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Post by Cian Mahoney on Jun 21, 2009 11:20:49 GMT -6
The History...
"AND DON'T LET ME CATCH YOU HERE AGAIN!" He screamed. Cian of course was laughing wildly. His feet hitting the ground as he ran. By his side, his little brother Cael was tailing him. He too found it surprisingly funny. Shockingly enough, Cian was glad that Cael was with him. Cael was the little brother, a few years younger then Cian and he was at that point in his life where everything Cian did, he wanted to do too. It irritated the older brother a little, but he put up with it. He loved his brother and he knew it was only a phase. There was an eight year gap between them. Cian was sixteen and his little brother was 8. The Mahoney brothers, as everyone called them, were never too far away from one another. Cian liked to keep a close eye on his little brother to make sure that he kept out of trouble. He didn't want Cael getting into what he was getting into.
Cian had just egged the hell out of the bakery. Why? Well, there were two reasons. A. He was angry at the owner for making his little brother cry, and B. He was told he had to commit several small acts of chaos. Nothing big or too suspicious. Egging was his style. He had one more act to do and then he would be in. Sure, the initiation to the group wasn't anything big. But these guys were all, like him, still young and carried an air of civility to them. He didn't truly consider them a gang. No, they weren't. They dressed better. They all had fortunate parents, Cian would be the poor one in the group, but that was alright with him. Aslong as he got in.
They stopped running when they were far enough away and caught their breath behind the cafe. He sighed deeply and then got down. He held Cael's small shoulders, and looked him dead in the eye. "Cael.. I am telling you righ' now.. I don' want you to ever do these things.. They are bad. I love you and I don't want people hurting you..understand?" His little brother nodded. He understood. He always did as his brother told him to. Perhaps that was why he turned out to be so good. Keeping good grades, and better friends. Cian of course didn't go that way. He kept his grades at passing levels, but his friends were in an odd circle involving illegal activities. This was when it all started. His long fall from a successful life started here.
Its safe to say that Cian got what he was after. He was accepted into the group a little less then a month later. Things remained quiet. Nothing happened really. Then once summer hit, Cian found himself more busy then ever, and Cael was finding that he had to spend less and less time with his favourite person. Cael was a little softy. Much like his brother Cian. On the nights that Cian would be out all night, and sometimes for a few days 'with friends', Cael would cry himself to sleep that he didn't get to hug his brother before going to sleep. He didn't like not being able to wish him a good night. Cian loved his little brother dearly.
Things picked up, and soon Cian was even missing out on Cael's rugby games and tournaments. He was missing out on family outings and gatherings too. He missed his cousin's wedding, and his grandfather's birthday too. That hurt him a lot, and Cian took him out to make up for it. Apologising. His family knew he was busy, and he, along with the 'friends' he was with began wearing suits all the time. Deals were getting bigger and he was getting lost in everything. Cian had a big pocket and he gladly shared the wealth. The money he was making from this was incredible. He gave to his parents and grandparents. Millions of pounds. Cian was making money like no tomorrow. Things, after years of fighting for it, however dirty the money was, were finally looking great. He opened an account. Cael's college fund. He did nothing but good with the money he was making. Bad money for good deeds.
In the group, Cian wasn't the muscle. He wasn't the leader, and he wasn't the minions. Cian was a negotiator. They looked after him like a little brother and called him kid a lot. They were fond of him as he was the youngest, and an excellent negotiator. He sealed dozens of big money deals, and dressed smart. Never tarnishing the appearance or shaming the group he ran with. He was never involved in hits. Never involved with the actual theft. All he did was talk and stand by his 'employer' like a good lap dog.
The golden era was ending though. It was short lived and wealthy. But it was ending. An underground street war broke out and fighting insued. Cian was able to remarkably keep all of this from his family. All but Cael. He knew, but he held the secret and promised never to get involved in these things, which of course made Cian relax a little. The war was ending but a meeting was being arranged in America. Cian had to go. He didn't question it. He was sent over with a few guards to make sure that nothing happened to the negotiator. After all, a lot was resting on Cian's ability to communicate, and they didnt' want anything to happen to him...
