FRAGMENTED - Fragment 9, Part 3
-Wednesday, January 17th 2007
- 12:17 pm
“Now, where shall we play today?” The man leered, smirking at the bowed youth fidgeting on his knees before him. He could not quite keep the grin from his face.
Eien had beaten the soles of the boys’ feet raw, not quite vicious enough to tear skin too substantially of course, but the punishment had not been gentle. No, not in the least. The soles of the feet have a very high concentration of nerve endings after all, which make it an extremely painful torture. It had been quite prevalent in the past, if I recall correctly. Bastinado, I think it was called. Foot-whipping. Clever little thing really. Eien mused, fingering the mouth piece of his signature mask. Even if without the presence of blood, there would be severe bruising and certainly internal tissue, nerve, or bone damage, which, in this instance, to his utmost joy, kept the boy firmly, and rightfully, at least in his eyes, where he belonged; on his hands and knees like a animal. Ah yes, so wonderful. Really, he should have done this from the start. It was just too delicious, watching that little brat crawl his way across the floor at his every beck and call; stubbornly grasping at the strands of his shattering pride. How much longer could the boy hold on, he wondered.
Somehow, Eien did not think it would be too long before the brat bowed willingly beneath his feet, and that realization sent a giddy spike of excitement through his belly.
Why he hadn’t thought of doing this sooner was beyond him.
Turning from his musings to the current matter at hand, the Japanese man circled the complacent wretch with a throaty purr. “Hmm? Your back perhaps? It did so love the feel of that whip didn’t it?” The madman paused in his stalking, idly fingering a lock of the singer’s sable strands.
The room fell momentarily, uncomfortably quiet.
Jaejoong glanced up curiously through soiled bangs, swallowing as he realized quite quickly that the man wanted an answer. Fighting down a growl he bit his lip and gave the expected answer.
“Yes...”
Eien seemed pleased, despite the boys’ obvious physical revulsion. The Japanese man none to gently pat the singers’ head, muttering a quick, “Good boy,” as he strode passed; as if addressing a dog.
The vocalist had to bite his tongue hard to keep from retorting to that belittling remark. He could not quite keep the glare from his eyes however.
“How about an arm this time? Or perhaps your chest? I dare say it must seem awfully neglected.” Eien continued without preamble, sauntering over to a tall medical table, fingering one of the many menacingly gleaming needles resting atop the stainless steel surface. There had to be at least thirty of them. And no matter how much Jaejoong had flirted with piercings in the past, he was certainly filled to the brim with trepidation at the possibility of that many tubes of cruel metal stabbing ruthlessly through his body. Averting his eyes, the singer swallowed and grasped tightly to his resolve.
No. He would not falter. He could not.
The squeak of boots on stone drew his attention “I know, here.” Smirking, Eien lowered into a crouch, running the point of the sharp object down the roughened fabric of Jaejoong’s pants purposefully pricking into his right thigh a little too harshly. “But which to choose? Left or right?”
Jaejoong remained steadfastly silent, itching to pull away but knowing he shouldn’t.
“Personally, I think I’d like a whack at the right one. See what other sort of damage can be done.” There was an entirely too gleeful edge to his voice as he spoke, running the abrasively thick needle down the boys leg, to poke meaningfully against a hidden knee.
It took all of Jaejoong’s restraint not to shrink back from that touch. His instincts to protect the previously wounded joint were still strong within him.
“However,” The Japanese ringleader stated firmly, standing without warning and leered down at the shorter figure pressing the fine point to the vocalists abused cheek as he met those milky dull eyes. “I am feeling generous today. So,” he quickly withdrew a coin from his pocket and held it aloft. “Head’s or tails?” he barked at the boy, and without waiting for a reply sent the little round flipping furiously into the air. Jaejoong physically flinched as a sharp twinkle of gray flashed before his eyes unannounced. To him, the coin was blurred beyond recognition, appearing as little more then a dancing streak of silver in his damaged vision.
Stumbling over his words he shakily eked out, “tails,” a fraction of a second before the coin was snatched and slapped against a waiting wrist.
