Isaac hurt everywhere.
He was chained to a cold wall in a cold dungeon, naked. He’d been punched and kicked and thrown against the wall with magic, and he was covered in bruises.
The fight between the chosen one and the Sorcerer King hadn’t ended the way the stories had said it was supposed to. And now here Isaac was, a prisoner.
Sam hadn’t really monologued at him yet, too busy whipping Isaac as hard as he could, the whip raining down on Isaac’s face, arms, his chest. Isaac screamed, but it didn’t matter. Sam just kept going it, silent. Well, not silent, just not talking. Sometimes he snorted, or giggled. He wasn’t much of a talker. Isaac would have liked him better if he were a talker.
It took Isaac a second to notice that the whip had stopped, because the pain didn’t. Sam crouched in front of him, tilting Isaac’s face up, and a zap like electricity ran through Isaac, pulling out another scream. And then his injuries were gone, healed all at once. “Feel better?” Sam asked, voice teasing.
Isaac didn’t. “You don’t have to do this,” he managed to say.
Sam laughed at him, then gave Isaac a rough kiss, his tooth cutting Isaac’s lip. “No, but you do. Welcome to the end of your freedom, chosen one. Or maybe I should just call you slave.”
Isaac shook his head. “You won’t…” He wouldn’t what? Get away with it? He already had.
Sam slammed his head against the wall, dazing him. “Sure I will,” Sam said, kicking Isaac in the balls, sending more pain through Isaac’s entire body. “I’ll do whatever I want, for the rest of your life. Get used to it.” He kicked Isaac again, then stepped back.
“Stop,” Isaac begged.
“No. I’m going to go eat lunch and then we’re going to rape you for the rest of your day. Get ready.”
Isaac struggled against his chains, but they bit into his wrists and ankles, and he couldn’t move. Sam left, the door slamming shut. Isaac could hear him laughing as he walked away.
He’d left Isaac here instead of just raping him now because he wanted Isaac to think about it, to worry over it, to torture himself with what was coming. Isaac knew that, he knew that was Sam’s plan.
And it was working. Because Isaac knew that his pain was only just beginning.