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Post by Cian Mahoney on Jun 21, 2009 13:05:44 GMT -6
An arrival, and a deal... Stepping off the plane he breathed in the air deeply. It smelled different. This place was completely new. He knew nothing of its people or their ways. He couldn't drive here. The roads and the faces were all different. Nothing was the same and no one was familiar. Cian was planning on sticking close with his guards. They passed through and into the terminal. Keeping to themselves really, not drawing unneccessary attention. They had no bags to pick up as this was only a day trip and they would be heading back and on the 9 O'clock flight. Cian had informed his family of course that he was coming here, so they need not worry about him. He didn't like people worrying about him. But he did bring a picture of them with him. Hidden away in a secret pocket in his suit that he had made specifically for it. Cian considered it good luck to have them with him.
Leaving the airport, the four of them snagged a cab. Inside Cian looked at the biggest muscle, yet he was intelligent muscle. "Jonner...Wha' time is it? I don't know about you but I kind of would like to eat something before we jump into this.. " the big guy looked at Cian with chuckle. Sorry Mr. Mahoney.. You can fill your stomach after. We are cutting it close as it is.[/i] Cian sighed but nodded and understood.
The car was fast. Too fast. Cian wasn't liking the driver very much and had asked him once to please slow down. The cab driver turned around and looked at him as he was driving and yelled at him to shut up and that it wasn't his fault that the other drivers were terrible at driving. Cian's men started yelling back and as they sat at the red light, a comical scene of a car load of foriegners (including the driver), were all yelling at one another. Cian found it funny, but he refrained from laughing and kept a straight face. The light turned green again and horns started honking. The driver yelled and swore out the window as he slammed his foot down on the gas peddle. After another half an hour of shouting and yelling. Arguing. They had arrived. Gratefully. Cian was beginning to worry about his hearing.
The four climbed out and Jonner paid the man. Angus, the second of the three gaurds was short. Shorter then Cian, thinner too. But he was fast. He had the fasted gun hand in Scotland. Very fair hair. Light brown. He walked to the door of the house and knocked thrice upon the wood. They only had to wait for a few short moments before the door opened. A tall Russian opened the door. God he had to be atleast six foot four. He was huge and Cian swallowed hard. The Russian looked upon the group. Only one didn't have brown hair. That was Seamus. He was tall like Jonner. About six foot nothing. He was a blonde. The four Scots moved in as they were directed by the Russian. Leading the troupe into the sitting room where there was atleast six more men, not including the gentleman that Cian was to be meeting. All of the obeying dogs stood about the room in a menacing way. A few moved and shifted a little to conceal their weapons from the eyes of the Scots. This meeting was supposed to be amiable.
Cian and the other three were unaware of the weapons, but the men Cian was with, had planned ahead and had guns on themselves incase something happened. Cian greeted the man with a big grin and a firm handshake. "Sir, my employer is very pleased that you were wishing te make this arrangement.." The bloke's smile was slick. His appearance was greasy. A rich grease. His slimy smile spread on his face. There is no need for 'sir'.. we are friends here Mr. Mahoney.. Please.. call me Sven..[/b] Cian smiled. "Alrigh' Sven... Now... shall we get on with our negotiations?" Sven nodded as Cian took a seat across from him. The men Cian had brought with him, were standing close and making sure that no harm might happen to him.
"Alright then.. its settled." Cian said after an hours deliberation and conversation. Tensions were high amoungst those in the room. but Sven seemed immune to it. He smiled and nodded. "well then.. My employer will be wiring the funds to you within forty eight hours, and our deal will be complete." Cian smiled. Yet another perfect deal complete. He rose to his feet as Sven did. He extended his hand and another handshake, only this time Sven didn't let go. I don't think so Mr. Mahoney... Your 'employer' fucked with the wrong people too often. Do you really think that I am stupid enough to let you run back to him?[/b] Cian's eyes were wide. By this time everyone had their guns drawn. You my fine Scottish friend are going to stay here with me, until i know that deal is good. I know he favours you... I have done my research. [/b]Cian struggled to free himself from Sven's grip, but failed.
Sven's men, all seven of them quickly kept Cian's men out of the way and distracted. While Sven pulled Cian out of the room. Kill them.. I don't need them.. [/b] Cian then heard a series of gunshots. Running and shouting as he heard the fight in the sitting room. It was a blood bath. Sven cuffed Cian to the banister and ran to see why everything had gone so quiet. The key had conveniently fallen from his pocket. But it was definately a stretch. He heard another and final gun shot as he heard a loud thud. Cian snatched up the key finally and unlocked the cuff around his wrist. He pulled the phone out of his pocket. A satalite cell. God they were a gift. He quickly dialed up the head of the operations.
