Torture scene.

[Colbey Frost]

Kind of torture scene. I've been writing a more pg story, so needed to get some fustration out and visit some old characters. The main reason I've posted this is just to get some ideas on if my writing has improved? I've worked on grammar etc, getting rid of passive voice and wanted to know if it has worked.

Thanks in advance.

Torture scene.

Equilibrium licked his lips as he looked down upon the new slave. Holding the boy’s face in his hand, Equilibrium jerked it from side to side.

“You’ll do,” Equilibrium said. “I’ve not tried it on someone so young before, but you’ll do.”

“Tried what?” said the boy as Equilibrium released his grip.

The slave looked over his shoulder as if to escape, but another man entered the room, blocking his exit.

“Did you manage to find one?” Equilibrium said to the man.

“Yes I did Master,” said Vulgaris, closing the door behind him.

Vulgaris looked just as sheepish as the slave, and his pale skin did nothing to flatter an already weak physique. Equilibrium grabbed the boy by the throat and raised him into the air. He could feel the windpipe, hard against his palm. The boy struggled, but Equilibrium turned and in one fluid motion threw the boy onto a nearby table. Sharp blades and chains scattered to the floor having been replaced by Equilibrium’s fresh meat.

“Remember when you were like that, Vulgaris?” said Equilibrium.

“I do,” said Vulgaris rushing from door to table.

“Please don’t kill me,” said the boy.

“I’m not going to kill you,” said Equilibrium. “I’m going to turn you into an instrument of the gods. Why does everyone always think their going to die?”

“I heard the screams last night… men, women, animals? Why are you so evil?”

“Evil? Evil?!” Equilibrium could not believe his ears. How anyone could see his work as evil remained beyond his comprehension.

Helping Vulgaris pin the boy to the table, Equilibrium picked the stray equipment from the floor. As Vulagris flipped the slave onto his front, Equilibrium bound his malnourished legs and arms. Tied to the table and unable to move, the boy screamed out in frustration. Equilibrium saw Vulgaris’ eyes move towards a gag that lay to one side, but Equilibrium kicked him in the shin for being soft.

“Go get the beast,” said Equilibrium and Vulgaris limped from the room.

With a smile etched across his face, Equilibrium had the troublesome task of deciding which blade would better suit the boy’s skin.

“I’m going to turn you into an angel,” said Equilibrium.

“I don’t want to be an angel,” said the boy sobbing. “I want my mum. Please let me go.”

“Your mum is dead. You heard her screaming last night did you not?”

“Lies!” the boy said, banging his face against the blood stained table.

“Yes, she pleaded for your life, Rafe. Your name is Rafe isn’t it?”

“No, it’s Abra!”

“Oh, maybe I didn’t kill your mum then… not yet anyway.”

“You’re sick,” said Abra.

“No, I’m a god amongst men. And I must have my army.”

Behind him, Vulgaris kicked the door open and turned to walk in backwards. As he got closer, Equilibrium could see the two large feathered wings that Vulagris dragged into the room. Dark blood trailed his servant and Equilibrium grimaced at the thought of his halls being spoilt.

“Why do you have to be so mucky, Vulgaris?” said Equilibrium. “You should’ve brought the beast with you, like I said.”

“I’m sorry Master, but I wasn’t strong enough,” said Vulgaris.

“Go clean it up.”

“Now?”

“Yes now, you piece of ****,” Equilibrium said. He didn’t bother to watch Vulgaris leave, but he heard the door close.

Beautiful, the wings remained white and most of the blood slid off the waterproof feathers. Leaving the wings for just a short moment, Equilibrium turned to Abra and marked his back with a vertical, bloody line from the top of each shoulder blade, to the bottom.

Abra’s body began to sweat and Equilibrium breathed in the sweet smell of fear that gathered in the boy’s trousers. Wanting to keep Abra going, Equilibrium stuck the blade deep into his flesh. The boy’s body tensed, but Equilibrium left it just long enough for the muscles to relax before dragging the blade back down the line. Again, Abra’s body seized up and tears mixed with blood as he continued to hit his head against the solid wood.

