Accidentally On Purpose

Torture

                                                        Sketch's P.O.V.

I shivered in the cold. It hurt to do that, but I did. My fingers were a purple color, and sometimes I could see my breath. They also forced me to keep nothing on my feet, and now I sit with my eyes closed, trying not to remember.

They had taken Dylan away, to another cell. Now I don't know how much time has passed since I have arrived, and I rarely sleep. I had a lot of time to think, now, too. Not about escape, no, they didn't feed me enough to do that. I would wait for my friends. I sit waiting, having daydreams and happy memories. I remember when I first met Quill. He had thought we were all crazy because I was scared of feet, and when Kitty let him in the house I was in my costume. Yes, we met on Halloween. I was in a huge cinnamon roll, and Kitty left to get her chainsaw for her Jason costume so she could scare little children. Quill didn't have a costume, sadly, and was very surprised when Neighbor appeared behind him as a pencil. Yes, I managed to get the grumpy vampire into a pencil costume. Wait, this memory was a bad one because it reminded me of Neighbor.

It wasn't his real name. No, I forget his real name because back when I met him I was set on calling him Neighbor. And he seemed to be a pretty cool guy, until he tried to drain every drop from Kitty. That's why I buried him alive and got Al to relocate the house--and Quill's--to a safer place, which just so happened to be a real place. Making us real.

But I still hate Neighbor.

Then a rapping on the cell had me alert. It was the man, Jenson, and two others with a suitcase. Something told me clothing wasn't inside. Jenson opened the door and sat across from me, putting a hand on my forehead. "Are you feeling well?"

"I still hurts." I whispered, my throat raw and voice garbled. He nodded and used a finger to bring the other two in. I recognized one of them to be the one who brought me here. "So, will you tell me how you are here? Who is your creator? How can we make more like you?"

I kept my mouth closed. Al knew that people would question me at some point, and it was best never to tell. They would use it, and I couldn't let that happen.

Jenson sighed. "So, we're doing this the hard way. Palmer, Yujin, open it. Get out the cow prod."

Cow prod?

What have I done?

I clenched my jaw shut. Al told me that if they found out, they would create whole armies, and wipe out all supernatural life. And though they could be destroyed easily, they could make a thousand more in a matter of seconds. They wouldn't get me to speak, they couldn't. I'm doing this to save my friends, their family.

Jenson took out the cow prod, and pointed it at me. It hovered dangerously over my Netherlands. And I could barely move. "I will ask you again, who is your creator? How are you here? How can we make more like you?"

"Same way you got here: my mom got laid." I lied. Yup, I'm not as innocent as people think. Being happy and dumb is just better than acknowledging the evil in the world and being pessimistic.

I bit back a scream of pain, my eyes tearing up. As I tensed, my stitches hurt. Jenson took the cow prod away from my crotch and leaned in to meet my eyes. "We both know that isn't true."

"So you're saying my mother cheated?"

"What? No that's not--you know what I mean." he snapped, slapping me in the face. He stuck the cow prod in my stomach, right on my scar. I trembled, numb, but said nothing. Jenson growled and threw the cow prod out of the cell. "Get the chair."

"Already? But you haven't used the iron..." the taller one I didn't recognize muttered. Jenson glared at them and they left to get...the chair. Whatever that was.

Jenson stood, walking to the cell door. "You will tell me how you are, or you will die. Either now or later, depending on when you spill." he told me, clenching his fists. He dug in his pockets, taking out some gloves. "This will get messy, so I would suggest telling me now."

"I was told not to, and I don't break the rules." I managed to say. But he smiled. "So, you still speak with your creator? And where may they be?"

"I don't know. She doesn't tell me." I muttered, turning from my side to my back. Then I realized I just narrowed down a whole lot of people for him to search for. He grinned and clapped his hands. "Excellent! I do think this she visits you, yes? We will double security and watch to see your creator."

The two came back with an ancient chair, and picked me up to put me in it. They strapped me to the chair, and I realized what this was. An electric chair? Really? I tensed the best I could without hurting myself, and Jenson went to the back of the chair, so I waited. And waited. And waited.

But nothing happened. "Is the chair broken you guys?" I asked, tugging the restraints. I was surprised when my arms slipped right out, and so were the others. Jenson was giddy. "Paper doesn't conduct electricity! Wait, if your derived from paper and pencil, then maybe you have properties of graphite as well. Get the knives, quick!"

I became very aware when he said knives. They went back to the suitcase, and took out the biggest knives I've seen. Not even Kitty's knife collection could compare to these knives, and she had some crazy things in there. I smiled at remembering her explaining them. This one's a pickle knife, and that's a vegetable knife--oh! Oh! This one is a special knife, I made it myself. I call it the fork-knife, one end is a fork, the other if a knife. I don't advise you to hold the knife end, though. Maybe this wasn't a good idea...

A sharp jab to my stomach shook me from her, and it hurt. I actually did let out a cry when the knife in my stomach was twisted around, blood spilling. I was held back by the two as Jenson dug the knife in deeper and hit bone. I heard a scraping, and it hurt so bad. Tears spilled from my eyes, and I could hear myself screaming for them to stop. I could taste it now, too, as he slid the knife up, cutting me practically in half. I couldn't breathe now, as blood was coming from my mouth.

"I can't cut your bones, but you seem to be very easy to split. Like paper, and your bones like stone." Jenson proclaimed, and finally took the knife away. He took out a needle and thread, and began to stitch me back up, organs first. I coughed blood, trying to breathe, and dots danced in my vision from pain and lack of oxygen. Normal people would have passed out from the pain, but for some reason I couldn't. I screamed when he tightened the stitches, and a hazy image of Kitty sitting down in a van appeared before me. I sat limp in the chair, a small smile on my face. I was just hallucinating, wasn't I?

But then she looked me in the eye and screamed, yanking the wheel. She started crying, and I wanted to dry her tears. I knew she could see me, somehow. I reached out, feeling the ghost of where she was. She did that anime-girl thing and leapt to me, but she vanished before any form of hug was given.

I would hold on longer, try not to get hurt as bad. For my friends. For her.

I cried out again as I felt a stab to my spleen, blood dribbling from my mouth. Sad thing is, I don't think they'll clean out the cell.