For an excruciating moment, Jaejoong waited; tiny beads of perspiration prickling his upper lip, his fingers twisting nervously against one another. Then came a quiet snort and the sound of skin shoving inside fabric as the coin was replaced in a loose pocket. “Well, it seems it’s your lucky day little one. Choose. Left or right?” The man demanded more then asked, arms crossed as he stepped back eyeing the hesitant youth.
“…Left.” The battered singer breathed softly. It was more a relieved exhale then a reply.
“Of course.” Eien drawled sarcastically. How predictable. Shaking his head, he dropped the needle back to the metal table with a high pitched clatter, and motioned to the boys’ slacks.
“Strip.” He ordered simply.
Large, obviously terrified eyes rose to meet him from beneath a heavy curtain of ebony, unseeing yet wide and expressive enough to drown anyone dumb enough to glance too deeply. Irritated by the hesitation, Eien sighed in warning. “Take off your pants, now. Do not make me repeat myself boy.”
Jaejoong shifted uncomfortably, his one good hand fisted almost protectively against stiff jeans. “O… On camera?” he whispered softly, a warm rose tinge painting his cheeks that for once had nothing to do with the constant blows assaulting his face. Eien eyed the boy queerly before, unexpectedly, the Japanese man barked out a quick string of laughter.
Crouching and reaching forward, he brutishly grabbed the waist of the Korean’s slacks and yanked, nearly snapped the buttons clean off; jerking him onto his knees with the motion. Jaejoong rocked, catching himself with a gasp and a palm to the ground before scurrying back onto his hind end and out of arms reach. Grasping the hem of his sweater, the singer tugged it down self-consciously, not quite able to stem the flow of terror rising from his toes swiftly into his throat, leaving him hoarse and shaken.
“What, you can’t possibly be shy?!” The madman bellowed with a rather infuriating chuckle; honestly amused by the boys reaction despite the overt defiance. Standing, Eien crossed his arms, staring down the dark beak like nose of his mask at the frightened young man. “Please, the whole of Asia has probably seen more of that filthy little body of yours then your own mother. Now, do it.” He growled, a low earnest warning hedging his tone.
The comment stung, even though Jaejoong knew it was untrue. He wasn’t some floozy. He never had been. He didn’t enjoy parading around with pieces of his body on display for others. In truth he was a very shy person, especially when it came to his legs. His previous injury only seemed to exacerbate the problem in fact. Yet even with that knowledge, it was hard to fight the shame the madman’s words drove into his chest like a spike.
The long grueling days of captivity and endless torture seemed to be playing rather wicked games with his self esteem. But at the moment, he knew he couldn’t afford to dwell on it. This was the price he had to pay for his dongsaengs safety. And he would pay it, as promised.
No matter what.
The ebony haired young man swallowed hard, cheeks brightly glowing despite his best efforts and nodded his head. Hunching forward in shame, he carefully and painstakingly untangled the now uselessly dangling buttons one handedly, dropping them to the floor with a chorus of dull pings. As he reached for the zipper of his dark jeans, he could not keep from hesitating; his limbs freezing in embarrassment. Lord, could this get anymore degrading?... Well… that’s a rather stupid question to ask isn’t it? A sharply cleared throat was all it took to hurry him along, and soon vocalist’s slacks were pooled obscenely about his bare feet; hands self consciously tucked over of his barely concealed groin.
Jaejoong sat upon the concrete, trembling slightly in nothing but his long tightly fitting sweater and boxer briefs. Min-Soo, who often treated his injuries before filming, had been extra careful to remove as much of the swathing bandages dotting his frame as possible that morning. Now he knew why. Without the cover they provided, the singer’s every hurt lay on display in a grotesque road map of pain and pale skin.
Eien wanted to laugh at the rather ridiculous spectacle. The boy was literally flesh and bone, bruises and scrapes, which did nothing but accentuate the tremor he tried oh so desperately to hide.
Pathetic.
“Come here.” The ring leader ordered, stepping aside as that hateful metal table was wheeled next to the medical tray. The abusive straps and cuffs dotting its surface had already been adjusted for the current task. Obediently, head bowed in what appeared to be self loathing, Jaejoong came at the call, though not quite how Eien had expected. The mad man’s eyes widened in honest surprise, before narrowing sharply with gut churning, bone chilling fury.