Moving onto the other line, Equilibrium did the same again. He stood admiring the gashes. Bone jutted from the holes and Equilibrium grabbed one of the wings Vulgaris had brought him. Placing the wing in the cradle between his forearm and his bicep, Equilibrium tried to guide the bloody end into the left wound on Abra’s back.

Unable to slide in the wing, Equilibrium forced it in. The skin tore and Abra went limp. Quick, quick, Equilibrium thought as he fumbled with a pouch on his belt with the other arm. The pouch came free and he emptied a thick white glitter onto the table. Bright and pure, the substance bathed the room in light. Equilibrium scooped up some and rubbed it into Abra’s wound. The wing and boy’s body began to fuse together and Equilibrium could see the white energy travel through the boy’s veins.

Doing the same with the other wing, Equilibrium untied Abra, but rather than be rough, or harsh with him, he loved him. Gentle hands put Abra to rest and Equilibrium prayed to Sta’Veysa that he would survive. Now, Abra became Equilibrium’s son, and the first of many holy warriors. Just don’t mutate, don’t let Vek’Koros take you boy, Equilibrium thought.

 

[Nik]

It's a lot less graphic than I feared, but I lack the detachment to critique it...

FWIW, I've a would-be novel stuck at novelette stage because, weeks down the line, the hero must torture a captive unto apparent insanity as the alternative to a slower, and much more dreadful death. I just could not write it.

 

[Colbey Frost]

It's a lot less graphic than I feared, but I lack the detachment to critique it...

FWIW, I've a would-be novel stuck at novelette stage because, weeks down the line, the hero must torture a captive unto apparent insanity as the alternative to a slower, and much more dreadful death. I just could not write it.

I must admit the title name may be wrong... considering he isnt even tortured... ha.

I dont know whats wrong with me... when i post stuff up for critique all the blood rushs to my head and i do stupid things... ho hum.

About your story, why dont you be very brief with this bit, even bullet point it and continue with the rest of you book? Then go back to it?

 

[chrispenycate]

The boy doesn't react like one born to slavery. He answers back to his betters, basically reacts like a modern kid from a democracy. I'd expect screaming and attempts to escape, or bite captors, but not such reasoned dialogue.

I wonder if you could physically lift someone by the throat, and throw them, and leave them capable of talking. Not only the risk of breaking the neck, but there's nothing to grip but the larynx, and that would constitute a fairly effective conversation stopper.

Why does everyone always think their going to die?”

They're

“Tried what?” said the boy as Equilibrium released his grip.

The slave looked over his shoulder as if to escape, but another man entered the room, blocking his exit.

Those two sentences don't follow very well.

“Yes I did Master,”

Comma after "did".

Vulgaris looked just as sheepish as the slave, and his pale skin did nothing to flatter an already weak physique.

Why would Vulgaris look sheepish? In fact, why would the slave look sheepish?

Sharp blades and chains scattered to the floor having been replaced by Equilibrium’s fresh meat.

Nice picture, but could be better written.

“I do,” said Vulgaris rushing from door to table.

Comma after "Vulgaris".

Helping Vulgaris pin the boy to the table, Equilibrium picked the stray equipment from the floor.

How does he manage to do both?

the two large feathered wings that Vulagris dragged into the room.

Typo (although I rather like "Vulagris")

Doing the same with the other wing, Equilibrium untied Abra, but rather than be rough, or harsh with him, he loved him.

I don't think "loved" is the right word here. Not only because the emotion does not prevent one from harming the love object – almost as much pain has been inflicted in the name of love as that of religion – but because it suggests sexual interest, while here it's closer to parental.

 

[RJM Corbet]

It's a lot less graphic than I feared, but I lack the detachment to critique it...

