From the Witchfinder's Files, Tale II: The Innocent Malice

It seemed to all happen in slow motion, she saw his hand go out and the next thing she felt her head snapping to the side. Its momentum making her slump against the wall, her arm giving way and she slide down a little. She heard herself scream, she could feel almost immediatly the bruise that would be there and groggily she pushed herself back in the corner and looked over just to see the door slamming closed.

Fresh tears streamed down her face as she reached up, her fingers gently touching the now tender area on her cheek and she hissed as even the gentlest of touches sent pain shooting through her.
 
He almost pitied her when he saw her crying as he returned, whip in hand. Then he remembered the insolent answer she had given him, and was all business again as he fixed her with cold eyes.

"Lean against the wall with your arms, and spread your legs wide! I will teach you to talk back to me!"

This was fun! He normally wanted to destroy witches, to eradicate them by tormenting their bodies until they gave up their lies, then to burn them to ashes. This one was different, though. It almost seemed like a game where the goal was to see if he could make her obey him, or if she would remain headstrong. It was clearly less fun for her, but she would have to play, and he had a winning strategy.
 
She cowered in the corner as she saw him and saw what he was holding, "Please no..." she said sobbing. But as he stood there she slowly pushed herself up on her shaky legs. Eventually being brave enough and turning away with him facing the wall as she stood against it. Her face leaning into the cold wall as she tried to stop herself shaking, more tears dripped from as she heard him moving behind her.
 
"You liar!", he hissed as he swung back his whip and made it ready for the first strike, "first you play the strong one who dares to talk back to me, then you start crying when you get the just punishment for your insult. I will double the number of lashes to ten, for trying to sway me with false tears!"

Without a further word, he took aim at her naked back and took a mighty swing, planting the lash across her body with the familiar sharp sound as it hit her skin for the first hit.
 
She had tried to prepare herself but then she felt the stinging pain shoot through her body and her knees gave way, they buckled forward hitting hard into the wall and as she grabbed at the wall to try and steady herself. Though she did not fall completly to the floor eventually, and shaking she pushed herself back up still feeling the stinging pain.
 
He impatiently let the tip of the lash snap a few times as he waited for her to struggle to her feet again.

"Not so defiant anymore, are you? Nine more of these, and you will remember what it means to defy me."

Two more hits in rapid succession cut into her back, each running from one shoulder to the opposite buttock, so that her back now showed two deep red, crossing welts.

She was so weak! Evidently, the torture had thoroughly broken her. That was convenient, but decidedly less fun than he had hoped...
 
Each time she felt the pain her body arched back, she shaked almost uncontrollably and screamed. Barely managing to keep herself standing as her legs visibly shook. Finally after the last one she did collapse onto the floor sobbing and shaking the pain too much for her and she did as best she could not to move at all for everytime she did the pain shot through her.
 
He placed the robe over her naked, shivering body and said, in a quiet voice: "Dumb girl. Look what you get for talking back. If only you were smarter... not as headstrong."

With one last look back at her, he left the cell. He would give her some time to heal, and to digest what had happened. She seemed genuinely frightened, and with any luck, she would not make any trouble anymore. Then again, she had surprised him with her willpower before...
 
Even the touch of the material resting on her made her fresh wounds hurt but she still did not move and just laid there with the robe over her. If it did anything it made her warm up as she laid there on the cold stone floor and slowly the shaking through her body slowed and stopped and the stinging pain changed into a more a throbbing pain and as she lay there motionless it lessened more and more, though anytime she moved even a little her back reminded her to keep still.
 
He was back a few hours later, as he had taken to personally bringing her the food. He intended to eventually delegate this task to his guards, but at the moment, he preferred to personally oversee her training. Not to mention that her survival was still a secret. To everyone aboveground, she had perished under torture, a victim of the unfortunate stubbornness and immunity to pain the devil sometimes saw fit to bestow upon his brides.

"How are you doing?", he asked as he entered, "Any more back talk, or have you finally learned to keep your mouth shut?"
 
