[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/de966543-8dd7-40db-87a4-c04aba35b068.png[/img][/center]
[hr][color=396BD4]“AA-[i]mmh—![/i]”[/color]

Roan was screaming before he was even fully awake. It was only a short yelp, cut off in the middle and muffled as the shock slammed his jaw shut, his mouth flooding with the taste of copper as he inadvertently took a chunk out of the inside of his cheek. Eyes flying open, he jolted upright – or tried to, anyway. Plenty conscious now, he was still sluggish and clumsy, and only really managed to push his back up against the wall, away from the white boots he recognized too well. As soon as his eyes opened, he squeezed them shut again, shrinking on the floor as his sudden spike in blood pressure brought the pain of a million wounds, new and old, flooding back. 

It washed over him like a wave, and nausea along with it; as he struggled blindly into a sitting position, Roan was sure he’d throw up, if only there was anything in his stomach in the first place. The room had a putrid smell to it, burning his nostrils, though it was soon mercifully replaced with the heady scent of copper as a small trickle of blood started to drip from his nose – probably from the shock, although Roan didn’t notice it. 

What he [i]did[/i] notice, when he finally dared to open his eyes a second time, turned his stomach once again: it was Marie, his friend and comrade, with her face agonizingly twisted beyond recognition. She lay there lifeless on the floor, bruised and contorted, with smoke curling up lazily from a burn on her temple, and her dull, lifeless eyes locked with his. 

[color=396BD4][i]“Ah!”[/i][/color] Roan screamed again at the sight, recoiling back only to smack the back of his head on the stone wall behind him. His scream morphed into a groan, the gaunt and beaten man curling up on himself and straining against his shackles to clutch his head, hissing with the special sort of frustration that came with insult added to injury. 

[color=396BD4]“Fuck!”[/color] he cursed, specks of blood flying from his mouth as he threw his hands down with a clatter in bleak, hopeless frustration. [i]Another[/i] one gone. Poor Marie didn’t deserve that. She’d suffered enough indignity and torment already. And yet, Roan was so selfish as to wish he’d met her fate himself a little earlier, if only because at long last, she could rest now, and he was still stuck in the thick of it. 

Quiet clinking to his right alerted him of the second prisoner in the room. It was Dylan, another comrade of his (and to Roan’s knowledge, the only other prisoner in the building now), shackled right alongside him. Damn, he looked worse than the last time he saw him – but of course, Dylan could probably say the same about him. 

But the sight of his friend wasn’t reassuring, setting Roan even further on edge than the chilling stare of the lunatic Inquisitor eyeing him up. Aside from the two of them, a cursory glance confirmed that the only other people in the room were the bored-looking guards and the Inquisitor himself, all looking expectantly at Roan. Roan racked his brain; all he remembered was a silhouette in the doorway, hands he was too weak and indifferent to resist, and then a welcome release… 

And then a shock, and he was here. But he knew enough to know this wasn’t an ordinary torture session. If their captors only brought them down here to watch their comrade die, as they did so many times before, they would have woken Roan up before the action started. No, there was only one other thing they brought more than one prisoner down here for. 

[color=396BD4]“Oh no, no, no… fuck!”[/color] he repeated, his shouts sounding more like sobs as the reality of the situation slowly dawned on him. [color=396BD4]“Dammit, you [i]freak![/i]”[/color] he spat at the Inquisitor, who Roan was only just now remembering was supposed to be gone, [color=396BD4]“Aren’t you tired of us yet?!”[/color][hr][right][@Achronum][/right]