FWIW, I've a would-be novel stuck at novelette stage because, weeks down the line, the hero must torture a captive unto apparent insanity as the alternative to a slower, and much more dreadful death. I just could not write it.

I do agree, although horror is a valid sub-genre of SFF, I wonder if Christian is going to attract many crits of his work with the title 'Torture Scene' in these forums. You can actually ask the mods to let you change the title?

I also think that the dialogue, particularly, needs tightening up in such a tense, unpleasant situation as encountered here, Christian. But entirely my own take. Otherwise it's very good, the humour, the description, the skinny boy, the magical crystals glowing in the dark horrible room, the bloody, amputated (?) wings, etc. But I still think it needs tightening.

Dick Francis, for instance, is expert at this sort of thing -- horror in the midst of civility, a few terse sentences, leaving most to the reader's imagination ...

 

[ctg]

Equilibrium licked his lips as he looked down upon the new slave. Holding the boy’s face in his hand, Equilibrium jerked it from side to side.

“You’ll do,” Equilibrium said. “I’ve not tried it on someone so young before, but you’ll do.”

“Tried what?” said the boy as Equilibrium released his grip.

I understand that you're trying to make him appear as one sick individual, but the beginning, especially these three paragraphs distant the reader. I personally cannot get a good grip from the story as I thought there's something missing in the first para. Maybe that is the little bit of inner monologue that would have fixated me into the POV, and I say that as I move to the first dialogue line, I am no longer in his head, but actually quite far away from him. The feeling is almost as if you wanted the reader to be a fly-on-the-wall at this point.

Additionally I think the beginning works better without the highlighted bit.

The slave looked over his shoulder as if to escape, but another man entered the room, blocking his exit.

POV!

“Did you manage to find one?” Equilibrium said to the man.

“Yes I did Master,” said Vulgaris, closing the door behind him.

Vulgaris looked just as sheepish as the slave, and his pale skin did nothing to flatter an already weak physique. Equilibrium grabbed the boy by the throat and raised him into the air. He could feel the windpipe, hard against his palm. The boy struggled, but Equilibrium turned and in one fluid motion threw the boy onto a nearby table. Sharp blades and chains scattered to the floor having been replaced by Equilibrium’s fresh meat.

“Remember when you were like that, Vulgaris?” said Equilibrium.

“I do,” said Vulgaris rushing from door to table.

“Please don’t kill me,” said the boy.

“I’m not going to kill you,” said Equilibrium. “I’m going to turn you into an instrument of the gods. Why does everyone always think their going to die?”

“I heard the screams last night… men, women, animals? Why are you so evil?”

In this bit the sense of fly-on-the-wall becomes stronger. There are no dominant characters at anywhere, and if you read this carefully, it is almost as if one would be watching a stage play. Maybe it is that you, as a writer, are waiting for one of these characters to leeches on their hands and become the master of scene.

If that was your aim, then well done.

If not, then please rewrite the scene again and this time do it from the 1st person perspective before you start translating it to the close 3rd.

“Evil? Evil?!” Equilibrium could not believe his ears. How anyone could see his work as evil remained beyond his comprehension.

You start inner monologue and then hastily withdrew. Why? Where's the rest?

Helping Vulgaris pin the boy to the table, Equilibrium picked the stray equipment from the floor. As Vulagris flipped the slave onto his front, Equilibrium bound his malnourished legs and arms. Tied to the table and unable to move, the boy screamed out in frustration. Equilibrium saw Vulgaris’ eyes move towards a gag that lay to one side, but Equilibrium kicked him in the shin for being soft.

Good.

“Go get the beast,” said Equilibrium and Vulgaris limped from the room.

Grammar.

How about,

"Vulgaris," Equilibrium wiped forehead on back of his hand and gestured the door with his eyes. "Get the beast!"

With a smile etched across his face, Equilibrium had the troublesome task of deciding which blade would better suit the boy’s skin.

Telling, not showing!

