Not So Painful

“What the fuck is going on? There’s something over my eyes.” I think to myself. I go to reach to take it off but I can’t, my hands are tied behind my back.

“What the actual fuck is going on right now?” I don’t know what is happening or what's going on. All I think of is getting out of here somehow. I start to try to get my wrists free, no amount of wriggling is doing me any help. I can break one of my wrists and get out of here easily.

I start pulling my wrists in a way to break it free when I hear footsteps on what sounds like gravel. Seconds later, I can hear what sounds like a garage door opening.

“So are you trying to escape or what?” A guy's voice yells in my direction.

Scared and confused, I just blurt out.

“Please just let me go!”.

The voice laughs and abruptly stops. It goes quiet for a few moments. I can only hear the guy faintly breathing.

I open my mouth to speak again but as soon as I do, I only hear the garage open and close. Silence.

I was in there only a few minutes so I try again with my wrists when I hear footsteps on the gravel. The door opens and closes once again, this time there is more than one voice, there seem to be about four or five possibly. An unfamiliar voice speaks up first. It’s very deep and scary,

“Now why the fuck would you choose a woman?...Fucking Psycho!”.

The guy from earlier replies, “I figured a woman is easier to grab and move”.

A deep voice says, “Well time to man up, you’ve got to deal with the consequences. Treat her as if you would treat a man. No remorse or sympathy, if you can’t handle it then you're out. And that's not just you being kicked out. You got it?”.

I hear a few conversations overlapping and then I feel someone standing close to me. I feel them lean down next to my ear and whisper. “Now you be a good girl and relax for the rookie”.

Immediately I start to panic, I start shouting like a banshee,

“PLEASE! PLEASE! DON’T DO THIS! I CAN GIVE YOU ANYTHING YOU WANT EXCEPT THIS! PLEASE!”.

The deep voice responds, “Honey, if you think this is about sex or even money. You are in for a rude awakening”.

“SO WHAT DO YOU WANT!?” I shout but my voice starts to crack.

Another voice I haven’t heard yet, decides to speak up.

“Well since you will be so distraught after this that you won't remember, hopefully by the rookie, I’ll let you in on a secret. You aren’t here to be raped or killed even, but to be tortured in the most horrific ways imaginable, this is the Torture Team. You are the rookie’s initiation and I’d like to thank you for your services.”

Petrified yet amused, I laugh.

“You should just cut my head off and call it a day then. You made a huge mistake.”

All the voices rumble with laughter.

The man from earlier speaks,

“Oh no, you're not going out easily. But trust me, I will make you suffer to the point where you'll wish that I would've just cut your head off.”

The deep voice speaks out, “Killing is against our code, we only torture. We torture people so badly to the point that they wish they were dead.”

I smile and shrug. Seemingly amused with the banter, the deep voice bellows out.

“We’re leaving now Rook, I suggest you handle this and let us know when you're done. I hope you don't feel the need to call before the job is done. We will be watching.”

A stream of ‘good luck’ comes from the other voices in the room. Footsteps descend to where I imagine the door is, it opens but just before it closes, the deep voice talks one more time.

“You have twenty minutes.”

The door closes.

I hear footsteps coming towards me, seconds later the fabric around my eyes is gone.

Adjusting to the light, I look around at where I'm at and who I’m with.

I'm in an very old barn, the wood is worn and broken in a lot of sections. There is only one door, it looks like a makeshift garage door.

I can only see one window but it’s covered with brown paper.

Around the barn are cameras, one in each corner.

There isn't a floor, it’s just dirt and besides the chair I’m sitting in, there is only a flood light and a workbench.

Standing in front of me is a lanky young man, his skin is pale, he has bright blue hair and freckles covering his entire face. He looks like a child, he looks far from the tough guy image I had visualized in my mind. We just stare at each other for what feels like minutes, he looks like he is more afraid of this situation than me.

“Isn’t it me who’s supposed to be scared of you?” I mock the worried expression on his face. He doesn’t find it funny, he storms into my face and slaps me. I turn my head for dramatic purposes then pretend to cry. That seems to empower him. He smiles and says,

“Yeah bitch, you are the scared one here not me”. The guy says in the most macho voice he can muster up. I just try not to laugh but it comes out uncontrollably. Bewildered, he punches me yet I do nothing so he does it two more times. My head moves and my cheeks are red but no tears come out my eyes. He stands there stunned while I look him straight in the face and smile,

“You fucked up picking me”.

