Je Ne Regrette Rien

Suggested Listening: Surrender by Entwine (I LOVE this song, and some of the lyrics fit ^_^ or so I seem to think...)

Chapter 5: Crave

He woke to a terrible aching pain that was rooted deeply within his stomach. A gnawing sensation so horrible he felt like something was eating him from the inside out. He knew what this was.

It was merely the beginning. It would get worse. It would subside for a while only to come back full force. It was humiliating. It kept him on his knees. It kept him weak.

It kept him manageable. And more importantly. It was torturing him.

It was so hard to keep his mind thinking, working, doing something. The worse the sensations got, the more he felt his mental capabilities slipping. The more his mind focused only on the pain instead of the things that should matter.

Like keeping his mouth shut. Not showing fear. Not reacting to them in any form. Keeping himself alive. Though the last rested more in their hands than his.

He was pitiful, he knew. Laying on the cement, curled in the fetal position, clutching his stomach. Trying to stop the pain. They gave him water, but no food. They gave him lots of water that did nothing more than make the hunger grow.

He knew what would be coming next. It was what would always come next after the torture began.

The moment the doors opened, after god knew how long without food, he cracked his eyes open lazily.

They had brought the laptop.

“Get up we know you are awake.” he ignored them. He had no intention of helping them at all. He would be defiant to his last breath.

He could feel the sneering eyes upon him, daring him to disobey. He didn't move.

“Stay there then. You'll be moving soon enough.” he heard the not so gentle taps on the keyboard and knew they were recording. They had said they weren't going to broadcast any more videos live for a while; that the next one would be released after they had moved again.

Each time a video was shot they would move. He knew though, that if he lived long enough, they would run out of places to run to. And then they would be caught.

The door opened once again and an oddly sweet smell filled the air. He lifted his weary head, eyes open. “There we go, like an animal deprived of food, his sense of smell has grown stronger.”

Food.

His body twitched and he uncurled himself to get a better view.

No! his mind screamed.

His mind said one thing, his body another. “So detective, will you beg for your food?” he froze, in a half seated position, as if finally realizing what he was doing.

He opened his mouth and gave a soft, scratchy cough before answering. “No. I'd rather starve.” the man before him laughed.

“You say that now, but you will cave. Your primal survival instinct will override your senses and make the decision for you.” his fists clenched tightly by his sides. The man was right. His mind was already wearing thin.

And the food, oh god it smelled so good, being so close to him would make him snap eventually. He had long ago realized he was weak, that he wouldn't be able to hold out against this torture. The others yes, but his body had already been weak in this way before they had taken him.

He had been doomed to failure from the start.

Just like always.

He knew they would keep recording until they got the desired reaction out of him. That they would edit all the data to make it fit into one video, make it look like he had cracked sooner than he actually had.

They moved the food closer to him over the next few hours, or maybe it was days. He couldn't tell. All he could concentrate on was the smell. They would take it away every once and a while, presumably to swap it out with a new one or simply reheat it.

It was some sort of pastry, covered with a sugary glaze.

The sugar would give him energy, help him think- no. He couldn't give in...

He wouldn't.

But he eventually did.

He hated to do this, hated to think that these lowlifes had bested him. But he just couldn't concentrate anymore, all he could think about was the food. And it wasn't even in thoughts, it was smell. Imaginary taste, touch, the possible texture of the food.

“You win...” he whispered, but they had caught it. He couldn't see their faces, but he could feel their smiles.

“What was that?” the second one, a woman, asked.

“I said you win. I want... I need... please let me eat.” he bowed his head, letting his hair hide his expression; he didn't want the camera to record it. He didn't want him to see it.

“I don't know, it doesn’t really sound like you want it.” the woman stated, laughter in her voice.

He had long ago given up his dignity, why not his pride too?

He forced himself onto his knees and began to crawl over to them, the lone manacle on his left foot dragging behind him. He must look pathetic, worn out, mangy. And only after so few days.

Or had it been longer than he'd thought?

His body just couldn't take it. He felt his arms quiver and more than once they almost gave out holding his weight.

“Please...?” his shoulders shook with effort though he knew they mistook it for a sign of tears.

“Good boy.” the man laughed and patted his head like he were a dog. But when the food was set down on the floor, he ate like one. Shoveling the food into his mouth so quickly he could hardly taste anything more than the creamy topping.

Ravenous, would be the word to describe the way he felt afterwards. It had taken the slightest edge off the hunger but now... now he craved more.

It was worse then when he hadn't eaten, because now his body fought back more. Told him more viciously, that it needed something he couldn't have.

“Is everyone watching this? This will happen to all of you who stand in our way. We will slowly break you. We will destroy you. And then we will rewrite justice. We are coming for you L.”

The laptop was shut down and the recording stopped for now. He knew that in barely a day it would be sent worldwide. And then the news would eat it up, like it had before, it would play his humiliating display over and over again until a new tape was made.

Had it been worth it, to... crack? He wasn't broken, far from it. But his control had slipped. He had slipped.

“Now that this is over, we can feed you again. We can't have you dying on us too soon. There are big plans for you, that is unless you want to tell us everything you know?” the woman asked.

He shook his head. He would either be rescued, or he would die. But he would not tell them a single damn thing.

He would never, could never, betray them like that.

“Pity. The next set is going to leave you wishing you had.” with that the woman and man took their leave from the room.

The door clicked shut and he was once again left alone. His eyes were cast to the floor and he didn't bother to stop the tears of frustration that fell.

-End Crave-

AN: I do enjoy my torture it seems.... hehe. I did say it would be different from the previous installments.......

Review please?