Man, you can do this. I know you can, and it breaks the tension when you don't use your talent. Show us how wicked man he is. What he enjoys. What he thinks when he moves finger over the knives as if was he's having hard time of choosing his most favourite instrument. The readers enjoy fear and they read with excitement when they get in the head of a psychopath. And as that is what you're trying to show, it really doesn't show because the narrator is dominating the scene.

I wish I could say you this, "Release him," but I'm afraid that you're too afraid on going into the dark with him.

“I’m going to turn you into an angel,” said Equilibrium.

I would love you to show readers what sort of instrument he finally picked.

“I don’t want to be an angel,” said the boy sobbing. “I want my mum. Please let me go.”

“Your mum is dead. You heard her screaming last night did you not?”

“Lies!” the boy said, banging his face against the blood stained table.

banging his face? What are you trying to convey?

“Yes, she pleaded for your life, Rafe. Your name is Rafe isn’t it?”

“No, it’s Abra!”

“Oh, maybe I didn’t kill your mum then… not yet anyway.”

“You’re sick,” said Abra.

“No, I’m a god amongst men. And I must have my army.”

Please add some detailed description here, otherwise we're again reading a stage-play; waiting for the actors.

Behind him, Vulgaris kicked the door open and turned to walk in backwards. As he got closer, Equilibrium could see the two large feathered wings that Vulagris dragged into the room. Dark blood trailed his servant and Equilibrium grimaced at the thought of his halls being spoilt.

“Why do you have to be so mucky, Vulgaris?” said Equilibrium. “You should’ve brought the beast with you, like I said.”

“I’m sorry Master, but I wasn’t strong enough,” said Vulgaris.

“Go clean it up.”

“Now?”

“Yes now, you piece of ****,” Equilibrium said. He didn’t bother to watch Vulgaris leave, but he heard the door close.

Beautiful, the wings remained white and most of the blood slid off the waterproof feathers. Leaving the wings for just a short moment, Equilibrium turned to Abra and marked his back with a vertical, bloody line from the top of each shoulder blade, to the bottom.

You need to add more description on the beast.

Abra’s body began to sweat and Equilibrium breathed in the sweet smell of fear that gathered in the boy’s trousers. Wanting to keep Abra going, Equilibrium stuck the blade deep into his flesh. The boy’s body tensed, but Equilibrium left it just long enough for the muscles to relax before dragging the blade back down the line. Again, Abra’s body seized up and tears mixed with blood as he continued to hit his head against the solid wood.

Moving onto the other line, Equilibrium did the same again. He stood admiring the gashes. Bone jutted from the holes and Equilibrium grabbed one of the wings Vulgaris had brought him. Placing the wing in the cradle between his forearm and his bicep, Equilibrium tried to guide the bloody end into the left wound on Abra’s back.

Sorry to break the tension, but what line? What are you trying to say in the second para? That he's trying to make the boy look like an angel?

Unable to slide in the wing, Equilibrium forced it in. The skin tore and Abra went limp. Quick, quick, Equilibrium thought as he fumbled with a pouch on his belt with the other arm. The pouch came free and he emptied a thick white glitter onto the table. Bright and pure, the substance bathed the room in light. Equilibrium scooped up some and rubbed it into Abra’s wound. The wing and boy’s body began to fuse together and Equilibrium could see the white energy travel through the boy’s veins.

Doing the same with the other wing, Equilibrium untied Abra, but rather than be rough, or harsh with him, he loved him. Gentle hands put Abra to rest and Equilibrium prayed to Sta’Veysa that he would survive. Now, Abra became Equilibrium’s son, and the first of many holy warriors.

Just don’t mutate, don’t let Vek’Koros take you boy, Equilibrium thought.

Good.

Personally, as you can see from above, I think you still need to practice before your craft is perfect. Don't be afraid on diving into the protagonist head to give readers that extra exposition that they're graving for. And please, don't think this is bad, but think that it needs some work, before it shines like a polished diamond. Because that is what you have in here.