"What the HELL IS GOING ON! I had the deal settled! Everything was fine.. what did he mean!? You screwing him over.. FUCK!" Cian got an explaination that told him to stay put. "I can't stay! I have absolutely nothing.. and you know damn well that I can't wire my money over. Its impossile to do.. I have NOTHING!" An apology followed and a promise to look after the family. Cian was grateful and thanked him graciously. After he had calmed down, the man on the other end of the line called him kid again. A name he used because he was very fond of Cian, and Cian sometimes wondered if his employer was a little for both teams. He often treated Cian a little better then he treated his own girlfriends. Oh well.
After he hung up, Cian moved towards the front door and collected himself. He peered into the sitting room and turned green. Everyone was dead. Blood sprayed up the walls, the floor was an ocean of red. Deep, dark pools of it. Cian made sure to take the things he had touched. Pocketing them, he grabbed the knob with a cloth and opened it. He left and a few blocks away ended up disposing of the items. The question now was... now what? He looked over and saw a pub looking for help. A smile spread, shit. He knew how to mix drinks. He knew his booze the best. Cian heaved a sigh. Looking down he was already dressed up for an occasion. Might aswell try. He removed the photo of his family and kissed it before pocketing it again. Heading inside he started to make for a new life. He was stuck here.[/size]
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Post by Cian Mahoney on Jun 23, 2009 14:59:26 GMT -6
Another chance....
"Wait.. just one... more..." There was a loud cracking noise with the echo from the pang of metal against metal. Being separated. Rusty metal at that. "GOT IT!" Cian looked filthy. Covered in dirt from the floor. He was working in the pub as the tender and repair guy.
Thank the fates the repair career was cut.
Suddenly there was a hollow gurgling noise coming from the pipe as Cian looked at it. A little nervous to say the least. Mr. Weston, the owner of the pub and grille, was standing behind him. "Uh... sir? You... migh' want te step back a wee bit..." Then it happened. Water came rushing. Burting out of the pipe. Hitting the ceiling as it turned and rained down on them. Cian! I thought you turned the water off![/b] Trying hard to keep his hands over the opening to the pipe, he was now soaking wet. "I thought I did! Are there two taps?!" The two men were shouting as the cascading water rushed fast and loud. Weston left the room. Cian looked back to seem him, but he was gone. "Sir!? Mr. Weston! Where are ye goin'!?" Almost as soon as he said that, the water stopped. Cian looked about the horribly messt kitchen. He hated installing this new dishwasher for the dish pit. He heaved a sigh.
Weston walked in and stopped in the doorway. Looking at Cian. filthy, soaking wet, small and looking helpless on the kitchen floor still covering the open pipe end. He laughed at him. Cian... You look absolutely fit. I wish I had a camera. Cian looked at him as the water dripped from his drenched clothing and hair. His brilliant piercing blue eyes sparkled a little and he laughed too. "Sorry sir.. I should have turned both taps...Guess I turned the wrong one." He smiled sheepishly.
....................three hours later....................
"Damnit I hate these bloody things!" he sucked on his index finger. He had cut himself as he was just finishing the installment. Weston came in and gave him an odd look. Cian peered at him and pointed at the washer. "It tried to eat me.. got my finger nicked." He heaved a sigh and then stopped the pathetic tending on his finger. Grabbing the wrench, Cian finished tightening to nuts and shifted it into the corner a little better so that everything was flush. "I'm done! I finished it sir.." Cian dissappeared for a moment and then walked back into the kitchen. Turning on the machine, he lowered the cover. It glided so nicely. Once it was closed, the water began to rush in. Steam poured out and the sound of a working dishwasher was heard. He beamed and then turned it off. Well done m'boy! Come on, its after hours.. How about a drink on the house and an early pay check.[/b] Cian beamed. "That would be great sir!" He followed him out and was handed a scotch. Cian thanked him as he was also passed an early pay.
After a while of talking, it was established that Cian could sleep in the back since he had not had the time or the money to rent out yet. It was temporary and he was more then grateful of the older man for offering. After a while, things slowed up for the two and Weston gave Cian the keys before leaving for home. Cian locked the place up and headed into the backroom where a cot and some blankets and a pillow had been set. He stripped his shirt and pants off, but left his boxers on of course. Crawling onto the cot and settling in under the blankets, he leaned over and grabbed the picture of his family out from his jacket. Looking at them, he hoped they would be alright. At the same time he was wondering what was happening. Cian couldn't even be brought back to Scotland. He hoped it was nothing too serious. It made him nervous to say the least. A deep sigh rattled his frame in the silence, and the dark of this temporary home. He closed his eyes and turned over to face the wall, pulling and bunching the blanket with him. His back becoming exposed to the chill in the air, he reached behind and pulled the blanket down to cover himself up completely. Cian fell fast asleep.[/size]
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Post by Cian Mahoney on Jun 30, 2009 22:53:30 GMT -6
A dire mistake...
