Forgotten Minds

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Chapter 9: Tortured To Death Day Two

With a confused mind, I hear the door screeching. I see the light flashing in my eyes. My red spot where I have channeled my pain into has disappeared and I now feel the full power of the mechanism under my chair. The impulses are now directed at my heart and I can feel the pain in my chest. I have the sense of an emotion, a sense of fear. That undermine the faith system that I have created during the long dark spell, my night.

My body shiver under the intensity of the impulses, under the attack from electrons. Eyes are now staring at me cut into my weaknesses, tapping into my energy.

I start the affirmations again.

“The power of the Universe run through me.”

“The power of the Universe run through me,” I repeat in deep thought.

Hands are now fiddling around my testicles.

Crocodile clamps are removed it stops the electric shocks from during the night. Once again warm liquid, that I have no control, over run down me inner legs.

The large man brings the hours old stew to me. He places it in front of my mouth so that I can eat it like a dog.

My tongue curls around a chunk of meat and place it between my teeth and start chewing. The taste that fills my mouth if foul. It tastes like the breath of the large man, the taste now pushes to my nose and it reminds me of the intestines that the hyenas carried over the rocky surface.

With the food plate now gone and replace by the face of the large man, the breath of death. I hear his words,

“We try again,”

“Who the fuck are you”, he slams the words on the wind of death towards me, words that ride through the hollow passages of my tired mind.

I hear the words. I understand the words. But I struggle to comprehend to find the right chamber where the words will be answered.

I can hear the men now talking, they talk Portuguese. I know that I should be able to follow their conversation, but my mind refuses to hear. Refuse to translate, once again I can hear but I cannot understand. A feeling that became so familiar since I arrived in this small windowless room.

One of the smaller men turn around and leave the room, leaving me with the large faceless man and the other well build African man. My eyes dwell for a brief moment over the smaller man’s face and I see a scar below his ear, a scar that probably originated from a knife.

My eyes return to the door as the other man return with more devices, more wires, and more crocodile clamps.

I feel too tired to investigate the devices in his hands. I am too tired to predict my new day and the possible torture that I will endure.

My mind rests with the fact that I will soon understand these devices. I will soon understand the words that they have uttered.

The breath of death is back in my face, the hollow evil eyes are staring into my mine. I hear how my mind forms the affirmations again, how my ears close for the new verbal assault that will soon explode into my ears.

“The power of the Universe flow through me,” I shout into his ugly face. I see how my blood filled saliva explode against his forehead.

His large sausage fingers grab my throat again, lifting me and the chair of the ground.

“You fuckin what,” I hear his voice vibrating against my face.

I repeat the affirmation out loud.

The chair hanging on my arms and testicles smash with force into the cement floor.

His face is now at my level before he starts whispering again.

“Mr. Universe, today you will die by my hands,” He laughs.

I pull my head back from his stinky voice and swings it with force forward. My forehead explodes into his nose. Blood splatter over my chest and the ugly face in front of me.

His body stagger back and his knees buckle for a second.

“Boceta Porra,” he shouts through his teeth before he grabs the chair and lifts me from the ground again. Wild eyes stare at me before he smashes his bloody head into my face. I feel the dull pain in my skull. See the flash before my eyes. Hear the metal chair hitting the concrete.

“I share the power of the Universe,” I say while staring at the ceiling-less roof. I am lying on my back after the head assault.

His large hands grab the chair and raise my naked body and chair again. This time he keeps his vulture breath away from me.

He doesn’t say anything but indicates with his head to scare-face.

Large crocodile clamps bite into the tender skin of my testicles. Compression of the springs compresses my manhood. Pain shoot through my pubic area to a small cramp in my lower abdomen.

“Pain is only a fragment of my imagination,” I scream my assertion into the room.

Over the dark patches in my vision I see the electric cord plugged into the wall, an electric court leading to the new device that the small man brought into the room.

The other end of the clamp attached to my testicles is now thrown into a metal bowl of water under my chair. He now attaches the second clamp to my left nipple and once again the clamp tear into the bare scars of my tender hide. This clamp is attached to the machine. I can hear how the last clamp from the machine is now clamped to the metal bowl under my chair.

“Now we test,” he laughs while sending the small man with a hand gesture to the switch.

“I am part of the Universe,” I repeat my first affirmation out loud.

Laughing fills the room.

He gestures with his head to the smaller man at the switch.

“I am part…”

My abdomen cramps up.

Testicles explode with a pain that expands out of the core of my body.

My heart race and bounce into my throat.

My eyes lose the ability to see.

I feel how death creeps through my veins.

It is now all gone.

The electricity switch is off.

“Today you will die, by my hands”, I hear the voice vibrating against eardrums that do not want to hear.

His voice fills the air again, but this time it is like noises from a nightmare.

I feel his anger, his frustration.

Warm liquid flows from my ear as his left-hand blast against my face. The liquid that I did not think I had left in my dehydrated body.

An evil laugh a laugh that cling against my spine is now filling the air, a laugh that originates from my own chest.

The switch flip and electricity flows through my body.

Contractions from hell rip through my soul.

Urine flows uncontrollably over the barely ripped skin of my testicles.

The switch flips again and the agony disappear.

“Who the fuck are you?” the large black man scream again into my ear.

“Suck my dick,” I hear my voice reply. Not the reply I wanted to give.

Hands fold again around my throat. This time it flings me across the room like a rag. My head hit the corner of the floor against the wall. The chair still attached to me land on top of me. I feel the pain where the crocodile clips tore the skin.

“I am part of the universe,”

“I am part of the universe,” I hear how my voice raises from the terrible position that I now find myself in.

