The man screamed. This masked madman had pulled him into an alley and asked him about his gang, when he refused to talk the man bound him in a rope made of something that looked like fire, and pulled him into a nearby house. At first there were beatings, spattered with questions asking him what he knew, where the base was, what he knew about the leader of the gang. That was bearable. Even when they broke his rib with a punch, it was still bearable.
Then the masked demon began on his hands. He was a thief, and his hands were his life, they were what put bread on the table, paid for his home, and supported his family. The demon took his left hand, stretching it out, and used that strange fire rope to lock his fingers in place. The man went wild. He did not know what this short, masked monster intended to do, but it scared him. He swore, begged, cursed and cried, but it was to no avail.
“Tell me what I need to know then,” the demon had said. “Tell me how to get into the headquarters of the Arrows and you keep your fingers.”
Tears fell down the face of the man. Why me? He thought. His captor was incredibly brutal, not once during his time imprisoned had the pain let up. Even if it was just a little, there was pain. The ropes were too tight, the chair he was tied to was jagged and full of splinters, even the air he was breathing was full of smog and made his throat sore. The place was hell.
“I'll tell you,” he said. “Please, just let me go afterwards. I have a family.”
The masked man tilted his head to the side and said, “Do you now?” There was something profoundly unsettling about the way he said the words that made the captured man want to swallow his words. “Alright. If you tell me where the entrance is, I will end this. If you lie, however, I will cut off the fingers of your left hand up to the first knuckle. Then you will answer me again. If you lie to me a second time, I will cut off up to the second knuckle. We will keep going until you are out of fingers on your left hand, and then move on to your right one. If you haven't died after that, then we can just start on your arms.”
The man shrank back in fright, as much as the rope would let him. He was in a real bind. If he told his torturer and something bad happened to the Arrows, then he was a dead man walking, but if he did not tell, then he had no doubt in his mind that the demon would do as he said. He wondered if, by sending the demon to a trapped entrance, he would be able to warn the members of the gang that someone was coming. In that case, even if he lost the tips of his fingers, he would be safe.
“I bet you are weighing up the choice of losing your fingers to get me into a trap aren't you?” The masked man said, interrupting his train of thought. “That would work, if it was anyone but me. Look, there's no point in being brave. We both know that you're going to break when I get all the way through your left hand, one way or the other. Just tell me, and I'll end this.”
“You'll let me go if I tell you?” He replied.
“I'll end this, yes.”
He broke. In tears, he blurted out every entrance to the Arrow’s nest that he knew. It was terrifying, but he knew that once he was free, he could run and hide. He had two bolt-holes that no one knew about, so he was confident in the fact that he could go so deep underground that no one would find him for months.
The demon nodded and then said “I'm glad you didn't lie to me. I'll end this now.” There was a tightening sensation around his neck and then a hot, sharp pain as he fell over. He saw a headless body tied to a chair and wondered Who is that? as his sight and mind faded into darkness.
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