Torture: A Short Story

Every man had gone through a different method of torture. One bloody man is strapped onto a chair with an eyeball hanging out of his skull. One man is strapped to a table with all his legs cut off. Another is shackled to the wall with his balls cut off. All of these men seem to have been left to die bleeding in one way or another. They must've been that close to dying because they didn't seem to react to the yelling further down and some of them were even twitching oddly. It wasn't until we were nearing the last cell that I recognized the yelling as Jericho's. I hadn't noticed because of all the horrors on the way. I look over my shoulder at Garett. He had long given up on restraining me, but he looks somewhat weary about seeing Desmond.
"STOP! …show more content…
Anytime Desmond and I have been in bed together, it's either been at my apartment bed or my luxurious bed here. I remember wondering if he didn't want me to be in his room because it might be too personal, but that wasn't the reason at all. His room had a balcony, but the glass doors to it were covered by heavy black curtains. All his windows are the same way, so the room had a dim theme to it. The only furniture in his room are the bed and cabinet for clothes. My room even had couches around the room that I never really used. The only positive thing about his room was probably that it was clean. No clothes on the floor, bed made, and the top of his cabinet was completely clear. I even had a few brushes or clothes laying around on mine. I think it's safe to say that he didn't want me here because it just didn't feel warm or welcoming.
He walks over to the bed sits down, elbows on his knees and face downcast. I sit down beside him and stare. I want to touch him and see his face, but his dark waves block my vision. He's still not acting like himself. I place a hand on his muscular shoulder, hoping to both draw out and deliver some much needed warmth from just that