285. Part XIII: To gather moon dust

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Captain Santiago was naked and tied to a chair with his hands bound behind to where he sat, and his ankles together restrained by chains. His head was shaved completely. His facial hairs had grown making him looked more fragile and ill. His once brawny physique was gone as his captors made him walked leisurely to the path of starvation which made him malnourished.

The captain's lips that were once had a shade of pink were now as dry as the desert—blistered and cracked, the same condition was his skin all over his body. His shaved head had wound holes, his body was covered in scars and burns as well as dried blood, gooey and other unidentifiable things that stuck on his skin. His nipples were badly burnt as a sign of being electrocuted, his fingernails and toenails removed and disregarded on the floor as well as some of his teeth.

The poor captain had been held against his will in that cold, dark, grimy and malodorous basement for several weeks enduring every minute of hellish nightmare. However, even his tormentors had broken his physical body, never once he let them break his spirit. And, so he continued to fight and resist the temptation to give his captor the satisfaction of taking the one thing he had left—his humanity. In midst of his suffering, he never hated the people who made him suffer.

He slowly lifted his head and looked at the only window in the basement. Actually, it was not much of a window it was like a door mailbox slot but slightly wider. His breathing was short and enfeebled as tears began flow from his eyes. He yearned to see his wife and two sons one last time, but he knew that he could not.

"I love you my wife." He said weakly. "Forgive me my sons for I will not see you both become good men. I love you both."

Those were his last words before he was forever freed from his sufferings.

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