Once a Gang leader Always a Gang leader

18

Aria                               *violent scene, read with caution.

One of the best ways to torture is too raise anxiety. Anxiety can kill. Yes, suicide and other ways are good too but if you really want to make someone go crazy, you make them paranoid. You make their heart race. Once the heart begins beating out of control, breathing goes wild, and thoughts begin to become scarier and scarier. It's actually body chemistry that makes people go clinically insane. For the past month I've not touched a single hair on Sam. I leave her in the dark, let her thoughts run. And today I feel it's time to act.

I make my way down the hall of my gang's 'headquarters.' A new building I bought where all the business is handled rather than my house like before. I've had people built sound proof rooms where the underground parking lot should be. All of them empty except for at the end of the hall. My shoes are the only sounds that echo through the halls, my hands are shaking with excitement as my heart begins beating faster and my emotions written clearly on my face with a smile. As I take my last step to the door I pause and breathe deeply, no more show just actions.

I type in a pass code to unlock the door and open it slowly, revealing nothing but darkness. I run my hand over the wall and switch the light on. The hunched over figure, supposedly Sam, flinches up. When I'm fully inside I close the door with my foot, it locking automatically, and pull the bag off my shoulder, tossing it onto the only table in the room. The room is completely empty except with a metal chair and a table with rounded edges. With gang members you have to take much caution because the smart ones will use anything they find. I cut my way through rope with the corner of a metal table once, others can do it too. I unzip the bag, glancing over all the tools I brought with me. I'm like a child in a candy store, I don't know what to pick. And then the silence is broken.

"I didn't mean to kill-" Sam croaks out in a voice and I lift the bag slamming it on the metal table, causing a loud crashing sound to stop her from speaking. I feel the excitement turn to blind rage and I clench my fists tightly, squeezing my eyes. I begin repeating one word in my head, calm. "Aria, I'm serious!! I only-" She begins again almost in her regular voice. I grab the knife in my pocket and pull it open, walking over to her and lean over, clenching her hair in fist so her face looks up to the ceiling. I press the middle of the blade against her entire tongue to keep her mouth open, as a doctor would do with a tongue depressor. Her gag reflex kicks in automatically, causing her tongue to try and retract. I turn the knife and press it down deeper, causing her tongue to pull against the edge of the knife and cut herself deeply. She whimpers out as I let go of her hair and pull the knife away, a mixture of blood and drool begins to stream out of her mouth.  Let's see her try to talk now.

This is the tricky part of torturing, if you want to see blood you can't make the victim bleed too much or else they'll pass out or bleed to death before you get any fun. I place my index finger under her chin to bring her head up and use the knife to open it again. I didn't go all the way through, I mean I wasn't trying to but still it would've made everything easier. It's okay more work for me but more pain for her. I sigh softly and walk back around the table so I'm still facing her. Another rule, if possible never turn your back and leave it exposed. I wipe my knife on a black rag, pulling a glove on one hand and pull out a hand blow torch, turning it on I begin holding my blade over the fire.

"In ways, I'm helping you by doing this." I say walking back to her. "If you don't cooperate it'll be worse for you. Not in terms of I'll torture you more, more like you will put yourself through unnecessary pain." She begins pulling her head back, staring at me with her mouth shut. I stare at her for a few minutes and then she slowly opens her mouth, drool with blood coming out again. I roll my eyes and pull her tongue out with the gloved hand, lifting her tongue to see the bottom and place the tip of the hot knife where the cut begins. I pierce the knife through and beginning dragging it down to full split her tongue and cauterize the wound at the same time. Tears begin streaming down her face as she tries to pull her face away and one of the most god awful noises come out of her that's suppose to resemble a scream. I pull  the knife away running it over my fingers as I slowly walk backwards until my butt hits the table. 

"Okay, enough wasting time." I close the knife and put it back into my pocket. "I'm going to allow you to pick the area you least care about, and choice wisely... Twitch the body part." I look at her, she still has her head dropped forward and a bit of drool falling. I run my eyes over her entire body. People usually pick the smallest area on their body when give the choice of which body part will be tortured. What they don't think of is a proper torturer will know how to extract the most pain out of the smallest area. I'm hoping she picks one specific place. I see a bit of movement in her pinky.

"Pinky finger?" I ask and see her nod head slowly. Perfect. I place another glove over my uncovered hand. I grab a hammer from the bag and pick a small reed from a bag full of more. The ones usually found in wind instruments. I walk over to her again and get down on one knee, grabbing her right pinky finger and placing the thinner side of the reed under her semi-long nail. 

"I'd just like to let you know that no matter what you pick, you will be in more pain than you've ever felt in your life. All those others that tortured you are nothing compared to me. Because not only and am I a pissed off gang leader, I'm a mother who's had her child ripped away from her. Have you ever lost a life that was growing inside? That was the only innocent part of you... I'm sorry I'm talking too much, I guess you just want to get this whole thing started with." I seethe through clenched teeth, holding her pinky and the reed raising the hammer with my other hand and hitting it as hard as I can. The room fills with the same gut wrenching scream as the wood forces itself between her fingernail and skin. I set the hammer down next to me and let her screaming subside. 

"Regret picking the pinky now?" I chuckle out quietly. I pull the wood out causing her to whimper and I set it down next to the hammer. "We can't leave this here, now can we?" I grab the separated nail and rip the small part still hanging on off, she winces.

I won't be able to make Sam feel my physical and emotional pain so I'm settling for just physical. And I will make it immensely long and painful.