Ethan gasped for breath as he found himself once again in the alley, the familiar grip of the criminal's hand tight on his arm. The fresh and vivid memories of his recent torment were seared into his mind, making it difficult to think clearly. The menacing voice echoed in his ears, "Nice ring you've got there, kid."
He collapsed to the ground, trembling. "What have I become?" he whispered to himself, the horror of his situation pressing down on him like a suffocating weight. For a moment, the criminals were taken aback by his sudden collapse, but the leader quickly regained his composure.
"Get him up," the leader ordered, his voice cold and authoritative. The other criminals roughly yanked Ethan to his feet, binding his hands once again. Ethan didn't struggle; he knew it was pointless. The brutal cycle would just continue. They gagged him and dragged him back to the warehouse on the outskirts of the city.
Inside the dimly lit warehouse, the criminals resumed their cruel taunting, but Ethan's mind was elsewhere. He couldn't stop replaying the torture in his head: the breaking of his fingers, the removal of his teeth, the acid burns, and the snake—the snake that had burrowed into his brain and bitten him with its neurotoxic venom. The agony had been beyond anything he could have imagined, and the fear of experiencing it all over again paralyzed him.
"What's wrong with you?" one of the criminals sneered, noticing the vacant look in Ethan's eyes. "Cat got your tongue?"
The leader stepped forward, smirking. "We'll have to find new ways to make you scream, won't we, kid?" He motioned for one of his men to bring a small wooden box. The contents of the box rattled ominously.
Ethan's eyes widened in terror as the criminal opened the box, revealing dozens of bullet ants. Known for having one of the most painful stings in the insect world, the bullet ants were an instrument of pure agony.
They held Ethan down and forced the ants into his nostrils. The pain was immediate and intense, shooting through his face and head like lightning. He screamed, his body convulsing as the ants bit and stung inside his nasal passages. The venom caused excruciating pain, like having hot coals pressed against his skin.
While Ethan writhed in agony from the ants, the leader prepared a syringe filled with a deadly poison. The criminal approached Ethan and injected the poison into his throat. The venom quickly spread, burning his insides and causing his muscles to seize and spasm uncontrollably. His vision blurred as his throat swelled shut, cutting off his air supply.
Next, they brought out a small vial of sulfuric acid. They pried his mouth open and poured the acid onto his tongue. The acid burned through the soft tissues, sending waves of searing pain down his throat. Ethan's screams turned into gurgles as the acid continued to eat away at his flesh.
Hours passed, each moment a new torment. They electrocuted him, cut him, and burned him, pushing him to the brink of madness. Ethan's mind was a haze of pain and despair. He couldn't die, but he couldn't live like this either.
Growing bored with the usual methods, the criminals decided to push Ethan further. They injected him with a cocktail of hallucinogenic drugs, causing him to see horrific visions. Ethan's mind was assaulted by grotesque images and sounds, amplifying his suffering to an unimaginable degree.
Finally, one of the criminals plunged a knife into Ethan's chest. His vision blurred, and he felt the cold grip of death closing in. But then, just as quickly, his ability activated. The world around him twisted and contorted, and he was thrust back to the moment the criminal grabbed his arm in the alley.
Ethan gasped, his heart pounding as he found himself once again in the alley with the criminals. The pain and memories of his recent torture lingered, fresh and vivid. The menacing voice echoed in his ears, "Nice ring you've got there, kid."
This time, Ethan didn't collapse. He stood there, trembling but resolute. He knew what was coming, but he also knew that he couldn't let them break him. As they began to bind his hands, he looked up at the leader, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and defiance.
The leader noticed the change in Ethan's demeanor and smirked. "Looks like you've still got some fight in you, kid. Good. It'll make this more interesting."
Ethan took a deep breath, preparing himself for the inevitable torture. He didn't know how he would survive this endless hell, but he knew he had to try. Each time he was reborn, he carried the pain and memories of his past deaths, but he also carried the hope that maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to break the cycle.
As they dragged him back to the warehouse, Ethan whispered to himself, "I won't give up. I'll find a way out of this. I have to." And with that, he steeled himself for the horrors to come, determined to survive no matter what.