Wasty Presents: Death Is Near You

The Torture

Not very gently he was pushed down the worn-out steps into the moist dungeon. He was tied up in rusty chains that cut into his wrists and so he stumbled and crashed against the wet wall that was losing its plaster and where mold had formed. Unfortunately he fell down the steps and bloodied his forehead and banged up his shin. Warm liquid dripped over his right eye. Painstakingly he got up. With heavy, echoing steps the two guards followed behind him. One, a dwarf with a harsh face, carried a torch that illuminated his ugly features consisting of disgusting eyes, nose, mouth and forehead in a pale light. The other was tall and strong and hit his callous palms with the shaft of a whip. He grinned viciously and a mouth with gaps and yellow teeth appeared. "Go on!" he barked in a thunderous voice and pushed the shaft of the whip into the prisoner's back so that he stumbled and fell again. This time a massive door made of oak stopped the fall. Almost unconscious he stayed down and stared at cob webs. Something hurried across his hand with a squeal. Then the tall one put him on his feet and the dwarf opened the door. Immediately, stinking, stale air hit his nose. He wondered what was expecting him behind this door, way below ground. If only he could climb up the stairs again towards the light. Did he have to go down into this endless dungeon that held him prisoner. He didn't even remember anything before. "Light! Only light!". He moved along the stony floor. The dwarf put the torch into a holder and a rectangular room with an arched ceiling from which water was dripping, was illuminated. Various devices and tools were arranged along the walls and hung from the ceiling. In the center there was some sort of bed with curious features. The floor was slightly tilted towards the center so that any kind of liquids would flow there and disappear in a gutter.
They now untied him and ordered him to lay face-down on the strange bed. The tall one had put a black hood on his head and the little one stood like a wax figure next to one of the torture devices and rubbed his hands with malicious joy. The former now snapped the whip through the air and let the leather bands come down on the prisoner's back. He screamed in horror. His shirt was torn and blood spilled from a longish wound.
"Ah, how this blood grosses me out," said the henchman with sarcasm and turned his head away. Then he whipped him another two or three times. "You know my methods! Without blood but not without oomph!" he mocked.
The dwarf now tied each wrist and ankle of the prisoner to some kind of wooden axles at both ends of the bed. At the other's mute signal he began to tighten the ties by turning wheels attached to the axles. The prisoner flexed his muscles but it still felt like was being torn apart. There was no use in screaming so grimacing, he bit on his teeth until his jaws were pulled apart.
After what seemed like an eternity the torturers loosened the ropes. He quivered, ached and sighed. If only he would have stayed home. The dwarf took two metal devices with screws on them off the wall and threw them over to the tall one who turned and twisted the prisoner's arms until the joints cracked and then put the vise-like devices on the thumbs. Slowly, almost delighted, he tightened the screws and the pressure on the thumbs of the tormented grew. There was no way he could defend himself against it. His arms were numb. The two tormentors broke out in terrible laughter. The tall one bent the arms of the tortured one more time - once to the left and once to the right. But he hardly felt it anymore. Then the dwarf removed the thumbscrews but now the other brought over iron boots with screws on their sides and the prisoner knew what expected him now.
The big one tightened the squeaking screws with finesse. Since the prisoner's legs were not yet injured he fainted from the pain when it was over. Now the dwarf got a small, brown flask out of a dirty cupboard on the wall. As he popped open the cork burning vapors of acid spread and the dwarf covered his nose and mouth with a rag. He let a few drops of the liquid drip onto the forehead of the fainted. Immediately there was a hissing sound and the victim awoke with a painridden face. They tied him up again and ordered him to climb back up the stairs. "Finally!" But after every step he collapsed. The legs refused to function. Brutally they pushed and pulled him up the long, dark staircase. He didn't know anymore which way was up and down. Everywhere he saw images of the mighty oak door. Now finally he began to scream heart-rendingly. The tormentors looked at each other and nodded in agreement.

Covered in sweat I brought the car to a stop in the parking space. "Congratulations," the driving instructor said friendly and shook my cramped hand, "you have passed your drivers test without a single mistake!"
Happily I waved the drivers license through the air. So, I had passed my drivers test.


Copyright © April 1981, Wasty, The Torture
German title: Die Folterkammer
87 lines
Reading time: approx. 6 1/2 minutes


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Last updated February 12, 2001 by Martin Mathis, e-mail lastbandit.com