Cian loved her. Pauley. He absolutely loved her and he felt fortunate to have even met her. But he was still trying to figure out what she was to him and vise versa. After all, they had met twice and on the second meeting, he ended up sleeping with her. He was struggling to figure it all out. But he had to think about work now. He was closing and tomorrow was the beginning of a few days off. He was going to hit a pub, go home, pass out. Wake up and cure the hangover, and then game for a little bit before calling Pauley. With all the stools turned up, and everything cleaned, Cian left. Mr. Weston would look after locking. He always did. Besides, Cian was headed for the pub and he didn't feel like having to look after keys that weren't his.
..............45 minutes later............
He was red faced from laughing so hard. The old bastard was on the flat of his back. Cian had been watching the whole time and was enjoying every minute of it. He hadn't exactly gone to a pub. It was a pub, but it was after hours and the only places after hours that sold booze were strip clubs and the 8 Ball. He didn't feel like getting drenched at the 8ball, so a strip joint was the next best thing. He had been watching for a little. It didn't really phase him all that much, but an older bloke got out of his seat. Hot and bothered, he tried to reach up for one of the girls and she had knocked him on the flat of his back. Cian had to laugh at it. It was hilarious. The old bugger came back to his senses and left.
It was about this time that a couple of grease balls approached him. Cian looked away from the girls, and then to the men that stood before him. One was bald, and the other was slick and greasy looking. He wrinkled his nose at them a little. "Aye? Wha'? Can I help you?" The two looked at one another and then to him. The bald one nodded and spoke up. Yes, actually. My friend here, and myself were wondering if you were interested in a game? Cian leaned back and looked at the two. He did have to pay the rent, and he couldn't ask for anymore advances on his pay. He nodded. "Alrigh'. I'll play a game.. fifty buy in." He slapped fifty on the table and grinned. The two did the same, but only one was playing. The game began.
It wasn't too long into the game and Cian noticed that he was losing fast. He needed that money for rent. He had to pay the rent and he was already a payment behind. He just couldn't keep up with what he was being charged. Working extra hours wasn't even helping him. He was replying on this game to keep a roof over his head. He could see the smirks on their faces. Cian set down his cards. Then, a look over to the hand that the blad guy had laid out. A royal flush. He felt his heart sink. That was it, he had just lost the game, and himself. He had bet himself on that hand. Now he was screwed. Cian smiled at them. "if you'll excuse me gentlemen... I need te use the loo... I'll be righ' back an' we can discuss this.." They nodded and he got up. As soon as they could no longer see his face, a horrified and determined expression took over. They were following him.
Cian headed into the bathroom and stood there for a moment. He opened the door a little and saw them waiting just outside. He closed it quietly once more. DAMNIT! his mind screamed. Cian didn't really feel like making a deal with them. He didn't want to hold onto his bet. He had just been so desperate to get the rent. He heaved a sigh and looked around. What was he going to do? Cian then spotted the window above one of the stalls. A smile crossed over the Scotsman's lips and he opened the stall door. Closing it behind him, he locked it. Then he got up on the toilet and balanced himself precariously as he jimmied the window open. Crawling carefully up onto the tank, he looked out the window that was now at his chest. The drop down wasn't so bad. He looked back at the door before hopping up and swinging out. Just as he was dropping out of the window he looked to the door and it opened. They came in and spotted him. One remained in the bathroom while the other ran out. Cian dropped and then ran.
(this next bit was taken from "Wrong side of town" )
Panting hard as he tried catching his breath. Daming himself for being so out of shape. Skinny as a rail and just enough muscle to keep him looking fit, but he was no runner.
