//Uh-
Semi descriptive torture, in case anyone doesn't wanna read that?

Sebastian spat out blood onto the dirty floor, his body aching in pain. Cuts of varied depth and length rested all over his body.

Different knives had made each cut. Despite being blindfolded, he still knew which knife did what.

He could almost feel the harsh but delicate slices made, the tip of the knife digging into his skin before it pulled back, and a cut was made...

The stench of blood- his blood- was starting to make Sebastian dizzy. His wrists were probably cut from the shackles he wore, or were hurt in some way.

And yet no matter how much he was threatened, he wouldn't say a word about his boss's plans, nor even his name. He was loyal. Loyal to no end, no matter how much his body was cut, no matter how much of his blood was poured onto the floor and the rest of his body.

Of course, the struggling with his wrists were worth it, his blood making it easier to slip out. And let's just say that someone else's blood was spilled later, once he got a weapon...