yelled, trying to reach his voice to someone-anyone. His fingers were the first to go, next were his toes. The guards cut into the poor boy's flesh as slowly as possible to ensure the most painful experience. After a month missing fingers and toes were nothing. They started cutting off his legs in inches. They couldn't do his arms because then he would get out. Half-way through the year they decided to start skinning him. They treated Lancelot like an Onion, peeling layers and layers of skin off his bones. Sometimes there would barely by any muscles connecting his bones together and his limbs would often twitch, forcing a grunt of pain from the boy. When blades got boring they chose something else, something hot. They held his feet in a raging fire and held glowing metal against his skin. Everything eventually healed, no matter what they did. Reginald told them "If we can't hurt him on the outside, we'll hurt him on the inside." They would force Lance to eat hot coals and then wash them down with some molten Iron. They'd gouge out his eyes and put the coals in his sockets. Lance soon learned he couldn't fight them, he just stayed still. Everything eventually burned it's way through him making a hole in his abdomen. When the men left Lance just stared at the ground, letting his body heal the injuries he gained.