He was running from a group of men. Cian figured them to be of the gangland crowd, or some other group. Perhaps just troublmakers. He had been out gambling a little. It wasn't a habit for him, it was just something he did every so often to while away his time. It wasn't frequent at all. But tonight he had gambled with more thne he had, and with the wrong people. That was his luck. He ran. Hoping above all things that he was be alright. He wanted to go home in one piece. He continued to run. Around corners and into alleys. Trying to hide in behind dumpsters. Nothing appeared to be working and Cian was starting to sweat about it. He could hear them calling out for him. Seeking him out. Cian wasn't even sure if there was a group anymore or not. It could have been just the one, but he wasn't going to take any chances. Besides, he was still a fairly new and he didn't want to end up in something he couldn't handle. Even though it appeared as though he might already be in that stick. He was currently hiding behind a dumpster. Quietly sitting there. Thinking that maybe just maybe he was okay. After several minutes, he poked his head out and looked around.
Being so very careful. Quiet as he possibly could be. Stepping out he began to make his way back out to the street. He pressed himself against the wall and searched the dimly lit streets. No sign of his pursuers. He sighed a little. Maybe whoever it was had given up. Gone home. He hoped so. Once more he had used himself as a chip, and he didn't much feel like holding to that. It was a habit to do so. But whoever it was had taken him up on it apparently. Hopefully he had gotten away, well, Scot free, funny enough. Cian began to strike out on his way home. Nearing the place he stopped. Thinking he had heard something. He turned around to look and was instantly blinded. He couldn't see and there was something over him. Covering him as he could feel arms around him. Cian began crying out for help and kicking furiously. Trying to fight back and squirm out of their grasp. Whoever it was. He managed to land a hard kick in their shin, or something. He heard a grunt, but recieved a good decking for it. Then he was being moved. He continued to cry out for help. Struggling against the now captors. He wished he could see. Once more he was damning himself for his little habits, and for his lack of training. He should have done more. Every time he called out he was getting hit. He hated it. It was causing him to freak out. But he kept calling out as he was being pulled down the street quickly.
Whatever was around him, Cian struggled with it. All he could see was darkness and the air around him was getting hot and heavy with each and every breath he stole. A near panicked hyperventilating began as he tried and strained to escape. Trying hard to run in the opposite direction he was being pulled. His cries continued to echo off of the walls of the towering dark buildings. The night air was chilled but under this heavy veil, he wouldn't know. The grip on him tightened, and he was finding himself being forced to the ground. He fell with a hard thud, and let out another cry. The arms around him pinned him down and Cian very quickly tried to slip out and run. But his attempts were shattered as a foot landed solid with his stomach. He lurched forward with a loud grunt and coughed a little. Then again. He was beginning to sink into his memories again. There was a new feeling now. Like a cord. Cian was now feeling a rope being tightly bound up around him. Snug. Keeping this, what appeared to be a sack, over him. His arms were bound to his sides. the cord nearly cutting into him through the material of his dark veil. He continued to struggle. and call out. But soon that was being taken care of. Not once did he hear a voice. Not one single time.
"Help me! someone! please! I need help!"
There was a swift kick to his head and everything went quiet. Cian was no longer awake. He had been picked up and slung over the captors shoulder and was being carried off without his fighting back. He hung limp and lifeless.
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Post by Cian Mahoney on Jul 1, 2009 3:15:47 GMT -6
48 hours of complete and utter torment and hell...
Cian awoke as he hit the dirt floor. A whisping breath escaped as he grunted loudly on impact. His eyes opened and he was choking a little on the strong scent of soil and dust. He was no longer in the sack and rope that bound him. Slowly he pushed himself up off the ground and felt a swift kick in his stomach. He grunted and fell to the floor coughing as he tried to regain that stolen breath. His lungs expanded and contracted as he inhaled and exhaled. He was coughing even more as the dust he had stirred up was caught in the air that he took in. Then he felt a sturdy hand grip the scruff of his neck as he was brought to his feet and shoved into a corner.
He tried to get a look at their faces. But he couldn't see them. Now he was damning himself for not getting a better look back in the club. They had their faces covered and he was a little worried about that. The one had a camcorder in his hand. Both were dressed identically. Black pants and shirts. They were keeping a light in Cian's eyes so that he could see them. He couldn't see their faces. Damnit!. He stood there in that corner. Watching in horrified curiousity as the camera was set up on a shelf. Why would they need a camcorder? The first thing that came to mind was a snuff film. He was sweating bullets and fought them as they came towards him. They stripped his shirt off of him and then pushed him against the wall. He kicked at them and tried to free his arms, but that was prooving impossible. His arms were ripped back and pinned behind him. Immediately he was being bound tightly with wire.
