TASK #3 VILLAIN SAYS

Odette realised that it was her turn again, but she sat put until she heard Cale's voice. She knew she'd have to do whatever she was told.. for his sake. "I'm fine," she said in a weak voice and started to rise from the floor. Slowly she walked towards the table.
She cracked open the egg and noticed it wasn't your ordinary egg. She remembered their dad bringing home something like it a long time ago, but back then she had refused to even try it. She felt her stomach. She still felt sick, but she felt like it was better to get it down as quickly as possible. She ate it the same way she remembered her dad doing it. It didn't taste as bad as she had thought, kinda like chicken broth. But she left the beak. Breaking it down into smaller pieces she finally got the courage to get that down too.

Korso laughed at how miserable they already seemed to be. Specially the women, they were always the ones to break first. Sure, their mental state always seemed stronger than the men's, but when confronted with physical torture they just couldn't handle it.
"Okay, ready for the hard part?" he asked, smiling smugly at the monitor. "V47917," he said loudly. "I want your partner to pick up that knife over there and carve something into your upper arm. Make the word 'SLUT'," he laughed. In all honesty it was an easy task compared to the ones that were to follow in this final round. "I'd say not to worry. I already sterilized it. That was, before your dear partner over there got frogblood all over the blade." He laughed even more at the brunette man's face as he came to the realization of what he had done.

Dimitri admired her courage, he would never dare to lay a hand on this man. He seemed to have such a great deal of power over them, holding their lives in his hand. He wouldn't want to anger a man like that.
"Just try to stay ca-" he said before the speakers broke him off. He was speechless at what the man wanted him to do to Chel, but his face went even paler as he realized what he had done. He looked at the blade full of blood and back to Chel. "I-I-I- I didn't- I'm so so-" he managed to stutter before he just shut up. Nothing he said would help her now. He just waited for her reaction before he dared stand up to get the knife.

Chel listened to the voice, her rage only growing when she realized what had to happen. "Just do it." she told Dimitri, "I told you before: I can take it." Of course, the frog blood would present some problem. Might get infected or something. But... there was no way around it. She laid a hand on his shoulder, trying to reassure him or something. "You can do it." He had to.

He nodded at her, glad she wasn't mad at him for the blood.
He got up and took the knife. He'd never hurt anyone, but if he didn't do this he'd die. Anyone would do the same. If they'd rather die than have their partners suffer they'd have killed themselves off at the beginning of the challenge. Anyone who looked at him badly now was a hypocrit. Or so he made himself think.
He tried fevorishly to wipe the blood on his prisonersuit, but the cold room had dried the blood rather fast, and it was impossible to get most of it off. He cursed himself for being so stupid. He should've known the knife would be used later on for something like this.
"At least it's a short word," he tried to reassure her as he croached down next to Chel, taking her left arm in his hand. It had sounded stupid he realized and scorched himself. He laid the blade on her skin carefully so she could get used to the cold feeling of it.

"Lucky me." Chel mumbled, giving him a wry smile. Well, he did have a point (no pun intended). The cold steel on her arm gave her goosebumps, and she could feel the knife was rather sharp, which meant it would be easier for him to carve. Good, less trouble then. She took a deep breath, trying to brace herself for the pain that was coming, trying to find a happy place like she'd done a lifetime ago. She just had to imagine having a knife of her own against Korso's neck, and pressing it in deeper and deeper.... yeah. Now she was in a good place.

"Do it." she told Dimitri, closing her eyes.

He did as he was bid, driving the knife into her skin as he started carving the S. The blood started dripping instantly, and it made him a bit sick to see just how much it bled. It didn't stop him though, he had to continue.
He tried carving smooth, knowing she'd have to live with the scars from this forever, but it just came out jagged and bad. As if a six-year-old had written it with his left hand. The L was a bit easier, but the U again didn't look so good. He had even written it a bit big, so the T became considerably smaller than the rest of the letters. Great, just another thing I can't do right.
When it was done he used the sleeve of his jumpsuit to wipe away the blood, but it was of no use, it just pumped out more blood. He supposed it would keep bleeding for a while. At least he hadn't cut her anywhere vital.
"Done," he assured her and smiled weakly up at her pained face before he threw the knife away, letting it slide against the floor over to the corner where it came from. He didn't want to look at it anymore.