Somehow, Somehow the brat managed to struggle up onto his feet, teetering precariously as he balanced upon cold toes, to slowly walk step after excruciating, mocking step towards the metal table.
One glance into those eerie orbs alight with such righteous rage made all the agony more then worth it. Jaejoong couldn’t help but smirk ever so slightly in triumph.
A hand tapped the tables’ surface with a growl, and without further prompting the vocalist carefully crawled atop it, stretching out the chosen limb to be lashed cruelly in place. Wounded hand cradled protectively in his lap, the singer concentrated on keeping his breathing even; his form painfully rigged as rough, calloused fingers yanked and jerked, strapping his bare leg down with excessive force.
Mean digits grasped the youths down turned chin, grip firm and cold as his head was raised. Eien stared hard into chalky eyes and he sneered angrily.
“We need to squash that defiant pride of yours boy, or your home will be getting a new paint job.” He warned, tossing the youths head aside, straightening with practiced poise. Jaejoong’s only reply was a simple deepening of the incline of his head, and Eien knew it to be the boys silent acquiesce.
Snorting, he took a step back, eyeing the petite figure huddled unobtrusively in the corner. Nodding to the now restrained boy, he ordered the man forward.
Min-Soo breathed, hesitating a moment before quietly shuffling into view. Unlike the other brutes encircling the room, the doctor wore no mask to hide his features, his only aid to anonymity being the angle at which he stood. Back aimed to the camera, he slid into the proffered seat positioned next to Jaejoong’s bare thigh. The medical tray of needles pushed roughly against him with a clang. “Get started.” Eien growled, arms folded as he moved a safe step back to observe. The physician nodded and extracted a handful of alcohol wipes from his coat pocket.
Without speaking his fingers moved, tearing into the foil lined packages and methodically swabbed the youths’ thigh. Glancing up into that blank gaze, he spoke. “I need you to listen to me.” He demanded more then asked, yet his tone was strangely detached. Odder still, the doctor had been allowed to speak in Korean. Jaejoong blinked and focused his attention belatedly on the physician, a curious expression crossing his features.
“You will listen carefully and watch me as best as you can. I’ve been ordered to thread the first needle only, then, you will have to complete the rest on your own.” Min Soo explained in that same bland tone. An odd tickle scurried along the boy’s flesh.
“What?... But, I thought..” Jaejoong muttered softly, his accent thicker as he broke into the long disused dialect. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized no blow for disobedience came and he was surprised. Likewise however, he was surprised he was even listening to this man. Task or not, he still distrusted him.
Min-Soo shrugged, slipping on a pair of latex gloves before grasping the first long needle. “An un-clarified stipulation to this task. I am only to show you the proper procedure, to keep you from severely injuring yourself. You are to be the one to actually perform the deed.” The older Korean spoke, reaching for the boys’ bare leg, turning the metal pin in his hand to find the best angle with which to approach the first puncture. Jaejoong swallowed softly, a frown marring his obscured brow as trepidation settled like a stone in the pit of his stomach.
Could he really do it? Could he honestly inflict that kind of pain.. on himself? It was one thing to sit back and watch someone else stick you like an over grown pin cushion. But.. to rip into your own flesh?... Somehow, despite his resolve, he didn’t think he had the guts to go through with it.
“Why didn’t he say anything before?” He queried softly, trying to push away the sudden swell of fear licking at his insides.
Min-Soo’s expression soured strangely, brusquely feeling his way down the boy’s leg for the best place to start. The pinching and prodding hurt, but the singer did not pull away. He could not have even had he wanted to. “Because, this entire ridiculous spectacle is rigged. Eien is bent on ensuring you loose and he will use every underhanded means to achieve it. Or are you too stupid to have figured that out? Honestly.” He snorted. “Didn’t you ever wonder why he suddenly decided to delay taping the return videos until after he’d seen your friends’ response?” The doctor spat, his gloved fingers finally coming to rest just above the soft swell of the youths’ kneecap; firmly pinching the area before spreading the skin, certain no veins were in danger of being nicked.
