Ivan could hear the men at the door. They were fiddling with the locks. He heard the clank clank sound of metal keys against the small wooden frame. He cringed. Ivan knew what was coming. He tried to break his bonds again. He shook the chains that held him to the ground. No luck. He sat down and waited; waited for the pain that was inevitably to come. His heart filled with dread. He looked at his arm. Scars lined it all the way down to his hand. He could barely look at it. He didn’t even want to know how bad his back was.
Finally, the door swung open. Two guards stood there; one equipped with a meter long whip. The other had his sword ready in case Ivan tried anything. Though, by this stage, he found it unnecessary. Ivan could barely lift himself. He did not possess the strength to challenge these…..these demons. He also knew that fighting was pointless. It would end in him getting a larger punishment. Maybe if I’m nice enough, they’ll actually kill me this time. He mused. No. He decided after a moment. They were too cruel for that. They would rather cut off his fingers and keep him alive. Torture was the only thing they knew.
He shuddered again and scratched the floor; checking to see if his fingers were all still intact. Compared to some of the other prisoners, Ivan had been lucky. That didn’t make him feel any better about his predicament though. The guards just stared at him for the time being. They were keeping watch. The guards weren’t allowed to harm the prisoners. They just stood there while the Reaper came. In a way, they could be called the Reaper’s servants but no one in the prison cells would be caught dead talking like that about them.
They made Ivan nervous about what was to come. I guess, in a way, they added to the fear factor. Their presence meant that the Reaper was about to arrive. After all, the Reaper liked that sort of attention. He wanted people to cower away from him. That was the sort of reputation he liked to have. Of course, physically, that fear factor increased tenfold. The man was extremely well built and tall. His head was shaven and his eyes were black as death itself. No one knew the Reaper’s actual name or who he was. Then again, no one needed to know. To the public, he was the King’s loyal executioner. Down here, he was a monster, Satan himself in disguise.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Ivan could hear large heavy footsteps down the hallway. Each sound seemed closer than the one before it. He was approaching. Ivan closed his eyes and prepared to meet his fate. Images flew in his mind. Everything that happened to him before the prison appeared to him vividly. He recalled his part in the War where everything had gone wrong for his country. He was just a young soldier in the army. He had a family; a wife and kids. He was happy there; free of worry.
That all changed after the War. His country lost and his world caved in, in front of him. He remembered being tortured by the enemy who held him for information regarding the soldiers who had fled after the war. He refused to tell them and they threatened his family. He tried to negotiate with the enemy but they did not listen to reason. He never saw his family again, never sure whether they had survived somehow or not. Then they locked him up in this prison. They asked him for information and he supplied it to them. That was perhaps the reason for him being given lesser punishments than the others.
He couldn’t even remember how long he had been here for.
“Sir!”
“Sir!”
Ivan’s eyes fluttered open. In front of him stood the beast known only as the Reaper. Both guards stood at attention, saluting him. The Reaper waved them down. Ivan stared at him wearily. He noticed and arched his eyebrows in mock worry.
“Tired, are you Ivan? Don’t worry; I have something that’ll wake you right up. It’s stronger than tea, I assure you.” He said; flashing a smile at his prisoner.
Ivan got angry but his rage drained from him almost immediately. “Just get it over with.” He said dejectedly.
The Reaper was amused at the thought. He held out his hand and one of the guards hurried forward to hand him the whip. It almost would have been funny to see the guard running in such a small space had the scene not been so grim.
“One last thing before my beating.” Ivan requested.
“Yes.” The Reaper indicated for him to continue.
“My family,” he croaked, “did they survive?”
The Reaper seemed to be thinking of what to say. Finally, he shook his head.
“It seems you have been my slave long enough to deserve an answer. No, they did not survive. As soon as the runaways of the War were captured, your family was killed.” He said so without a trace of sympathy in his voice.
Ivan broke apart. His entire life was suddenly meaningless. The only reason that had urged him to live, the hope that his family had somehow survived and were alive was shattered. Then he seemed to notice something strange. The Reaper’s words sounded strange. He strived on breaking apart his prisoners, that was true enough, but no matter how long a prisoner had stayed here, he would never tell them the truth. That meant….., no it couldn’t be could it?
“My family’s alive!” He said.
He looked to the Reaper who was temporarily stunned. A flicker of uncertainty rippled across his eyes but he quickly regained his composure.
“Nonsense! We threw your family to the alligators and watched them scream in pain! Now, any more talk out of you and I’ll personally see to it that you end up with the worst torture possible!”
The words barely registered in Ivan’s mind. His family was alive. They were somewhere safe. No amount of torture could take that thought away from him. He would find them. He promised himself. He would take the Reaper’s beatings today but he would be planning his escape now. He would rally the prisoners, escape this hellhole and find his family again. Nothing could stop him from that. New strength coursed in to his body. Perhaps the Reaper would get to enjoy this day but come soon; Ivan would be the victor.