Chel balled her fist as the knife first dug into her flesh, her nails digging into her palm. She had to focus on something, anything, other than the pain. She alternated between fantasies about killing every fucking guard in this prison and memories of David. Once or twice she opened her eyes to see how much he had to go, but quickly shut them again.
When he spoke up, she opened her eyes again and looked down at his handiwork. Why had Korso chosen this label? Did he think it was original, going to bother her? What did she care what he, or others, thought about her in that respect? Geez. If he was going to have something carved on her, why couldn't it be something a little wittier?
She tugged her sleeve over the wound and pressed down on it, trying to ignore the added pain. She couldn't just let it pour out though.

"Are you okay?" he asked worried, seeing her pained expressions. Of course she wasn't, he was stupid for even asking. Would anyone be okay after what she'd been through, and what they were facing in this room? Some times he wished he could think before he spoke.
"Try to keep pressure on it." That was stupid too. She already was. Idiot.

"Don't worry. I've been through this before." she reassured him. Felt odd to be doing that, considering she was the one bleeding out. Whatever. She tried to smile, but all that came to her was something more like a grimace. Still fucking hurt, but would probably hurt worse if it wasn't cold enough in the room to numb it slightly. Kind of ironic, really. What was intended to cause discomfort was actually helping her.

The speakers turned on once again, the moment the brunette man dropped the knife. Korso wanted to get on to the real fun.
"A66129," he said once again, starting to learn her number by heart, without having to look down on his files every time he called someone. He supposed that meant he had spoken her name a few times, which again meant he probably had tortured her more than the rest. Oops.
"Do you see the club?" he asked gently, knowing she was smart enough to understand. "Why don't you get someone to hit you with it. Let's say, five times, shall we. Who knows, might even knock some warmth into you," he said comforting her sarcastically. It might actually leave a burning pain that would in some ways warm her up, but he doubted she was any happier because of it.
"Now, I want to see blood, or it does not count," he smiled and turned the speakers off again, leaning back in his chair once again to enjoy the show that was to come.

(OOC: geez D: Korso must love Meg >.> <.< *cough* sarcasm *cough*)

Meg sighed as she heard her number being called. This man really enjoyed torturing her didn't he. She stood up, walking over to the club and picking it up. "Anyone?" she said sarcastically with a hint of annoyance. He was definitely going to get it if she ever saw him in person. Her eyes scanned the room, looking for any takers. She doubted Cillian would volunteer, but you never know. It had to be done...to save both of their lives.

Dimitri stared at the naked woman, scared. He had just been made to harm one girl, please don't make him hurt another. She looked around, but he hoped her partner would step up to the task. It had to be done, he knew that, but unless everyone else backed down, he couldn't make himself do it.
He looked at her as if to say he was sorry, but harming others for no reason wasn't something he was good at, and he was sick to his stomach after what he'd just done to Chel. Or maybe that was just the frog...

It was against him. This whole idea. Moving up though he moved towards Megara. He took hold of the club. With allot of hesitation. But he doubted anyone else would do it. And if so they might not even hold in at all. "I'm sorry." It was to save them both. Let's think that. Cillian moved back a bit. Holding the club in both hands. It was to save her..

He sighed. Clenching his teeth. He still held the club. Not making any movement. Okay. Take a deep breath. As he moved the club towards her. he hit her lower leg. Not with full strength but sure to feel pain..a bit..

"It's fine. Don't worry about hurting me." She smiled and braced herself for the first hits. As the club came in contact with her leg, she fell to her knees, holding in any sounds of pain. That's all he wanted. To hear her pain. But she refused to give him that satisfaction. She had to remain strong. He would not break her. She refused.

Cillian watched her fall. It did not feel good. He should not hit her. Cillian tried to protect her..He already felt like giving up. Even if she had told him not to worry. Maybe the blonde male could.. He removed that thought as soon as it came. He hit her against her arm. Stopping again. As much as he tried to hide it. He couldn't ignore the breaking point he was almost reaching. As his hand slowly lowered the club. Come on... cillian raised the club again. Two hits.. Three to go.. Okay. "Meg?" He asked. Was she sure his life was worth getting beaten like this?