 

[Colbey Frost]

Chrispenycate.

Thanks for the checks. And just so you know, the boy was not born into slavery... and as far as talking back to people, all the kids i write about talk back, i cant help it; my own kids are little devils! Modern, smart and a handfull!

CTG.

I cant get enough of feedback like this; it drives me. And i thank you for taking the time out to help me.

I just love the whole process.

 

[Hex]

Mmm sorry Christian, I'm completely pathetic with torture scenes (one of Guy Gavriel Kay's books - the Norse-based one where they do "make angels" - made me so sick it took me about 4 goes to read it).

Some very-much-from-a-personal-point-of-view comments:

For me (and I said this before in the last bit you put up for critiques), the answering back issue is a problem with credibility. In most societies, a slave who answers back gets beaten or killed. Unless your society is somehow different or this boy is very valuable and untouchable (or extremely stupid), he's going to have learned to keep his mouth shut (especially when he's being threatened with torture - answering back there is, unless you're a hero type going to certain death, just stupid).

For a really good fantasy look at what slavery does to someone, Carol Berg's book "Transformation" is brilliant.

Equilibrium licked his lips as he looked down upon the new slave. Holding the boy’s face in his hand, Equilibrium jerked it from side to side.

Nit-pickery - 'Equilibrium' twice in quick succession threw me a bit - I think for the second one you could get away with "he": "Holding the boy's face in his hand, he jerked it from side to side."

“You’ll do,” Equilibrium said. “I’ve not tried it on someone so young before, but you’ll do.”

“Tried what?” said the boy as Equilibrium released his grip.

The slave looked over his shoulder as if to escape, but another man entered the room, blocking his exit.

“Did you manage to find one?” Equilibrium said to the man. [I'd lose "to the man"]

“Yes I did [comma] Master,” said Vulgaris, closing the door behind him.

Vulgaris looked just as sheepish as the slave [sheepish? is the slave looking sheepish rather than terrified/ defiant?], and his pale skin did nothing to flatter an already weak physique. [I'm a bit dodgy on paragraphing, but I think these are separate ideas, so a new one here?] Equilibrium grabbed the boy by the throat and raised him into the air. He could feel the windpipe, hard against his palm. The boy struggled, but Equilibrium turned and in one fluid motion threw the boy onto a nearby table. Sharp blades and chains scattered to the floor having been replaced by Equilibrium’s fresh meat. ["Equilibrium's fresh meat" confused me, although re-reading I get it, I needed to re-read a couple of times. Being picked up by the throat and thrown onto a table would hurt. Obviously. Possibly very seriously, given throats. I did like the image of the windpipe hard against his hand, though.]

“Remember when you were like that, Vulgaris?” said Equilibrium.

“I do,” said Vulgaris rushing from door to table.

“Please don’t kill me,” said the boy. [OK here there a style thing that worried me - you have the structure: "saying something," said someone three times in a row, and by the end ("please don't kill me," said the boy) it read to me a little bit like the sort of repetition you might use in a child's story - you know that one about the Little Red Hen ("Who'll bake the bread?" said the little red hen. "I won't," said the male hen (*), "I won't," said the mouse. "Then I'll do it," said the little red hen). In that sense it works, but it didn't have shock value for me. I'm not completely sure why not, but "said the boy" seemed like too much.]

“I’m not going to kill you,” said Equilibrium. “I’m going to turn you into an instrument of the gods. Why does everyone always think their [they're] going to die?”

“I heard the screams last night… men, women, animals? Why are you so evil?” [how does he know what was screaming? and why does he say this to Equilibrium? does he have a death-wish??]

“Evil? Evil?!” Equilibrium could not believe his ears. How anyone could see his work as evil remained beyond his comprehension.

