Juan drained Cuntor physically, mentally, and emotionally. Just when Cuntor was about to pass out from exhaustion, Juan forced his head into a bucket of cold water until he was close to drowning. Juan also cut Cuntor's skin. He made slits all over Cuntor's body until the limb was covered in blood. He scratched Cuntor's back with a sharp screwdriver even. Cuntor just wanted the torture to end. He would rather die than live with this for another moment.
"Wow, we played so many games, weren't they fun? But hey, all good things must come to an end, right?" Juan asked. Cuntor slowly nodded, barely having enough energy for that.
"Well, we can play more tomorrow, right?" Juan asked, grasping the blood stained screwdriver in hand.
Cuntor nodded again.
"Good. Now, goodnight Cuntor." he said, grin even larger now.
Cuntor noticed only one thing now. It was a bump in Juan's right arm. It was a microchip. Cuntor also noticed something else. Juan made a slight incision in the duct tape, the only thing keeping Cuntor back.
Cuntor started tearing apart the duct tape. It took him an hour before he could finally stretch the tiny hole to a size that he was able to rip the tape off. He took the tape off his ankles. He was free.
Cuntor picked up the exact knife Juan used to torture him. He walked over to the dusty sleeping bag Juan called his "bed." Cuntor decided he wasn't going to hold anything back. He jumped on top of Juan and pinned him down.
"What the hell?" Juan got out, his face being held down to the ground.
"This is gonna hurt me a lot more than it's going to hurt you." Cuntor said as some type of warning as Juan's eye widened.
Cuntor pierced Juan's right arm, a centimeter away from the chip. Cuntor tried prying the chip out of Juan's skin. Juan was screaming out of pain, tears going down his face. He was trying to get Cuntor off him, but was losing strength fast. Cuntor finally got the chip out of Juan's arm. Juan had passed right before this, probably from blood loss, or just the pain in general.
Cuntor stitched Juan's wound up using a string from Juan's blood stained shirt. Cuntor tried falling asleep, but the adrenaline from what he just did kept him up.
He dried up Juan's tears from his face. He was praying he would have his "smol mexican" back.
Juan woke up several hours later. Juan woke up seeing Cuntor in fetal position. Then Juan saw the blood stains all around, and saw his stitched arm.
"What the fuck? Cuntor?" Juan said as his heartbeat quickened.
"Oh, you're up." Cuntor said nonchalantly. Juan was gasping for air at this point.
"Did you do this? What the fuck Cuntor, are you a sadist. Where the fuck are we?"
"Listen, it is a long story. I don't want to talk about it, but I didn't fucking torture you."
"Explain these goddamn stitches you fucking lying psychopath."
"Explain these scratches." Cuntor said, lifting his back.
"What the fuck, who did that?"
"It was you."
"Cuntor shut the fuck up. It wasn't me.
"Juan it was. We're in Canada. You were a sleeper agent sent by Trump to kill me for whatever reason. You kidnapped me amd tortured me for hours."
"Fucking horseshit."
"Explain this microchip."
Juan grabbed the microchip. Putting on his glasses, he saw written in tiny letters his name, date of birth, ethnicity, gender, sexuality etc.
"Oh...my...god." Juan barely made out before he started crying.
"I know." Cuntor sighed out.
"I'm sorry Cuntor. I'm fucking sorry. I can't believe I did this." he said.
"You didn't do anything. That was a completely different Juan. That's not you. That Juan is gone, forever." Cuntor said.
Juan hugged Cuntor, holding him tight. Cuntor started crying too, but he tried holding back tears.
"We're going to be okay." Cuntor whispered into Juan's ear.
