When your the only one left believing. The only one left with hope. How do you hold that weight? The one where your the strongest one, even though you seem the weakest. How, do you keep hoping and hoping when there's no hope left?
Hope. That's what they'd always told him. Always have hope, even in the darkest of times. He'd always seen the bad in people, but more importantly, the good. No matter how bad someone seemed, he always had hope that the good in them would overcome the bad. He'd always had hope that the world would be a great place. He always believed, and that was something everyone loved about him.
But, how do you keep having hope if the world around you is crumbling down? Now, that's the real question, one that constantly plagued his mind as he took punch after punch. As he endured whipping after whipping. As he was left beaten, broken, and battered. He wondered why they didn't just end it all. Why they didn't just take him away from this never ending pain. Though he knew they wouldn't, for he had information they wanted, and he wasn't willing to give it to them, for he had hope that the others would come for him. He, throughout everything, had kept that spark of hope within him. Even though he was threatened. Even though he was beaten and left close to death daily. He never gave up hope, for that's all he had left. Hope that everything would be ok, even though he knew they would be back soon, that they'd take him and beat him again.
Just like he predicted, he heard the heavy footsteps as the person, who's name he never learned, came down the old stone hallway. He knew what was going to happen, yet he was oddly calm, like always. He knew freaking out and struggling would only make it worse.
"You gonna tell us?" The person asks as they reach his cell.
He snorts. "Do you really have to ask?"
"You never know. You could change your mind."
"Ha. Like that'd ever happen."
The person unlocks the cell door and roughly grabs the tattered and torn collar of his shirt, pulling him roughly off the cold stone ground. The person drags him along as they head down a long hallway, one he had gotten to know well. He had been dragged down this hallway more times than he could count, sadly enough. He was shoved, rather harshly, onto the sole wooden chair in a room with only one exit.
The person leaves, after strapping him to the chair, leaving him to his thoughts. Mentally he could take what was to come. He could, and would, do anything to protect his family and friends. But, physically, he didn't know if he could take much more. He was so sore, tired, and broken. He was also incredibly thin. They, whoever they were, weren't feeding him close to enough. He was lucky if he got a small hunk of bread and some water everyday. Honestly, he was so weak, so fragile, but he couldn't give up. He couldn't let everyone he cared about down.
The only door to the room is slammed closed, causing his head to shoot up. He eyed the Tormenter, as he'd come accustomed to calling him, calmly. As you'd imagine, the Tormenter was big and bulky. He wore all dark clothes and has a tool belt, full of different types of knifes and blades. The Tormenter was very intimidating, but it didn't bother him anymore. It was actually a sight he was used to by now.
"So, Kurt, are you gonna tell me where your 'group' has hidden it?" The Tormenter asks.
"Nope." The man, Kurt, says calmly.
"Are you sure?"
Well, that was new. He'd never questioned Kurt further. That greatly worried Kurt. But, what else could they possibly do? They'd already tortured him in every known way, or at least the ones he could think of.
"Yes." Kurt says, trying to remain calm, though calm was the last thing he was.
The Tormenter grabs a long bladed knife, running his finger along the gleaming silver surface. "I know exactly what your doing. Your trying to be strong. Your trying to convince me that your ok. But I know your not. Have you looked at yourself recently? Your bruised and broken. Your pale and turning to skin and bone. You don't think that I don't see the shakiness every time you move. Or the way you can never quiet sit still anymore, even though you don't have enough energy to." He throws Kurt a pointed look. "You. Your just a weak coward, one who's trying to not only convince me, but yourself, that your strong. That you'll be able to take anything and everything I throw at you. But the thing is, your not. Your weak and broken. Your nothing more than a shame excuse of a person."
