Saturday / July 14 / 3:10am - Prison Cell
Yamato had been floating in and out of consciousness since his ‘interrogation’. It was mostly torture. They didn’t actually know who he was, he figured out. They, whoever they were, just felt like grabbing him and throwing him in prison. They must have been bored.
He said ‘they’ because his captors were human. Well, mostly. Some were Digimon. But it was getting to the point that he was having a difficult time telling the difference. He didn’t know what day it was, what time it was, if it was day or night. He was just stuck in that cell unless he was being tortured.
The torture was… he couldn’t find a word for it. Yamato had been strapped to a chair, and if he couldn’t or wouldn’t answer a question, he’d have a strip of skin flayed off with a knife. Usually on his arms. And most of the time he really couldn’t answer the questions. They were along the lines of ‘Who are you working for’ and ‘What information were you told to get?’. Unfortunately, he wasn’t working for anyone, and he wasn’t told to get any information.
At this moment, though, he’d been left alone. So he layed on his back in his prison cell, his shirt open because he was hot and his arms wrapped in bandages. Yamato was becoming numb to the throbbing pain of his wounds. Unfortunately, though, he still could not sleep.
Takeru’s call had gone unheard days ago. There was no answer, not from fellow prisoners and not from his captors even. There was nothing. With nothing else to do he had sat there for hours and hours and hours. No one ever came. For days he day there without anyone coming. On maybe the third day or so, he had been losing consciousness at that point because of dehydration and so he wasn’t quite sure exactly when it was, they threw water on his face. By the time he regained himself enough to look around they were gone, leaving him a small pitcher of water.
For another few days Takeru was left alone there, with nothing but water. When his door finally opened he blinked up at the shadows framed against the bright light in the doorway. He had no strength to put up resistance as they dragged him up, unchaining his foot and dragging him down the hall.
He heard them talking to each other as they walked, his muddled brain trying to piece together the conversation.
“Where are we taking this one?….to the other one. You know…the blonde thing…But why?…dunno, maybe to scare him of what’s coming. The other blonde isn’t gonna last much longer anyways…”
Takeru wasn’t sure if they were talking about him or something else. He didn’t really have time to think about it though as they stopped in front of another cell and without another word tossed him inside.
The door slammed shut behind him with a bang. It took Takeru a few minutes to take in his surroundings. He realized that finally he was not alone. Not only that but he knew the other person. Or at least, he thought that he might, maybe he was just hallucinating or something. “Y-Yama?” he croaked, his throat still feeling parched despite the water he’d been given.
