⚠️ Content Warning ⚠️
This chapter will contain graphic torture, gore, and references to rape.
If you prefer not to read this chapter, you can safely skip it. The main story will continue in Chapter 38 without missing any important plot developments.
<3rd Person Pov>
Randall stumbled, feet barely finding ground. His muffled protests trailed behind him, but neither of them slowed. The heavy door creaked open, and the three disappeared inside.
Then came the sound of the latch snapping shut.
Itachi started tying Randall's arms with a metal chain, locking him tight to the nearby wall so he couldn't move inside the cramped shed.
Daryl's voice cut through the silence.
"What's up with this?"
Itachi just kept tightening the chain.
"He knows about Maggie. We need to find out everything about his group."
A serious glint passed through Daryl's eyes as he turned, his gaze landing coldly on Randall.
Once Randall was bound, Itachi stripped away the bag covering Randall's head, tugged off the headphones, then ripped the tape from his mouth in one sharp pull.
Randall sucked in a shaky breath and immediately started babbling.
"Wait—wait! Please, I haven't said anything about Maggie to anyone!"
Daryl's boot slammed down hard on his ankle. Randall screamed, the sound echoing raw and animal-like through the shed.
Daryl leaned closer, his tone cold as ice.
"Listen here, kid. We talk, you shut up and answer, nothin' else."
Randall gasped and tried again, his words spilling out through clenched teeth.
"I barely knew those guys—"
Randall's words were cut short as Itachi's grip locked around his leg. Fingers dug into the joint. And in one sharp twist, the knee snapped sideways. Randall howled, thrashing, but Itachi didn't let go.
Randall shrieked, thrashing helplessly against the chain. He bit down hard on his lip to keep from crying, the copper taste of blood filling his mouth.
Itachi held the ruined leg still with one arm so the knee couldn't snap back into place. His voice stayed calm and detached.
"I believe we said we ask the questions, and you answer. No more, no less."
Randall's chest heaved. Sweat poured down his face as he nodded frantically, eyes wide and wet.
Itachi's expression softened into a kind smile, kind in a way that didn't belong here, kind in a way that made the air in Randall's lungs turn ice cold.
"And if you want the pain to stop, you better answer truthfully. Because if we find even a single thing that doesn't match…" He leaned closer, smile never wavering. "…we will repeat these little sessions as many times as we need to."
Randall stayed silent, too shocked to speak.
So Itachi's hand pressed against the disjointed knee and started pushing it further out. A muffled crunch ripped through the shed.
Randall's scream tore out of him like something primal, his voice breaking, echoing so loud it bounced back from the walls. It sounded raw, like he was being ripped apart from the inside.
Through gritted teeth he finally gasped out, "I got it… I understand…"
Itachi released his grip, and Randall collapsed against the chains, sucking in ragged, shallow breaths.
Daryl leaned in.
"How many of you are there?"
Randall panted, chest heaving.
"I don't—"
Before he could finish, Daryl's thumb jammed hard into the half-healed wound on his leg. Flesh split, nerves screamed. Randall's howl exploded from his throat, wet and broken.
"How many?" Daryl snarled, pressing harder.
"Thirty! Thirty men!" Randall shrieked, the words tumbling out between sobs.
Daryl stood back up, face a mask of disgust.
"Where?"
Randall shook his head frantically, eyes wide, spit flying with every desperate word.
"I don't know! I swear! We were never anyplace more than a night!"
Daryl pressed again.
"Scouting? Planning on staying local?"
"I— I don't know!" Randall wailed. "They— they left me behind!"
Itachi and Daryl exchanged a glance. They moved as one. The chains came undone, only to be retied higher up. Randall's arms were stretched until he dangled from the wall, his toes scraping uselessly against the floorboards. His body swung slightly, blood dripping down his leg in uneven trails.
Itachi's voice came in cold and final.
"We tried to be nice."
He planted one foot firmly against Randall's knee, locking it in place. Daryl gripped the dangling ankle. Daryl began to pull slowly, the leg stretching unnaturally as bone and tendon strained. Randall's screams ripped from him in jagged waves, every pitch higher than the last, until his voice cracked into an animal squeal.
"What kind of weapons?" Itachi asked, as if Randall's agony was nothing more than background noise.
"They have weapons!" Randall cried, choking on his own breath. "Heavy stuff, automatics!"
Before he could stammer more, Itachi leaned forward, forcing the knee tighter while Daryl wrenched upward on the ankle with brutal force.
There was a sharp, sickening crack. The leg bent wrong, grotesquely wrong, nearly folding back to brush Itachi's shoulder.
Randall's scream was no longer human. It tore his throat raw, spraying spit, blood, and sobs into the air. His bladder gave way, hot wetness running down his pants, puddling beneath him as humiliation mixed with horror.
