Jake thought it was over after that. Dan had looked absolutely gobsmacked, and he was sure that was that. That he'd at least be put in a cage and not cut again. But then he'd brought out lighters, flame, more blades, and he'd writhed, screaming as the blades went deep enough sometimes to hit bone, sending such agonizing bolts of pain through him that made him want to die, or at least pass out so it would stop. Then it was gone. And then it happened again, and again. He pushed the blades into his stomach, deep, and watched as the wounds knitted at amazing rates. Jake's voice grew hoarse by the time Dan was finished with him. At least the sadistic bastard hadn't shoved anything inside him in other ways...

Then the mask was gone, and Jake could hear his breathing in a different way. It sounded ragged, painful, escaping his lungs in hard puffs. He mustered his most defiant face. "F-f... Fuck you, man." Jake's voice was painfully raw, and he hated how frail it sounded. He tensed when Dan leaned over him, a question on his face. He pressed the blade in his hand against Jake's side and began to press, and Jake hissed a breath in, letting it out in a low, shaking moan. "God, stop, stop, fuck, okay!" He wriggled, trying to get away from the blade. "Lemme go, I'll be your friggin'... experiment, whatever the hell, God, stop with this shit..." He was shaking hard now, a mix of rage, fear, pain, and helplessness coursing through him. The metal table had long since heated with his body resting on it, and his skin itched where the blood had dried.