in a rundown building, within a dark, small room, a boy lay face down. He wasn't moving, but the faint rise and fall of his chest and the soft sound of his breathing indicated that he was alive.
Suddenly, the door, from which a little light had been seeping through, slammed shut with a thud, plunging the room into deeper darkness. The only remaining light came from a broken window on the left side of the wall, but it did little to illuminate the space.
The boy heard footsteps approaching from behind. He knew it was the man he was getting closer.
The boy knew what was coming next. After all, this wasn't the first time he would be beaten. A small sigh escaped his lips.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his head.
"Ahhh!" he gasped.
The man stepped closer and grabbed the boy's hair, yanking his head back to force him to look up.
"Ho ho ho, you're definitely different," the man said with a small laugh, his voice laced with amusement. "Most boys your age would be crying or begging by now. What's your name?"
The man leaned in, studying the boy's face. There was no fear, no terror in the boy's eyes just a look of annoyance, as if he was thinking, Here we go again.
The boy remained silent, his eyes locked on the man's, refusing to be intimidated.
"Interesting," the man muttered, a grin spreading across his face.
"You know, boy, it's a good thing you came to me yourself. It's been so long since I've tortured someone. I was starting to get bored. This is good really good The man's voice shifted into a manic tone, a lunatic's laughter echoing through the room.
The boy stayed silent, though inside, he cursed his luck.
This is going to hurt like hell this time, for sure, he thought, sighing again. He had been tortured before, countless times, and had encountered many types of people. But he knew this sadistic lunatic was one of the worst to be tortured by. Sigh... The boy sighed again, trying to move his body, to break free from the spell. To his surprise, he still couldn't move a muscle. This wasn't the first time he had been hit with a "Bind and Still" spell, but usually, he could break through it with some resistance or wait for the spell to wear off. The fact that he couldn't now meant only one thing this man was not like the small-time street gangsters he had faced before.
The boy's mind raced, searching for any possible way to escape, but his body remained paralyzed. Still, he kept trying.
"You know, boy, you're quite interesting," the man said, his voice tinged with admiration. "I've never seen anyone stay this calm in a situation like this."
Even though there wasn't much light in the room, it didn't matter to the boy. He could always see in the dark whether that was normal or not, he didn't know. It had always been that way, from his childhood until now.
The man released the boy's hair, letting his head drop back to the cold, damp floor with a thud. "No name, huh Or perhaps you're just too stubborn to speak," he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. He circled the boy slowly, his eyes glinting with a sinister light as he savored the boy's silence. "Nameless it is, then. Suits you, doesn't it? A nameless boy, in a nameless grave. After all, who would remember a worthless wretch like you
The boy remained silent, his gaze locked onto the man's face with a calm, almost serene expression. There was something unnerving about the way his eyes seemed to peer into the man's soul, dissecting his every move with a detached, calculating intensity. This silent defiance gnawed at the man, fueling his anger.
"Let's see if there's anything special about you," the man muttered, almost to himself, as he crouched beside the boy. His hand hovered over the boy's chest, glowing with a pale, sickly light that seemed to drain the warmth from the air around them. "Mana Scan," he whispered, and the glow seeped into the boy's skin, spreading like tendrils of mist through his veins, searching, probing for any sign of power.
The man's brows furrowed as he concentrated, his expression shifting from curiosity to confusion. "What…His voice was barely audible, disbelief coloring his tone. Not even a trace of mana No energy signature at all He pressed his hand more firmly against the boy's chest, as if trying to force some hidden power to reveal itself. "You're just… empty. A hollow shell. How can that be? Even the weakest of creatures have some form of mana…"
Still, the boy said nothing. His eyes remained fixed on the man's, unblinking, unwavering. There was no fear in his gaze, only a calm, almost eerie detachment, as though the pain and suffering inflicted upon him were nothing more than a minor inconvenience. This silent defiance infuriated the man even more.
"You're just a powerless piece of trash!" the man spat, his voice rising with barely-contained rage. "You're nothing! And yet…" He gritted his teeth, his frustration mounting. "And yet, you look at me like you're the one in control. Like you've got something over me."
His fist clenched in a sudden fit of rage, and with a furious roar, he drove it into the boy's stomach. The impact was brutal, the sound of the blow echoing through the deserted building. The boy's body jerked from the force, but not a sound escaped his lips. Another punch followed, then another, then a kick to the ribs. The man's rage boiled over, and he unleashed a relentless torrent of blows, each one more savage than the last.
Blood splattered onto the floor beneath the boy, mingling with the dirt and grime. His body, already marred with old scars, now bore fresh wounds bruises blossomed across his skin, bones cracked under the force of the man's assault. But still, the boy did not scream. He did not beg for mercy. His eyes remained locked on the man's, those cold, defiant eyes that seemed to mock him even as his body was broken and battered.
"Why won't you scream" the man bellowed, his voice cracking with the intensity of his rage. "Why won't you show fear" His voice echoed through the empty space, but the boy's silence was louder, more damning than any words.