He runs his hand through his hair and looks at me. He seems to be in deep thought, as if he’s studying me, contemplating what to do next. Swiftly he turns around and heads for the workbench, he opens up a drawer and pulls out a pair of garden shears. He looks at me with a mischievous smile and points the shears right at me. Walking towards me, he stops right in front of me and asks,

“Would you rather lose one finger or two?”.

I say nothing. I just look at him with a blank stare. Disappointed with my lack of reaction, he grabs my hand and cuts off three of my fingers. I have no reaction, I see the look of panic on his face. I start laughing,

“What do you want me to do? Scream?”.

A dumbfounded look falls on his face, I laugh some more. He takes one of my shoes off and cuts my big toe off with the shears . I don’t know whether to label his expression as more scared or confused, possibly a mixture of both. He throws the shears to the ground and rushes back to the workbench. He grabs a hammer and hits my hand, I still feel nothing. He tries numerous tactics for the next ten minutes like he chops off a piece of my left ear with butcher's knife, he stabs me around ten times in my legs, he pulls three teeth out of my mouth but every time he has to go back to the workbench because I have no reaction.

I’m bleeding but other than that, I feel nothing. He wipes sweat off his forehead and just sits on the ground in front of me. Looking up at me, he says “What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you on some kind of hardcore drug?".

Instead of getting the satisfaction of torturing me, I am torturing him, it's hilarious. We both hear footsteps outside the barn, instinctively he jumps off the ground and runs over to the workbench. I assume he wants to look as if he is trying to find something else to do to me. The door opens, four guys walk in. I can tell who the deep voice belongs to immediately, a huge ogre-like guy with a thick beard and unibrow who looks like he stands almost 7 feet. The other three guys look oddly just like the Rook, they all have freckles and lanky bodies, maybe they’re all related. They look straight at me and notice that I don’t look in pain but weirdly calm.

“What is going on here? Why is she not screaming or crying?” Someone says.

“Listen, you’ve all been watching, you know that I have been trying everything. Look around, look at this”. The Rook points at all the tools covered with blood spread across the floor. “I’ve tried everything I can think of, short of just actually pointing a bullet in between her eyes”.

The big man shouts “YOU CAN’T BE DOING A GOOD JOB IF SHE IS STILL COHERENT, IF SHE IS STILL OKAY.” He takes a long breath before looking at me. “She shouldn't be a challenge Rook, she should've been the easiest job to do…. Now we’re going to have to take over”.

Just when I think the Rook is going to cry, he laughs and drops his head, “I want you to do what you think will work, please. Show me how it’s done”.

The big guy walks over to me, signals for two of the guys to do something. Seconds later, a hay hook is dangling from a wood beam. The same two guys come and grab me out of the chair and hang my arms from the hook. The big man grabs a drill.

‘Figures he’d go for more drastic measures to try to prove a point’ I think to myself. He comes back over to me and turns the drill on and pushes it into my kneecap, again I have no reaction. He pushes it in harder, when I don’t react the way a normal person should, he yanks it out of one knee and puts it another.

He looks up at me, waiting for some reaction, but just like the guy before, I give him nothing. He turns around at the other guys as if to get some validation like do you see what is happening right now.

“How about you chop off one of my feet?” I suggest. “Maybe that’s my kryptonite, try it”. I laugh as I raise my left foot up in his face. He angrily smacks it down. I can see now on the four guys' faces that they are experiencing what the Rook has felt since we started this…. Fear. The same emotion I was supposed to feel.

“How about I let you in on a little secret because I'm annoyed and tired. I have C.I.P also known as congenital insensitivity to pain aka I can’t feel shit that you are doing right now. I’m more likely to die from blood loss from my foot ,before you even hear a cry from me. You all need to reconsider your job or hobby or club motto because you are fucking terrible at it if you can’t do some research on your victims...If this was school you’d be flunking out right now.” I ever so sarcastically tell them. I continue, “So how about this, you let me down, untie me, get me the fuck out of this old barn and far away from you. And you won’t have to deal with the pressure of living up to your tormenting standards. Unless you plan on killing me, I suggest you let me go”.

The Rook shakes his head, “She’s right, short of killing her or chopping off a limb which will kill her considering where we are. What else can we do?”.

They all look at each other, look up at me and in that moment, I know that they have no other choice.