Helping Vulgaris pin the boy to the table, Equilibrium picked the stray equipment from the floor. As Vulagris flipped the slave onto his front, Equilibrium bound his malnourished legs and arms. Tied to the table and unable to move, the boy screamed out in frustration [and terror?]. Equilibrium saw Vulgaris’ eyes move towards a gag that lay to one side, but Equilibrium kicked him in the shin for being soft. [again, too much Equilibrium - it's such a long and dramatic name that having it repeated really shows]

“Go get the beast,” said Equilibrium and Vulgaris limped from the room.

With a smile etched across his face, Equilibrium had the troublesome task of deciding which blade would better suit the boy’s skin.

“I’m going to turn you into an angel,” said Equilibrium.

“I don’t want to be an angel,” said the boy sobbing. “I want my mum. Please let me go.” [I found this reaction realistic]

“Your mum is dead. You heard her screaming last night did you not?”

“Lies!” the boy said, banging his face against the blood stained table. [this one, not so much - as in, what he said didn't work for me, but I did think that banging his head against the table was effective - a good way of expressing his rage and fear while he can't move]

“Yes, she pleaded for your life, Rafe. Your name is Rafe isn’t it?”

“No, it’s Abra!”

“Oh, maybe I didn’t kill your mum then… not yet anyway.”

“You’re sick,” said Abra. [he's just so... defiant. I don't feel scared, because he's not acting scared. Also, what effect did banging his face against the table have on his face? Any?].

“No, I’m a god amongst men. And I must have my army.”

Behind him, Vulgaris kicked the door open and turned to walk in backwards. As he got closer, Equilibrium could see the two large feathered wings that Vulagris dragged into the room. Dark blood trailed his servant and Equilibrium grimaced at the thought of his halls being spoilt.

“Why do you have to be so mucky, Vulgaris?” said Equilibrium. “You should’ve brought the beast with you, like I said.”

“I’m sorry Master, but I wasn’t strong enough,” said Vulgaris.

“Go clean it up.”

“Now?”

“Yes now, you piece of ****,” Equilibrium said. He didn’t bother to watch Vulgaris leave, but he heard the door close.

Beautiful, the wings remained white and most of the blood slid off the waterproof feathers. Leaving the wings for just a short moment, Equilibrium turned to Abra and marked his back with a vertical, bloody line from the top of each shoulder blade, to the bottom.

Abra’s body began to sweat and Equilibrium breathed in the sweet smell of fear that gathered in the boy’s trousers. Wanting to keep Abra going, Equilibrium stuck the blade deep into his flesh. The boy’s body tensed, but Equilibrium left it just long enough for the muscles to relax before dragging the blade back down the line. Again, Abra’s body seized up and tears mixed with blood as he continued to hit his head against the solid wood. [no screaming?]

Moving onto the other line, Equilibrium did the same again. He stood admiring the gashes. Bone jutted from the holes and Equilibrium grabbed one of the wings Vulgaris had brought him. Placing the wing in the cradle between his forearm and his bicep, Equilibrium tried to guide the bloody end into the left wound on Abra’s back. [ugh. Yuck. Sorry, this is where I stop reading. Not because it's not well written, but because it's too horrible].

I do wonder, though, if what Equilibrium is doing is making angels, then why does he bother with the fear and the torment? Is that somehow necessary to the process? does he want his "army" to hate him or don't they remember this bit? If he needs to break them down for the wings to 'take' then I'd expect more screaming and begging and - you know - breaking down.

I wondered what the purpose of this section was in your WiP - is it to show more of how weird Equilibrium is? Is it to show how he's prepared to torture people to get what he wants? I found it disgusting but not frightening because I didn't ever really get inside the boy's head or feel his horror and fear. Why is he there? Has he done something wrong? Does he think he might have? Who is responsible for him? (these are probably questions you answered elsewhere, but they occured to me as I was reading). Someone has let this child down very badly if Equilibrium can come along and do this. He is, after all, someone else's property.

I hope this helps.

(*) The actual animal that says "I won't" got replaced with stars. Dearie me.