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Another scream ripped through the dungeons, piercing and filled with pain.
"Now, now, you know that screaming won't help you, silly duckling. We've been over this before." Valdemar replied to this, their voice nearly conversational in tone, sounding for all the world like a tired parent speaking to their willful child.
"S-Stop." Julian whimpered helplessly.
"Oh, but we are just getting started." The Quaestor replied. Indeed, they were just getting started, at least for them. Julian was strapped down to a vivisection table, naked and covered in sweat. If one looked closely enough, they'd see tears welling up in the corners of his eyes as well. For once, he was without the eyepatch, leaving the bright red sclera visible. Valdemar made a mental note to go back and extract that perfect specimen once he was done with the rest of the rouge's body.
Speaking of, the once-perfect skin was no more. Instead, a 'Y' shaped incision ran from both of Julian's shoulders, to meet at his sternum, running all the way down to his pelvis. The skin itself was separated from the muscle below it, and the useless flaps were held back by a series of pins along the outside of the incision. Already, the edges of the wound were attempting to heal, a side-effect of the curse. But yet, being held open like this, it was impossible.
A couple further slices from the head physician's scalpel tore apart muscle and connective tissue, pulling another howl from Julian. He thrashed around in his bonds, to little effect. "Do hold still, you're ruining it."
Then, Valdemar's hands were in Julian, his fingers curling into the wounds that he'd made, pulling the muscles out of the way to see what lay beneath. Julian's head snapped back in agony, causing him to hit his head so hard that his vision blacked out for a moment. Another set of pins were put into place, holding the poor bastard open like a frog on a card.
"Please." He gasped breathlessly.
"But I thought you enjoyed pain?" The Quaestor asked, dropping the scalpel down onto a tray that stood beside the vivisection table. The sound of the clinking was nearly a relief for Julian. For the moment at least, he would be able to catch his breath. Even so, dread coiled in his stomach, knowing that things would only get more intense and painful from here on out, having been witness to many previous vivisections himself.
The rowdy creature was saved from having to come up with a response to that by the sound of the dungeon door creaking open, rusted from disuse. He lay back, twitching and panting, muscles twitching, as he tried to calm down. Gods willing, it would be Nadia, coming to put a stop to this madness, or perhaps Asra, coming to rescue him from the insane head physician. Instead, it was Lucio.
Normally, the Count would never dare find his way down to the dungeons, even during the height of the plague with his impatience to find a cure looming over him. Instead, he merely summoned Valdemar to his bedside to inquire about the progress, or more typically, sent a messenger to determine what was happening. Yet, this was a special circumstance, a special patient, and as such, warranted his time and effort coming down to these stinking rooms and dealing with the green-skinned freak.
Against his will, a whimper escaped from Julian, a short, high-pitched sound of dismay and fear. Please, no, anyone but him.
Picking up the sound, despite how small it had been, Lucio grinned. It made him look feral, like a wild animal that would strike at any moment. All of a sudden, Julian regretted the jokes that he had made at the Count's expense, the insults that he had thrown around freely once he thought the bastard was dead and gone.
"Ah, still alive. Tell me, Valdemar, has our little 'guest' told you anything valuable?" The Count asked, practically ignoring the redheaded man strapped to the table.
"No. Still feigning ignorance." The Quaestor punctuated this statement with a sigh.
"I see." Lucio replied, eyebrows drawing together in annoyance. It was amazing the amount of damage that the curse enabled the man to handle before he died. Here he lay, blood pooling around and under him on the table, filleted open like a fish, and still he was breathing. Drawn almost magnetically, the Count drew closer, staring at the exposed bone and organs of the hapless former physician.
Meanwhile, Valdemar took a step back, allowing him more space. Off to the side, the slight tinkling of metal instruments being moved about and handled could be heard as they busied themselves with their tools, giving them an excuse to stay close and stare at the interaction between the two men. The moment that Lucio decided that he was done here, the head physician would be ready to go back to work near immediately.
Lucio's right hand, the normal one, came up slowly. reaching out for Julian's face, causing him to try to jerk back. Entirely out of character, the Count made a poor attempt at a soothing noise, his hand finally laying against the fugitive's cheek, before reaching up to pet his hair. "You know that this could all end if you wanted it to."
Julian leaned into the touch. If you'd asked him even a day ago, he wouldn't willingly seek out contact with his former employer again. In fact, he'd be insulted at the idea at best, and at worst, he would most likely lose his lunch (or coffee). And yet, here he was, preening like a beloved cat at being stoked like this. If the Count was his reprieve, if only temporarily, from torment. "All you have to do is tell us where that worthless magician Asra and his apprentice are."
"I don't know." Julian whispered, voice cracking. He knew that the answer would only serve to further infuriate the Count.
"Oh, but I'm sure you must have some clue. Some idea."
"I don't." He whimpered.
Just like that, Lucio's entire body language changed. The hand that had been stroking at Julian's hair suddenly curled into a fist, cruelly yanking the auburn strands, causing the other man to let out a yelp of pain. "Then, I see no reason to keep you around."
Then, he suddenly let go, causing Julian's head to connect with the hard wooden table under him with a sickening crack. Not for the first time, he saw stars clouding his vision.
"You may proceed, Quaestor."
A smile curling at their lips, Valdemar nodded, picking up another instrument off of their tray of tools. They were back to the side of the vivisection table in a mere moment, before shooting the Count a quizzical look. The Count had not stepped away from the table. "Do you intend on staying?"
"I'm curious to see how long before he breaks."
"....I see. Very well, then I would strongly advise you either take several steps back, or elect to wear protective clothing, as the next part is often... unpleasant."
