The sound of water dripping was deafening, it flooded the dark room. Stirring from his own slumber he woke up on a small bed and as he stood on the floor he felt the coarse stone floors scrape at his feet. Cuffed to his wrists he realised were cold shackles attached to the wall that the bed lay against. Chafing at his wrists he tugged at them to no avail, alone in the room he could barely discern the door in front of him thanks to the moonlight that slipped through the slit he had for a window behind him. Moving towards the doors the room was slowly filled with the sound of the chains rattling but as he got just more than an arm's reach from the door the chains jerked back and a quiet snickering laugh could be heard from inside the walls.

"Who are you?," he asked, his voice trembling. His throat ached from thirsts and moving his lips felt as if they were tearing.

A scurry noise could be heard from behind the walls and a small 'thud'. "I am Tibelius, the master asked me to watch after you."

Confused on who this 'master' was he asked him whom it may have been. "Who is this master?"

"Well, if I told you it would be no fun. How about a hint?" The voice was quick to respond. He found the high pitched squeak of the voice irritating but beared it.

Sighing quietly he agreed. "Fine, a hint."

Hearing the voice groaned he was confused. Was he not playing this petty 'game' he wanted him to play. "It's no fun when you agree. Normally they are screaming or yelling. Some even cry like the lady in the room to the le-" It cut itself off or maybe someone did. After a brief second the sound of a slap could be heard from the otherside. The creature began to sob desperately. "Master I'm sorry!" It screeched at the top of its lungs. Then a sound of what possibly was a dagger plunging itself into feeble flesh was heard. The last noise 'it' made had been a gargling choke from it drowning in its own blood.

His blood ran like a frozen river, stagnant and cold. The colour drained as he heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming around the walls closer and closer to the door. A light humming could be heard and it inched, step by step to him. Accompanied by a rattle of keys the torturous melody sent into discourse by the man's own cursing as the keys clattered to the ground. Eventually a click was heard and the door slowly slid open. Light flooded in from around the silhouette as he cling desperately to the wall almost as if it were to swallow him whole, a better fate than what this man could possibly have in store. As orange lights flickered and illuminated his face the boy could tell who he was. 'Lord Halveous' the lord of the city the boy was scraping by on the streets of. A city no better than a battlefield he was unfortunate enough to have pickpocketed the wrong person and a thud left him to wake up here. Wearing a long flowing coat the hovered about the ground and a top hat with a rim shading his eyes, his green eyes illuminated like jewels.

"Oh my, oh my. A dirty little rat like you will finally have a purpose other than pilfering the pockets of good men like me." His voice was haughty and the boy could tell he had the scent of blood rife upon his body.

Knowing he would most likely never leave this prison and be left to be a plaything for this sick wretch he thought he could regain some dignity by spitting at the man. However with not a drop of saliva in his mouth it seemed more like a child's first attempt to whistle. Then a 'swish' rang out.

"Ahh!" Screamed the boy as blood began to flow from his brow. It was not a deep cut but the gash rang the long way across his brow and only then did he realise the lord had already begun to sheathe his rapier.

"Oh what a naughty boy you are?" A twisted grin grew upon his face. "It'll be fun preparing you then."

"Preparing for what," the boy retorted, still trying to staunch the blood flow.

"For the summoning of course. You could hear that little fiend Tibelius couldn't you?"

He nodded fearing, rejection may cost him more than pride.

"Well, I'll explain it to you. The fiend you had been talking to was a feral imp that was ordered to speak in Iblisian the language of those outside the mortal realm. Certain mortals like you and I can hear exactly what he was saying while others will hear noises that have a much more 'traumatic' impact. Like the dying cry of their child or the hateful words of their beloved. It is utterly entertaining. But as long as one can speak the language they are qualified to summon a demon of their own." Looking at the boy he chuckled. "I almost let you go but then you had to ruin it by spitting on me. Am I really that hateful."

Sarcastically the boy sneered. "Well, my lord, your reputation within the city is infamous at best of times. The number of good fellows that disappear each month and show up later whether as a pulp, a pile of bones or haggard corpses is astounding. Talk of the slums, was you have been taking them and throwing them after your habitual fun." The boy braced himself for a strike that never happened.

Clasping his hands together he smiled this time with the look 'oh you have caught me' written across his face mockingly. "Indeed I did but not for the lustful purposes like Donovan that slimy roach. No, I am a refined individual in the pursuit of the greater good I had used them to conduct my experiments." At that moment he stopped and looked at the boy. "Oh, my, how cliche a whole exposition just after a short meeting. That will not do at all." Clapping his hands. "Alcucio drag the boy to the chamber."

A lumbering figure made of conjoined lumps of flesh sloppily stitched towered over him. It seemed cramped in the room as it grasped the boy and the chains. Ripping them out of the wall with the boy he felt a sharp jolt run through his arms as he saw him carry not only him but the wall the chains were attached to.

"Alcucio, you silly boy you are meant to take the chains off." He sighed.

"So-orry Mashta," the monster responded.

"No, it's fine, it'll show him his attempts will simply be useless. Take him to the room at the end of the hall."

The demon shuddered and looked at the boy pitifully as he dragged him there. Trudging through the hall he could hear clangering and sobbing behind the doors. The door just after his rang out with the sobbing of a woman maybe a few years older than him. Yet he didn't care for his fellow victims. Eventually he was dragged in front of a door stained with crimson handprints, some still dripping. He held back the urge to vomit as the scent of something foul was emanating from the room. The monster ripped the shackles off him, by now he wall attached to the chains had broken leaving only a small amount left and the monster planted him onto a chair. In the room a small crystal kept it lit and he couldn't see further than the monster who closed the door behind him. It was fumbling with the straps as it finally did it the straps felt as if it had been crushing his wrists. Finally it walked out and he was left there restrained in the dark. He did not want to die but rather than being the sadist's toy he'd rather on his own terms. Then he stuck out his tongue steeled his resolve and came crashing down. He felt his own teeth pass through the flesh of his tongue as blood poured out like a fountain. He began feeling hazy and as his vision was fading in and out of focus it seemed somebody walked in with almost no care for him and then something hit his neck and he passed out.