Torture Novels & Stories

he chuckled, “And the only bitch here, is you.” The screams that coach let out were shrill, piercing my eardrums as they echoed around the expanse of the room. Torture is a part of life. Whether it be us, torturing ourselves, or the need to torture others. Physically, mentally, emotionally, we choose to either subject ourselves to the necessary evil, or project it onto someone else. The sight of his blood dripping down onto the dry wood of the pew should have sickened me, but I find pleasure in his torture.

I stepped out of the toilet, still thinking about her, and tied my towel around my waist, wandering inside my room. I can't understand why an ordinary girl who doesn't belong to any outfits or gang can be so strong and stubborn, I personally checked her body for any signs of initiation but there were none, I've tortured this girl for four days without food and water, I've used almost 70 percent of my torturing weapons but she hasn't said one thing about her family, even the made men do not go through this kind of torture before becoming Made men, the only reason I haven't cut her limbs is because I don't want her to bleed to dea

But imagining Anne in that situation? That was enough to make my vision pulse. "You know," I said, standing up and stretching my neck, "you might actually be the dumbest of your little trio. Do you even know what the purpose of torture is?" He blinked, confused. "It's not just pain," I continued, pulling the baton from my jacket. "It's about psychological disintegration. Short-term agony for long-term obedience. So tell me—do you think you'll repent in time?" "F-Fuck y—!"

I needed someone to save me. For the first week, I prayed for help while I received punches and slaps. He pulled my hair and dragged me across the concrete floors. Slapping me everytime I ignored and didnt listen. He knew I could take his hits, I was becoming numb as the days went by and the colder the nights became. He wanted to make me feel pain, but I couldnt. That was not until the second week. He started burning me with cigerettes. He would push my face into the wet cold floor and put them out on my arms, legs and even on my cheek. I didnt think it could became worse but it did, when he started to tazed me. It hurt so bad and my skin was burning like a marshmellow. As the

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But Not The Day I Met You chapter 3But Not The Day I Met You chapter 2But Not The Day I Met You chapter 1

"Look. The Lord has seen her repenting and has punished her." Torture at the college was systematic. Monday was designated for purifying one's sense of taste. Sophie had to kneel and drink holy water mixed with glass shards at 5:00 am. In the afternoon, she had to swallow earthworms alive because they were supposed to consume everything dirty in one's soul.

Even after six months I still smell the cow dung. My eyes grow hot as tears threaten to spill out of my eyes. I fight to keep them at bay because I know from experience that crying never makes anything better. While some torturers like to see their victims in tears, wailing on the floor and begging for mercy; mine… they like to see me try to control the pain. They like it when my jaw is clenched, my teeth are grinding and the veins in my neck pop out so hard it looks like they’re ready to pop.

She knows all kind of physical tortures starting from blinding with light, boiling, bone-breaking, branding, castor oil, castration, Chinese water torture, and cold cell torture. It doesn't stop here though. There's more! Combing, crucifixion, crushing, cutting, dehydration, derailing, disfigurement, drowning, dry-boarding, dunking, enemas, flagellation, flaying, foot roasting, foot whipping aka bastinado, force-feeding, garotte or strangling, genital mutilation or forced circumcision, hamstringing, hypothermia, impalement, jetliner position, keelhauling, selling in the sunset, menial, mutilation.

Little did they know that I would give anything to unravel the mystery of her whereabouts. The torturers circled me like vultures closing in on their prey. Their words cut through the air like sharpened blades, each syllable meant to dismantle my resolve. They employed every method known to man, physical and psychological, seeking to extract the information they craved. The pain seared through my body, amplifying the fury within me. I refused to yield.

Ivory gasped angrily and she used her remaining strength to launch an attack on Keya but unfortunately Adger used ice element to throw her away and she flew like a piece of rag. ‘Arghh’ Ivory groaned in pain as more blood gushed out of her body. A high grade cell is where the harshest method of torturing usually occurs and it is aimed at giving the person a slow death and a low class brothel is where beggars can even sleep with women for two copper coins, even two copper coins can’t buy an apple. ‘Pathetic’ Adger glanced at her with a look of disdain ‘to think you’re next chosen great witch, and you are defeated like a fly, go die’

Torture devices. “You will tell us who sent you. And you WILL tell us what exactly it is that you want…” Mal shed his jacket and white button-up shirt, leaving him in just his black slacks and undershirt. He held up a cattle brand while a blow torch heated the metal to a glowing golden orange. “FUCK. YOU. YOUR HIGHNESS.” the rogue woman spat out, blood pouring from her sadistic smile. “I don’t fuck trash.” Mal thrust the brand into the woman’s inner thigh. The screeching made Claire slam her hands over her ears.