I cannot help but to respecting the power of the man that swing me across the room.

I cannot understand the challenge that my mind is uttering in this desperate situation.

Words, I will probably swallow during the day.

The impact against the wall threatens my consciousness.

Darkness now captures my vision and I feel how my body drift to freedom. It slips to the skies and the elephants walking the savannas.

For a second my mind slip away;

Dark is the room that I have entered. The light is blocked with heavy curtains. Candlelight on the table enlightens the vision in my eyes. I see a dark red flower on the pot plant next to the table. The flower bends over and turns his face to me. I hear a whisper from the door, a door engraved with nails. With scratches that cry in witness of abuse, my eyes now squint to find the whispering voice. To find the lips that utter it, but the wooden door is the only witness the only figure that my eyes can find.

I feel how my torso bend as hands from hell grabs my testicles through the wooden floor. Hands that squeeze and scratch, until pain release the water, the urine from my groin.

Water hitting my dry lips and face brings me back to the room. Back, to the metal chair now in the middle of the room. Back, to the large man and his two smaller assistants.

“Switch it on,” the large man laugh.

I hear the laugh of hell rolling over my lips.

“We will test your laugh,” he continues, while he laughs from his stomach

The smaller man bends over the machine, his hands' fiddle with the large knob. His finger moves to the switch.

It is as if a cricket ball hit me between the legs. I feel how my testicles shrink into the cavities of my flesh. How my nipple burn and how the current contract my stomach muscles to the point that it want to tear from my ribs.

I smell the flesh burning. He turns the dial up a notch and I feel how my testicles are now in a steel clamp that increases pressure by the second.

My body is pulling into a bundle riddled with pain.

Pain inflicted by my own contracting muscles.

“It works,” he starts, as the small man switch it off.

“Now we must work,” I hear his voice but the pain in my testicles and stomach dim the words.

It dims the words to a gesture of a noise.

Still, in the bundle, I feel how my heart race in my chest. How my stomach muscles remain in a contraction, my testicles remain in a clamp.

Pain shoots into my lower abdominal area into my kidneys, an internal pain that I cannot describe. My eyes are desperately looking for a spot a spot where I can transfer this pain too. But before I can find it he flicks the switch on and off. The short burst of current increase the pain the contractions. It turns my search for a spot into my own lap.

This moment in time that my words will always fail to describe.

I can hear questions that are shouted at me.

I can feel hands assaulting my face.

See the small knife again sinking under the nail of my toes, but I do not register. I am still battling to release my contraction. The pain in my muscles and testicles overpower the small knife under my toenail.

I cannot feel it, but I force a scream of agony out.

Hopefully, it will change their approach from an electrical to a more physical torture. But the switch flick again, and again. My legs are now joining the spasms. I feel how my back start to arch and crack under the pressure of my own muscles.

My nerve system becomes exposed to the brutal assault.

Every time they flip the switch my heart rate increase. I can feel it bouncing against my chest bones. Feel the erratic rhythm, and then it calm down as the electricity leaves my body.

The torture continues for approximately an hour before they take a break. Switch the light off to let me sleep.

Just to return within a few minutes to start again and again and again.

I try to build my mental strength up during the breaks.

Try to order my cramping muscles to relax, but the breaks are too short.

My system becomes weaker. Weakness becomes my master. My breakpoint becomes closer and closer with every session. My drive to survive become smaller and smaller.

We are now entering the eighth session. I cannot endure anymore. I cannot think of any reason to live any longer, of any drive that will keep my soul captured into this aching body.

“I have to transfer my mind to a place where pain does not exist.”

“To a place, where water is flowing over rocks and where elephants are bathing.”

I feel how my eyes are crying, how they shed waterless tears. How my heart aches with an emotion that I do not recognize. I miss days and places that I did not have or see before.

I long for love from my soul.

Love that will sooth me, that will embrace my heart.

I miss myself, my conversations the arguments, I miss the hunger that I felt while I was hunted, but most of all I miss love.

My breaking point is close.

The time to leave this broken body behind has arrived. My fight is over and I have lost.

With these thoughts, my body drift into a valley of darkness a valley that I do not know. Cold icy hands clamp over my heart over my cramping muscles.

I feel how my breathing slows down, how my heart rate become slower and slower. The sweat that now runs cold over the palms of my hands, sweat that does not exist.

My feet feel cold and the voices and questions in the room have stopped entering my ears.

My conscious mind has left me, left me alone and exposed to questions and impulses that my sub-conscious do not understand.

My mind plays movies in my mind, pictures flash through my soul.

My soul hangs confused on the ceilings, ceilings that do not really exist in my mind.

The external world is now leaving my senses, my body, and my soul. I am without a place in the sane world that I know, a world that I thought was the truth. But now it seems farfetched, far removed from reality, my mind bounce away;

I see water flowing, weeping willows hanging with their arms in the blue clear water. There is a concrete chair next to one of the willows with only one person sitting on it. Her red dress flows over the concrete and drifts with colors into the blue of the river. Above the lady I see a little bird, a black bird, flying towards me. His beak filled with small razor sharp teeth, teeth from a horror movie. The bird is now diving onto me and fly straight to my genitals, straight to the pain invested area. I feel how my legs respond, how they drive me towards the lady with the red dress, to the concrete chair under the willows. I see how the water swallows the red dress, how the dress and the lady change the color of the water to an orange muddy color.

There is now hundreds of blackbirds leaving the willow trees, hundred teeth monsters flying towards me. Towards my testicles, my bruises, the willows are now gray and dead. The green grass changes to rocky sand, the river to a cracked clay bed. The blue skies are clouded and lightning flash into the dead willows. Flames indulge the willows and burn them to ash.

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