Cian was then tripped as he began to call out for help. Kicked in the face as he then felt his nose break and a squelching noise sounded. The feel of warm blood oozing from his nostrils out onto his face. He glared at them and gritted his teeth as he was dragged to the table and thrown against it. Then he was lifted up. Cian struggled against them and aimed a few good kicks at their heads. Between their legs, anywhere. He was trying so hard, but he was bound and against two. Pinned against the table now, he began to scream out for help. Fearing that his death was nearing, if only it was that. By the time this was all over, he wished they had killed him instead.
They had just laughed at his attempts to get away and calls for help. He continued on and soon felt something he really didn't like. Cian's eyes widened and he looked down as he saw them unfastening his pants. "HEY! Stop tha'! Wha' are you doing!?! Stop!" His calls fell on deaf ears as they continued on. He struggled more and tried kicking at them, but it wasn't working. Everything he tried was in vain. Soon he was completely exposed and the sudden realization sunk in. He was grabbed and then ripped off the table. Landing on the cold dirt floor once more. A loud grunt once more. He wasn't there for long though, as the larger of the two bent down and grabbed the back of his neck and his hair and lifted him. Throwing him against the side of the table.
Cian lay bent over the table. Wincing from the pain of being handled like he was baggage. A hand was then firmly placed on his head. Pushing his face into the table roughly, while the other was placed on his lower back. Protesting through gritted and bloody teeth, he continued to fight back. He wasn't going to stop fighting. No matter how pointless it was, he was hoping that they would give up and leave. Fluid profanities left and spread into the air from passing over his lips. But soon a cry of agonized pain broke through and shattered eardrums. Something was somewhere it wasn't supposed to be and Cian was suffering for it. There was a sharp stabbing pain, between his buttocks as his skin had torn and began to bleed. With each and every thrust the captor made, Cian would cry out in agony. Tears staining his cheeks and he continued swearing and protesting. Struggling to free himself of this hellish nightmare. Why him? A continuously furious fight was dying. Cian was tired and the agony he was in was draining him of energy. Eventually he just took it. He was still protesting, but it was sounding more like begging and pleading. He just wanted it to end. Hearing a cry from his rapist as he reached climax, Cian immediatey felt filthy and mortified.
He soon felt hands around his throat. Tightening and pulling him back. He was pulled back and taunted more. He was in such agony. Knowing that he was bleeding, he just wanted to hide. He felt sick. Cian felt like he was going to vomit and as soon as he started gagging he felt something being shoved into his mouth. Cian dared not open his eyes as he knew what, or rather who, it was. Gagging continued and he very nearly vomited. Soon the attacker from behind was at it again and all Cian could do was bare it. The strangling around his throat, and the violations he was experiencing. Over and over. Losing track of time, he eventually stopped trying to keep track. All he wanted to do or think about doing was ways he could try and ignore this. But that was a near impossibility. Then he heard them cry in climax again and he had had it. He was once more ripped off the table and pitched to the floor. Cian hadn't even eaten anything that day, but all there was to do was to throw up what he had been forced to swallow. Dry heaves after that and he couldn't imagine a worse place then this. No worse hell then this.
He was reduced to tears and they then kicked at him as they pulled their pants back on. Laughter echoing and coos came from the two violators. Cian hated them so much. They were still on him. In him. Not in a true physical sense, but they had left part of them behind. His binds were gripped and he was dragged naked to the corner. Dropped hard and left. They walked out and turned out the light. Leaving him alone and tearful. In pain. Still calling for help. However faint it was. He was bruised and battered. The worst of it was knowing that they were most likely not finished with him yet, and he was absolutely right. They returned the next day. Early in the morning. Only this time, Cian's suffering wasn't just for an hour, or 45 minutes.. He was put through hell the entire day. Beaten and raped over and over again. Being recorded as this happened. He was strangled and punched. As he was pressed against a wall and attacked and rape, bruises, dark and brutally painful bruises appeared quickly. Large in size too. They beat him relentlessly. Alternating between sexual and physical abuse until he passed out cold. They unbound him and dressed him again. The for fun, they bound his bleeding wrists in wire again. They took him to another and much smaller dirt floored room and set him in the middle. Closing the door, they purposefully left it unlocked. He was being let go, but he was a complete wreck. A wreck who had lost his memory of what had happened. After he had passed out, his mind blocked it all out causing him to lose memory.
(see "Wrong side of town" for details of his coming to)
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