The man stepped back, chest heaving, his knuckles raw and bloodied. He wiped the sweat from his brow, glaring down at the boy who lay crumpled on the floor. The boy's breathing was labored, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths, but his eyes… those eyes still burned with that same unyielding defiance, that quiet resolve that refused to break.
"Fine," the man hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "Let's see how long that silence lasts."
He raised his hand, and the air around it crackled with a dangerous energy. The man's lips curled into a cruel smile as he whispered, "Burning Touch." His hand glowed with a fierce red light, a searing heat radiating from his palm. As he pressed it against the boy's chest, the sickening smell of burning flesh filled the room, the boy's skin charring beneath the man's touch. The boy's body tensed, his muscles straining against the pain, but still, he did not scream.
The man's smile faltered, his eyes narrowing in frustration. "Electric Surge!" he growled, his voice laced with venom. Sparks of electricity danced between his fingers before he slammed his hand against the boy's side. The current shot through the boy's body, his muscles convulsing uncontrollably as the electric shock ripped through his nerves. The pain was excruciating, a white-hot agony that threatened to overwhelm his senses, but the boy clenched his teeth, blood seeping from his gums as he fought to keep his silence.
The man's frustration grew with each failed attempt to break the boy's will. His eyes glinted with malice as he whispered his next spell. "Poisonous Thorns." Dark green vines erupted from the man's hand, winding around the boy's arms and legs. The thorns dug deep into his flesh, injecting a vile toxin that spread through his bloodstream like wildfire. The boy's vision blurred, his head spinning as the poison took hold, but even as the venom coursed through his veins, he refused to give the man the satisfaction of hearing him scream.
"You think you can outlast me?" the man snarled, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. "You think you're stronger than me" He could see the pain etched on the boy's face, the blood and burns, the deep gashes, and the sickly green hue of the poisoned wounds. Yet none of it seemed to break him.You think this is a game, don't you he spat, his voice rising in pitch. You think you can just laugh this off
The boy, despite the agony, did laugh. It was a weak, rasping sound, more of a cough than a laugh, but it was enough to make the man's blood run cold. That laugh, that taunting laugh, told him that he had failed. No matter what he did, this boy, this nameless boy, would not break.
The man's eyes flashed with bloodlust. "Alright then. You've brought this upon yourself." He took a step back, his hands moving in a series of intricate gestures. His expression twisted with sadistic glee as he chanted an incantation that seemed to darken the very air around them. "You may not know this, but what I'm about to do… It's forbidden. Only the most depraved of souls would dare to use it. It's called… Crucio."
The room seemed to darken as the words left his lips, the temperature dropping as the spell began to take form. The air grew heavy, almost suffocating, as a black aura enveloped the man's hands, swirling with an ominous energy. "This curse," the man sneered, "is the purest form of agony. It's said that even the strongest minds break within seconds, begging for death.Let's see how long you can keep that defiant look in your eyes.
arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh boy scremed his lungs out
The man released the spell, and the boy's world exploded into pain. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced every nerve in his body screamed in agony as the curse tore through him, as though his very soul was being ripped apart. His muscles seized, his bones felt like they were being shattered and reassembled in an endless cycle of torment. This time, he couldn't hold back the scream that tore from his throat, a sound so raw and filled with agony that it echoed through the empty halls of the rundown building, a testament to the unbearable suffering he was enduring.
The man stood over him, a sadistic smile playing on his lips as he watched the boy writhe in agony. "How does it feel, hmm?" he taunted, his voice dripping with cruelty. "How does it feel to be truly powerless? To be at the mercy of someone stronger than you?"
But even as the curse ravaged his body, the boy's mind fought to hold on. He could feel his consciousness slipping, the edges of his vision darkening as the pain threatened to pull him under. But his ego and will refused to break. He bit down on his tongue, the taste of blood flooding his mouth, grounding him, reminding him that he was still alive. Still fighting.
Sixteen minutes passed, each one an eternity of suffering. The man watched in disbelief, his confidence faltering as the boy continued to endure the unimaginable torment. His breath came in ragged gasps, his hands trembling. He took one shaking step back, then another, until he was pressed against the wall behind him.
The man was shaking with fear. The boy might not know what that spell means, but the man did.
That spell was Crucio
It was forbidden for a reason not because it had side effects on the user, but because no one, not even a devil himself, deserved to feel this kind of pain. Crucio was listed among the top three most tormenting and torturous spells in the entire world.
The spell was so heinous that if anyone was caught using it, they would be punished by death, regardless of who they were, even if they were a heros or even royalty.
The man was mentally exhausted, his entire mana pool drained. But the shock of what had just happened was the biggest of all. He couldn't fathom what kind of willpower or mental strength someone would need to survive even a minute under Crucio let alone more than sixteen minutes.
Looking into the boy's bloodshot eyes, which were now filled with a terrifying killing intent, the man shivered uncontrollably and collapsed to the ground as his legs gave out beneath him, shaking with fear.