The Count nodded. The deranged smile was once more on his lips, exposing sharp canines. He took but a step away, wanting to remain close to the action.
If they were a mere ounce more unprofessional, the head physician would have rolled their eyes until they fell out of their skull. If the fool desired to be covered in blood and viscera by the time that this was over, so be it. After all, they had made a point of warning him. Then, they raised up the instrument in their hands, ensuring that Julian would see it.
His face paled noticeably. "No! Anything else, please!"
"Then tell us where Asra is hiding."
"I don't know, just please-" Julian's sentence was cut off in an anguished scream as a sickening crack filled the room. One of his ribs had been snipped clean through by Valdemar's shears. He barely had time to inhale before another snap echoed through the dungeon, ripping another scream from his throat.
Valdemar had a twisted grin on their face. No doubt, this was better than sex or drugs to them. This, this cruel torture, was their drug of choice. Standing a mere foot or two behind the Quaestor, Lucio had a matching grin on his face. They were depraved, the both of them. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were enjoying this."
This offhand statement was punctuated by another four crunching snaps, another four ribs broken, another set of screams. The last one, in particular, sounded particularly concerning, and sounded nearly as if one of his vocal cords had ripped. Now, when Valdemar poked at his intestines, there was only a helpless whimper.
"Pity, we're only half done."
"So finish removing his ribs. I'd like to see if he does indeed have a heart." Lucio snapped.
Another snap later, and Julian's vision finally cut to black.
Sadly, the blessed unconsciousness would not last forever, and eventually, he was forced to rejoin the world of the living.
When he finally came to, the first thing he noticed was the pain in his chest. On a sidetable lay part of his ribcage. Standing over him was Valdemar, a sick glittering in their red eyes. They smiled widely, exposing sharp teeth that would not look out of place on a shark. A few steps away was Lucio, practically salivating over the sight of him.
But then, what reason did the two have not to stare? Flesh and muscle had been pulled apart from the underlying structure. Part of Julian's ribcage had been removed, exposing him more than anyone would've thought possible. From their vantage point, the two villains could see every machination of his body, his heart pumping blood that would spill out of severed veins and vessels, the way his diaphragm moved, the faint twitching of his intestines, and the twitchy rise and fall of his lungs straining. Above it all, the arcane mark on the base of his throat glowed bright white, trying to keep him living.
"Move." Lucio finally said, brushing aside the Courtier almost like nothing. Annoyed, Valdemar stepped back, perching delicately on the next vivisection table, curious to see what possible torment Lucio would be able to come up with worse than what they had already done.
"I'd advise you to tell me where that magician went, Jules. Otherwise, I can't promise you that I won't get carried away. After all, you look delicious like this." To drive this point home, Lucio's metal claw sank into the writhing intestines on display. Julian let out a helpless whimper as the man above him wrapped that metal hand around something inside of him.
"Still playing mute, are we? That's fine, we can always change that." His human hand flew to his waist, unbuttoning his pants. Julian made a noise of dismay. The Count was apparently enjoying his torment, if the hard cock he'd just exposed was anything to go by.
Grey eyes flickered around the dungeon in fear. This was just a plot at getting him to speak. Wasn't it? It had to be. Lucio was known for being a cruel man, but surely he couldn't be this cruel? His eyes landed on the head physician, who was pointedly ignoring his stare. Instead, they were staring directly at what was about to happen on one of their vivisection tables. Instead of looking disgusted, instead they were... excited?
Without further ado, Lucio clambered onto the table, finally removing his hand from inside Julian's body. His relief at this, however, would be short-lived, as the claw went to wrap around his throat, slick with blood.
"Just sit back and try to enjoy it, it's going to happen either way." Lucio said, nearly laughing at this. Then, he was sliding his member into Julian's exposed abdominal cavity, causing him to let out a wail. What it lacked in pain, at least compared to having his ribs snapped like toothpicks, it more than made up for in humiliation. While he'd definitely heard of being fucked so hard that it rearranged your guts, he sincerely doubted that this was what they meant by it.
A particularly sharp thrust from Lucio sent a fresh wave of pain coursing through his abused body, making him squeak, or at least, try to. The hand around his throat was tight enough that he couldn't make a single sound, let alone breathe. Tears welled up in his eyes, before spilling down the sides of his face. This was the absolute last thing that he'd expected. This was... This was excessive, to say the least.
"Such a fucking whore." Lucio murmured, barely audible above the sickening squelching sounds that filled the dungeons. This caused a tiny, high-pitched whimper from Julian. Sure, he knew of his reputation, but to be reminded of it again, in such a compromising position, was nearly as painful as the physical torment that he was being put through.
There was only one way that this could be made any worse, and the depraved Count was certainly going to make this worse. With a groan, he spilled his seed deep into the former plague doctor, coating exposed intestines with cum, before nearly collapsing on the other man in a boneless heap, coating his clothing with blood.
Off to the side, Valdemar rolled their eyes. This was exactly why they had warned the Count that protective clothing was a necessity. Not that they'd assumed that he would be insane enough to fuck an open wound.
"Now, Jules, you can be a good boy and tell me where Asra and his meddling Apprentice have disappeared off to, and I can have the good doctor put you back together again. Or, you can continue to defy me, and I'll have them leave you here, just like this, for me to come visit whenever I please."
"Nevivon." Julian whispered, voice hoarse.
"But I thought you didn't know where they went? Or is this your best guess based off what you were told."
A shaky nod.
"Very well. Quaestor, if you'd be so kind as to patch him up and find him a cell somewhere down here? Oh, and Jules, if it turns out that those two aren't in Nevivon, I'll make sure that whatever I do to you will make this seem like a day at the spa."