Daryl stared at him with open disgust, the stench of piss and blood thick in the air. Even Itachi stepped back a pace, the sound of Randall's sobbing rattling against the walls.
Daryl leaned in just enough for Randall to see the hate burning in his eyes. "Too damn slow," Daryl growled. "Next time you drag it out…" He jabbed a finger towards Randall's crotch. "…I'll break somethin' else."
Randall whimpered, shaking his head desperately, the chain rattling with every twitch.
Randall's head slumped forward, his body sagging against the chains until the rattling quieted. He'd passed out, slipping mercifully away from the pain.
Itachi stepped closer. From his pouch, he drew a single senbon. With surgical precision, he drove it into the tender flesh just beneath Randall's collarbone, angled to graze the bundle of nerves there.
Randall jerked awake with a strangled gasp, his whole body seizing. His eyes flew open wide and wild, drool spilling from the corner of his mouth as a fresh scream tore free.
Itachi just continued watching him calmly.
"You don't get to sleep yet."
Daryl dragged the knife slowly across Randall's chest, just letting the steel kiss the skin.
"What d'you do when you find other people out there?" he asked.
"Survivors. Families. Women. You let 'em walk? Or you got other plans for 'em?"
Randall, trembling, could barely force words past the pain. His voice cracked, every syllable dragged through his throat like glass.
"We go out… scavenge—just the men," he gasped. "One night, we… we found this little campsite. A man and his two daughters—teenagers, you know? Real young. Real cute."
Daryl's knife dug deeper into his skin, a bead of blood sliding down his chest.
"Their daddy had to watch while these guys— they—" Randall's words splintered into a choked sob. "While they raped them, and they didn't even kill him afterwards. They just… they just made him watch as his daughters were raped by twelve men— They just—just— " His teeth clattered against each other as he stammered. "Just left him there."
He shook violently, tears streaking down his dirt-caked face. "No, but—but—but I didn't touch those girls. No, I swear I didn't! Please… please, you gotta believe me, man. I'm not like that. I ain't like that!"
Daryl pressed the knife harder against his chest, the edge biting into skin. Randall cried out, his voice ragged with pain.
"How young?" Daryl growled.
Randall thrashed, tears streaming down his face as he screamed.
"I don't know! Twelve or thirteen!"
Before Randall could speak another word, Itachi's hand shot forward. His fingers clamped down across Randall's face with crushing force.
At first, it was pressure, unbearable, suffocating, then it became something worse. His fingers dug deeper, the nails and bone pressing past skin, sinking into soft flesh. Blood gushed hot down Randall's cheeks, dripping over his lips, choking him with it.
He screamed, but the sound broke into a gurgle. His jaw cracked under the pressure, sharp pops echoing in his skull as the bones strained.
And then he saw them.
Those eyes.
Red. Burning. A storm of fire locked inside a gaze too cold to belong to the living. They glowed in the dark like coals from Hell's furnace, each second searing deeper into Randall's mind, a demon, a reaper come to carve out his soul and brand him with every miserable moment before death.
Randall writhed, choking on his own blood and spit, his body thrashing against the chains, but it didn't matter. He couldn't look away. Those eyes swallowed him, engraved into his brain like a curse, a vision of endless fire and rage.
Itachi leaned in; his voice wasn't calm anymore, it shook with rage, each word like a growl from something inhuman.
"I will let you live just so you could spend every hour pleading for an end that won't come."
For the next hour, the shed became a chamber of screams. Randall's voice shredded itself to pieces, breaking down into hoarse sobs before clawing back into shrieks whenever a bone snapped or a tooth was torn free. He begged for mercy, for help, for some god to tear him out of this place. But no one came, only more pain.
Bones cracked one by one. Fingers were pierced with wooden senbon and then broken, leaving splinters jutting through swollen flesh. Teeth were ripped loose, blood spraying as every cry grew weaker, more broken, more desperate. His throat burned raw until every sound came out as a rasp.
At times, the pain blurred into black, his head slumping forward, only for fire to jolt him awake again, a senbon stabbing into his nerves, a fist snapping him back into the nightmare. His own screams began to echo back wrong, warped and distorted, until he swore he heard other voices tangled in them. Higher-pitched. Younger. The phantom cries of the daughters he had spoken of, shrieking in agony alongside him. The sound clawed at his skull, drilling deeper with every breath.
The walls shook with his cries, but Itachi and Daryl didn't stop. They pressed, broke, and tore until what dangled from the chains was no longer a man at all, just mangled, bloodied flesh.
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🧪 Author's Note:
This was my first time writing something even remotely close to this, so I hope you all enjoyed it 😅. Make sure to drop a comment and let me know what you thought about the chapter. Did it work? Was it too much, not enough? I'd love to hear your feedback.
Thanks again for reading 🖤