Persuasion

AN: Nikolaus belongs to my boyfriend, Jarek to me. Niko is the son of Alfonse and Sergei from my short, Clockwork. Jarek's an Ironfang, an original species which belongs to me, although he is in his human form in this chapter.

Detailed warnings -
Implied necrophila, torture, D/s, S&M, Master/slave, bodymods (later on), heavy sadism (nonsexual), sadism (sexual), gore.

Unbeta'd work.

Enjoy!

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Another shrill scream filled the air, followed by laughter. An eerie silence hung heavy in the air after. Another scream, another, begging and a calm murmur. The voice didn't sound bad. The opposite in fact, deep and reassuring.

"It's okay, hush. Just a bit more skin, and then we'll see if you can remember what the letter from Mr. Hayford said before you burned it."

The room reeked of blood, piss and something clinical and antiseptic. It burned the insides of the nose, unless one was used to it. Jarek paid it no heed as he slid his knife up under the man's flesh again, removing yet another section. His bloodied fingers slipped around the handle of the knife, cutting deeper than he intended. The man strapped down to the steel table wailed desperately, too weak to fight the steel restraints trapping him in place. A good square six inches of his stomach was skinned now. Blood streamed down his abdomen and legs to pool on the linoleum floor and stain Jarek's already torn and battered jeans.

He took a step back, leaving a bloody footprint on the floor, and admired the weak, panting man before him. He smiled, scarred lips twisting, when he recalled how he had shattered the poor fool's hands with a hammer from the rack of tools set up to his left. The wooden handle was smooth from used, patchy in areas from bloodstains, the metal head viciously heavy and the claws behind that glintig under the pale lights of the room. Then Nikolaus had suggested removing the fingernails from his ruined hands, so of course he did so with a smile and half bow to his master. They had both listened almost hungrily to the man screeching. The knife, of course, was next. Jarek had been given a full list of names by the poor bastard but nothing more.

Yes, the knife had been fun as ever. Jarek drew one of the many ones he kept concealed, shrugged off his coat and begun carefully, ever so carefully removing square inches of skin, asking questions between each. When they were like this, that made Jarek shiver happily inside the most. Sobbing, on the edge of giving in. Delicious.

"Seven PM on the twenty second, the old guildhall in the outskirts," the man finally sobbed out, head lolling limply to one side.

With a soft purr, Jarek stroked his cheek, smearing the man's own blood over it. Pushing his hair behind his ears - the blood could be washed out later - he turned to look at Nikolaus with a tilted head, like a dog expecting an order. As always, the younger man headed over, barely glancing at the man supine on the table before him. He ran his fingers through Jarek's wavy hair.

"Scrawny little stuck up shit..." the man said with a groan.

Jarek refocused his eyes on him and reached for his knife, before a hand closed over his. Nails dug in and he squirmed.

"Leave it. He's trying to get a rise out of you so he can die easily. Maybe we'll let him, hm, Jarek?" Niko said with a sly smile, eliciting a chuckle and nod from the other man.

He bit down on Jarek's neck, hair stroking the side of his face and grinned when he heard the breath catch in his throat. A bite on his jaw this time, nails raking down his sides under his shirt. Jarek sighed shakily, mumbling something vague about cutting the man open. Letting go off him, Nikolaus nodded, stroking over Jarek's injured, twisted back as he stepped away to watch him deal with the small-time 'rebel' nuisance. Still, threats to blow up the building where his fathers lived was no joke no matter how much Niko pretended he didn't care for either of the men.

Jarek retrieved his knife. Blood was still sticky on the hilt, the blade cool when he touched it softly. A caress, almost. A quick glance down at the prisoner revealed terror in his eyes. He writhed, struggled against the cuffs and uttered a soft 'No' over and over as soon as the knifepoint settled gently just below his sternum. With a slow, practised motion, Jarek cut. A river of blood followed the blade, fiery pain for the victim. The sides of the inciscion glistened wetly with blood as Jarek's fingers scrabbled to wrench at them, just to hear the howling and moaning from the man increase. He grunted, shifted, his dick almost painfully hard.

The thick scent of blood continued to fill the air as he reached in to - as he called it - mess with the organs. Tear at them, squeeze them, rip at them with his fingernails. Sometimes he would do more, but not as Nikolaus was watching, and as fun as it was, the pains spiking down his spine absolutely forbade him. It was only a few seconds more before his game grew sour, the prisoner gagging and passing out one last time from shock, panic and pain. Enough was enough - he had lasted around thirty five seconds as well, impressive. A quick, vicious yank to the head and the man was gone forever. A sick, wet pop filled the now silent room as Jarek removed his hand. Clapping soon followed, and soft laughter.

"Very well done, Jarek. Go and clean yourself up and I'll sort the paperwork whilst you're gone."

Jarek couldn't help but notice how Nikolaus' eyes were on him the whole time, his breathing quick and fast. He smirked very slightly and nodded, heading up the stainless steel stairs outside the thick, soundproof doors to the room. His boots rang on each step, leaving a sticky trail of bloody footprints behind him. He wondered what Niko would be doing with the body whilst he was gone. Hm. He tried not to think too hard about that, licking over his lips a little.

The shower was adjacent to the entrance for the steps which led to the torture room. Only a small shower and never particularly warm, but powerful enough to help hose off any blood which had soaked through to cling to his skinny, tattooed body. He quickly retrieved a change of clothes from his locker before undressing and standing under the spray of lukewarm water. It was becoming exceedingly difficult to keep his mind on washing himself when his fingers brushed over one of the bruises Niko had left on his neck.

---

Another twenty minutes or so, and the man was simply a file in a cabinet in a huge system consisting of everyone in the city. Out of three of the other ring members, only one other had a file. Nikolaus leafed through, raising an eyebrow when he saw the woman had been arrested a few years back for attempting to rob a doctor's surgery. Drug addicts. Now there was a surprise. Not like he could say much about that, though, considering how he had been a few years back. He supposed the other two were unregistered - no shock at all. One of his father Sergei's little gophers could easily enough deal with some scumbags from the outskirts. It's what they were trained for, wasn't it? Other than an extention of his father's already expansive ego.

Niko slid the files into a seperate file for ongoing cases. He and Jarek were just there as extra incentive for the citizens to do good. Particularly Jarek with his powerdrills and sly smile and all those heavy rings on his fingers. He had learned a hell of a lot from the man, particularly about dealing with people. He knew the look Jarek had in his eyes when the prisoner earlier insulted him, though. It was the exact same look he had seen when he told Jarek he had been bullied on his first day of school. Of course, little children didn't bother other little children with pet torturers who also happened to be Ironfangs. The sudden transformations from a relatively calm looking man in a shirt with a smiley face on to a huge eyeless reptillian creature could be very disconcerting, especially when said creature began to dismember other children in the schoolyard who were well known for lunch money theft and chinese burns. Then again, little children with pet torturers never made many friends.

That had been okay, Nikolaus was better than all of them. He didn't need stupid kids getting in his way when he had a sociopathic genius looking after him and ridiculously rich fathers who were quite frankly scared shitless of him. Then again, Jarek had always been a bit of a shadow over him growing up. It could be hard to have fun when all one's friends were too wary of the tall blond man dogging you around, even if they weren't really friends and if fun was never really that fun.

He sighed and left a note on the desk for the head of Sergei's secret police before heading off to find Jarek - probably drooling over some cadaver - and drag him for a drink before home.