Despite himself, Jaejoong’s eyes widened and he felt a deep fire of anger bubble up his throat.
So he hadn’t imagined it then. That sick bastard really was twisting every possible angle of this game to his advantage. Not that he should have been surprised. The man was unhinged and set on destroying them anyway possible…Well, that just meant he’d have to try harder to undermine him, didn’t it?
Jaw setting stiffly, the vocalists’ blurred vision carefully shifted to watch the doctors’ ministrations. His uninjured hand silently slipped unnoticed over the side of the table.
An irritated fist shot out, cuffing the physician on the back of the head roughly, nearly sending the waiting needle prematurely into the vocalists’ skin. “Hurry it up!” The Japanese man hissed, glaring down at the tiny Korean through the menacing slits of his mask. Min-Soo nodded with a huff, lowering the ungodly thick pin to the boys’ leg.
“Alright. I’m only explaining this once. Hold the needle like this. Keep your grasp firm, but don’t apply too much pressure or you’ll force it too deep.” He explained, an edge to his voice that had been absent moments before. “Check the skin between insertions. Make sure there are no veins too close to the surface. You do that like this.” The man continued, pausing to show the boy how to feel out said life pumping vessels, knowing the singer couldn’t really locate them by sight anymore. “Then, take the tip here, and hold the skin taut, if you can.” He glanced at the vocalists’ broken fingers before lowering the needle, aligning it with Jaejoong’s flesh allowing the tip to gently prick against the epidermis.
“You have to keep as still as possible. If you jerk at the wrong moment these things can cause serious damage and I really don’t want to be patching you up anymore then I have to.” After a tiny, somewhat affronted nod from the younger Korean, Min-Soo dutifully turned back to the task. “I’m going to pass it through now.” He warned, awaiting another faint nod before, without further ado he swiftly forced the large needle through the boys’ leg. The pin passed seamlessly into the skin, dug for a good three inches before emerging again. The doctor withdrew, leaving the needle where it stuck. Jaejoong, despite himself, inhaled in surprise at the initial penetration. The physician did not seem to notice.
“Only force it just beneath the skin. As soon as it penetrates angle it up and back out. Make sure you don’t dig too deep, no matter what. If you puncture the Femoral Artery, well, that’s one way to end this game isn’t it? ” He mumbled with a queer look in his eyes and swiped the forming beads of blood from the youth’s skin with a fresh alcohol swab.
A rough hand grasped the doctors’ shoulder and quickly yanked him to his feet. “Took you long enough.” Eien sneered, gaze sharp as a nameless thug proceeded to drag the complacent physician away.
“Wait.” Jaejoong groped blindly after the short man, managing to snag his sleeve before he was pulled too far. He didn’t know what compelled him to ask, later he would probably blame cabin fever for the moment of stupidity, but right now, he just knew he couldn’t not ask. “Do.. you know my band mates answer?” The boy asked softly, protected by the comfortable cloak of Korean; a faint swell of hope stirring at the simple prospect of knowing. Min-Soo, strangely, hesitated a moment, not daring to glance at the Japanese man who was currently glaring curiously at him, then shook his head.
Without further warning the petite man was yanked back to his place at the outskirts of the room, leaving Jaejoong alone with the leering mad man. Redirecting his attention, Eien smirked behind the rough mesh of his mask and extracted a second needle, holding it mockingly before the vocalists’ face.
“Next.”
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TBC….
Authors note : I’m so very sorry for all the delays in getting this chapter posted. I’ve run through some very tough issues that have gotten in the way, including the loss of my computer including all of my written work. That also included almost all of the progress I had made on this story -_- I am still without a real computer. I usually only have my phone for internet and the occasional update on a really old, unsafe POS which is what I am using to post this at the moment. But any whoseawhatsit. I am still terribly sorry its taken sooooo long. And on top of that, I’m not entirely happy with this chapter -_- but then when am I ever? lol Can’t think well enough to figure out what all else to say other then sorry again for the delay and I hope, if any of you are still reading this, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you and again sorry. XD
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