She was sitting up the robe wrapped around her and she looked up as he walked in. "My back hurt." she simply said. She watched as he walked over and handed her the tin plate which was piled with food and she reached up taking it and setting it down in her lap she started to eat even as he stood there right in front of her.
 
He was back to his fatherly voice again, though this time he had brought the whip with him in the first place, hoping that its sight would remind her that he did not have to be this kind.

"It does not have to hurt. You were stupid, and talked back to me. Just do what I say, and you will never have to feel this pain again. Oh...and I think you are strong enough to give me some help now. Will you follow me and assist me, or do you need more pain?"
 
Looking at him and then staring more down at the whip. She pulled the robe around her tieing it tight and stood, wincing a little as any movement still sent a little pain through her. She stood, shaking waiting for him, her eyes never leaving the whip in his hand.
 
Like a scared little puppy... pleased at the effects of his discipline, he opened the door and led her out of the cell, towards the torture chamber again. This time, though, she would be there in a different capacity. She would not endure the pain. That would be the role of another poor girl, already chained up there and waiting.
 
Walking out she turned and saw the girl there chained where she had been just a few hours before. Seeing her there brought flashbacks to that time and she stopped for a second before glancing at him and walking on into the room.
 
The girl was the smallest one of the three red-haired sisters. Days in the dungeon had made her even thinner and paler, and she did not dare to look up from her huddled position where the chain kept her secured to the wall.

"You will now learn the secrets of a profession that has been the death of many witches like you. Consider yourself lucky that you will not be one of the dead. You are one of the few fortunates, for you have been chosen to seek other witches. You will live. Are you ready?"; he underlined that question by taking Jayne's wrist and pulling her closer into the room.
 
She gasped a little as she was pulled in and looked over at her chained to the wall, biting her bottom lip she nodded as he spoke to her. Both of her hands were balled into fists and she wanted to look away from the wall as it brought back such vivid memories.
 
He pulled up the cowering girl, who let out a fearful shriek in shock, and touched her wrist to Jayne's hand.

"Your first task is simple: See the spiked chair over there? I want you to lead her over there, so we can secure her to it."

He bent down to release the foot chain of the quivering girl. She had been in the torture chamber for some time, given some opportunity to see the many terrible devices and imagine what they could be used for. Now she knew there was no going back.
 
She watched him as he relased her feet and as he stood back she walked over and as quick as she could released the chain that held her arms together. She glanced back at him before taking hold of her thin arm. She was thankful she did not resist and it seemed an easy enough task to walk her over to the chair. Something she managed to do even without looking at her.
 
He patted his "apprentice" on the back and opened the chair's many restraints, which were bristling with spikes, as was every other conceivable surface of the engine.

"Now help her have a seat."

The girl, meanwhile, still kept her eyes down, apparently trying to disbelieve what was happening to her. There was quiet sobbing, but she made no signs of saying the words that could save her... she was not as afraid as she was trying to seem, in a vain attempt to soften his heart. Not yet, at least.
 
She ignored the patting and just concentrated, turning her around the back of her legs hitting against the chair legs she pushed her back until she was sat back on the seat. Screwing her eyes up not wanting to see her reaction as she first felt the spikes against her skin.
 
He was there with trained routine, closing the straps around her wrists and ankles, and screwing the large, spiked iron bar over her stomach closed. She was in a panic and trying to get away from the chair, but that only drove the spikes on the restraints deeper into her.
 
She took a step back, not wanting to see but she could not stop herself from hearing the screams that suddenly filled the room.
 
He turned from the writhing girl in the chair to the shocked girl who had taken a step back, clearly overwhelmed by the pain she had caused almost as much as the woman in the chair was being overwhelmed by the pain she was receiving.

"You have to get used to this!", he said and roughly grabbed her head to force her to look at her victim.
 
She winced as she felt him pulling on her hair, pulling her head back and she stood there watching. She almost felt herself wanting to tell the girl not to move but she knew she dare not do any such thing and just stood there watching, trying to ignore the cries that were now coming from her.
 
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