King Grey Endurance 1

He turned around and walked away. “Strip him while I get the white phosphorus.”

The larger man sneered as he tore off the old shirt I had worn to bed and the goose-print pajama pants that Headmaster Wilbeck had gotten me as a joke for my birthday.

“I believe you have some information that we need. Fortunately for you, this means that we need you alive for now.” The thinner man came back, wearing gloves. In his hands was a small metal cube. “If you’re truly who we suspect you are, then you might have prepared for this. If by some mistake, we’ve made an error and everything that we considered as evidence was simply coincidence, then…well... you’ll be experiencing something that you’ll never forget.”

“What? What are you talking about?” I said, still bleary from the recent head trauma.

“This will be easy,” the thin man smiled as he dipped a gloved finger into the metal cube. “I won’t even ask you any questions yet.”

He smeared a line of shiny silver paste just below my ribs, and brought out a lighter.

“W-Wait. What are you doing? Please,” I begged, still unable to even process how everything was unfolding.

The man didn’t talk. He just lowered the small flame onto the silver paste. As soon as the fire touched the substance, a pain that I didn’t even know existed erupted.

A scream tore out of my throat as my body convulsed from the searing torment that remained concentrated to where the paste was smeared.

I had gotten burned before, but compared to the sensation eating away at my skin right now, those memories actually felt pleasant.

It seemed like hours as the pain somehow seemed to grow worse. During this time, my screams turned hoarse and the tears that flooded down my face had dried and crusted.

Finally, the pain began to subside, only for the thin man—the demon—to apply another line of the silver paste on a different section of my body.

“P-Please,” I wept. “Don’t do this.”

The man remained silent and lit another hellish fire on my body.

I screamed. My mind screamed.

Every part of my body spasmed and twitched, doing whatever it could to expel this torment but all for naught.

Thoughts questioning whether I was going to die soon turned to thoughts hoping I’d die.

I couldn’t tell how many times the demon sauntered back to me with that wretched silver paste of his, but this time he stood still. He didn’t immediately smear my body with the paste again, but rather just locked eyes with me.

I jumped at this chance. If it meant that I would be free of the pain, I would do anything.