Cale watched as the older man hit his partner. He wasn't sure if he could do something like that to Odette just to save his own life, but by the looks of it he'd have to find out sooner or later.
The man didn't look like he could take hurting her much longer and if he didn't finish, if he didn't draw blood then he would die. And that wasn't something he felt like watching.

'You're not the only one that can do this you know,' Cale called out from his position next to Odette, 'if you don't think you can do it then..' he looked around the room but no one else seemed to jump at the chance of helping a stranger, 'I'm sure he wouldn't mind someone taking over, as long as the job gets done,' he said eventually, looking towards the speakers, wondering if his last words were true.

Chel watched the brunette's beating, keeping pressure on her arm. If it weren't for that, she would've offered to do it instead. Debonair looked dangerously close to breaking. He must've cared for the girl somewhat. If so, that only made things worse.
She looked over at the younger blonde man, genuinely surprised at his suggestion. But she doubted it. Having someone beat another that they seemed to care for, even a little bit, would definitely provide some kicks for this sick fucker. But still, she hoped.

Meg bit her lip, keeping in the sounds of pain. "Finish. Only three more..I can handle it." She didn't look up at him, but kept her eyes straight to the ground. She had no tears and barely showed any pain on her face. In her life she had experienced pain much worse, and she wouldn't let this bring her down. It was to save Cillian. Korso would love to see her break, but he wasn't going to get that from her. Ever. A cut had already appeared on her arm, drips of blood spilling out onto the floor. It wasn't that much, and surely it wouldn't satisfy Korso. But by the time the five hits had been given, it would be enough.

Cillian sighed deeply. When he had entered the prison he had said to himself. That he would not let himself care for another. Hell if he had to beat up Gaston he would probably have hit him more than five times. But hitting her.. When the blonde male spoke he clenched his teeth. He had taken the club so others couldn't hurt her. Was it that obvious he had troubles with this? No he would not give the blond the club. Cillian would not give up that easily. Even if he wanted to give up. He hit Megara again. And again. Okay..one more to go. Cillian hesitated. But gave the final blow. Five..Cillian threw the club asside. Looking at Megara as she was bleeding. He went on his knees aswell gently taking her in his arms. Statisfied now Korso? Sick bastard.

Meg sighed in relief when it was all over. She felt Cillian's arms around her. He must have felt horrible. Her hands cupped his face as she looked into his eyes, smiling softly. "Thank you."

Cillian was trying calm himself down. He would snap Korso's neck as soon as he would get the opportunity. Looking back into her eyes. ''What for?'' He asked as he leaned his forehead against hers. ''Are you okay?'' Cillian sighed. A stupid question now. Ofcourse she wasn't okay. But he meant mentally.

She forced a more reassuring smile. "I'm fine. Dont worry about me." Her eyes closed as their foreheads rested together. Hopefully he would calm down soon.

"I guess that leaves.. let's see..." he said and looked through the files for her prisoner number.
"R78103," he said smugly. "You look like you're one to enjoy whips." He hinted, of course to the only whip in the room, the devastating, flesh-ripping cat o' nine tails whip. It was his favorite, mostly because it was the cruelest whip he could think of. It made it look like the previous girl had gotten off easy. If this didn't make her scream, it meant it had killed her. No way she could keep in such great amounts of pain.
"See if you can get someone to whip you with it, let's say... ten times." Her back would be raw to the extent where it was one huge fleshwound after this was done. He sat back, satisfied with his decision to add it to the list of tools for this game.

Odette had to look away from Meg's beating. It was so terrible. Too terrible to watch.

This time Odette faintly recognized her number. Or at least she thought it was hers and no one else seemed to react. After what she had just seen, she was really scared of what would happen to her. She slowly walked over to the table and looked at a whip. She took it in her hand and turned around. Maybe it would have been better to get a girl to do this, but she didn't know Chel, and Meg wasn't capable of doing anything in her condition. So instead she looked at Cale. If he was just gentle then maybe.. but the spikes didn't look like they'd go easy on her body.