Cleansing

Chapter Three

****
The room was dark, though light soon poured inside from the door opening upstairs. Footsteps could be heard descending the stairs, and Tom held his breath in anticipation. He struggled to his feet just as the person came into view at the bottom of the steps and squinted a little to study the male’s face even though the only part of the person’s visage showing was the lower half; from the bridge of his nose and up, it was shrouded by what looked like a beanie to Tom, with holes cut out so the person could see.

“Hello, Officer Hanson,” the seventeen year old greeted bitterly. The voice and the way he stood gave him away.
“Danny Benton,” Tom half-whispered, half-croaked.

Tom stiffened as Danny moved promptly to him, knowing that he was about to be hit judging by the tight scowl on the kid’s face. The blow was harder than he had expected, sending him backwards a couple of steps before being slammed against the wall roughly. A hand went to his throat in a choke hold, keeping him up against the cement surface.

“Don’t fucking say my name,” Danny hissed madly. “Ever.”
“Then what do I call you?” Hanson gasped and winced from more pressure applied to his neck.
“Smith. And nothing else.”
“Why are you doing this? I’d expect something like this from your brother, but not you; you’re not like him.”
“How would you know?”
“Good grades, clean record, a bit quiet – doesn’t seem like the criminal type to me.”
“Well, you’re wrong. And if you hadn’t killed him, you wouldn’t be here.”
“If he hadn’t have taken those students hostage and put a gun to that girl’s head, he wouldn’t have died.”

The reply garnered him a powerful slap, making him emit a small whimper from the intense sting on his throbbing cheek.

“You better watch your mouth, Hanson,” Danny warned in a low-tone.
“Are you really wanting to throw your life away over him? Because that’s what will happen. You’ll be charged with kidnapping and….” He paused to think of a less degrading term for what else they had done to him. “Assault on an officer, and you’ll be put away for a long time. You really want that? You could let me go now and have the charges against you lessened.”
“You know what I really want? I want to hurt you. I want to hurt you in every way possible. I want you to suffer and pay for what you did. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be so scarred by what’s happened and what you look like that you’ll never want to be seen by anyone else again.”

To emphasize his point, Benton slipped his hand behind the waistband of Tom’s only garment and stroked the officer’s limp cock forcibly. Tom tried to jerk away, but he could not get past the strong hold on him. He realized it was not only physical abuse he would have to endure, but emotional as well when he felt the sickening humiliation take over him.

“Don’t do this,” he voiced quietly. “Stop it.”
“I think you’re just beginning to enjoy it.”

Tom bit his lip and closed his eyes for a fleeting moment as he debated over what to do. The instant he re-opened them, he grabbed Benton’s arm and pried it away from his body, pushed him to the floor, and began racing for the stairs. His heart was beating so incredibly rapidly that he felt as if he would burst from the inside-out. A glimpse of hope went through him as he neared the metal door at the top. There were only two more steps.

He was suddenly hurled backwards, falling down the wood stairs to land on the ground face-down in a pitiful heap. Searing pain shot through his skull and seemed to travel all the way down to his feet. He let out a weak, quivering groan and remained immobile as his attacker came down slowly with a couple of new tools. Blood streamed from various spots on his head, and he had to blink several times to keep it out of his eyes. He could taste the red substance in his mouth from his jaw having crashed against the cement floor, making him surprised to discover that none of his teeth had come loose. The agony of the fall left him feeling completely paralyzed; he hoped in some ways that he was, believing if he was to become utterly incapacitated, he would no longer be as great of a plaything for his captors and be released.

Danny kicked Hanson’s stomach powerfully twice, resulting in the victim vomiting wretchedly.

“You pull a stunt like that again, and you’re liable to make it much worse for yourself,” the teenager stated plainly.

As Tom lay helpless, Danny flipped him over to lie on his back and placed a thick block of wood between Tom’s feet just above his ankles. He was up on his knees, gripping a sledgehammer and grinning devilishly.

“Ever heard of Misery, Tom?” he asked conversationally.

Hanson closed his eyes and continuously moaned in intense pain, moving his head very slowly from side to side, and he could not quite decipher what had been spoken; he was hardly aware of what Danny was about to do.

Benton drew back his weapon and with one swift motion, he slammed it against Hanson’s right ankle. Tom screamed in torment and dared to glance at his foot now limply lying against the wood, the bones having been smashed apart. The sight made his stomach clench, almost causing him to throw up. Tears leaked from his eyes, sweat blanketed his worn skin, and he was panting heavily. He did not comprehend the next course of action until it happened. He wailed once more when his left ankle was shattered in the same fashion as the previous one.

“I wouldn’t get too comfortable if I were you,” Danny voiced amusedly. “There’s still more to be done for the evening.”

With a satisfied laugh, Danny made his way up the stairs, and Tom heard the metal door slam shut.

*
“Come on, Tommy,” Doug whispered, his eyes glued to his computer monitor in his living room. “Get up. Come on.”

He had been watching the live feed on the website non-stop ever since he had gotten home from the chapel at four. It was now eight o’clock. Tom’s fall down the stairs had him almost in hysterics, and seeing the process of his partner’s feet being broken made him unable to breathe for practically a minute and a half. The mere sight sent pain through his own bones.

“Please, get up. Please be ok.”

After ten minutes of utter stillness, Doug witnessed Tom’s hand move to his head for a period before he rolled onto his abdomen and did his best at crawling toward the bed. There was a puddle of blood from where Tom’s head had struck the ground, and blood continued to drip on the floor from other contusions as he dragged himself across the area. He was sobbing, and it made Doug’s heart ache unbearably to see. It was not until he observed the tears on his partner’s face that he realized he was crying as well.

The phone rang suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise. It was at the other end of the large area, and he hesitated to leave the screen – to leave Tom. The ring sounded two more times before he got up and went to answer it.

“What do you want?” he asked curtly.
“Doug? It’s Judy.”
“Oh, hey, Jude. Sorry.”
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine.”
“Well I was just calling to see if you wanted to meet me, Ioki, and Booker at Oscar’s bar for a drink-”
“Wait, Booker? Since when is he back?”
“He heard about the case and requested that he could work on it with us. I guess he does care at least a little for Tom even though they got under each other’s skin most of the time. Anyway. We’re all kind of shaken up from today and thought it may be good to go out and clear our heads.”
“I can’t….I can’t just leave, Judy.”
“What are you talking about? Why?”
“I don’t want to miss anything – any sort of clue as to where Tom is. I can’t leave him.”
“Doug, please tell me you haven’t been at that website ever since you got home. You were watching it practically the whole day at work. You need to take a break from it; it’ll make you sick.”
“Then who’s gonna be watching, huh?!” he questioned angrily. “Just abandon him for a few hours so that I can go off and enjoy myself and take my mind off of what’s happening to him and then come back later as if nothing’s wrong for a little longer?!”
“I didn’t mean it like that, Doug. I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to start losing sleep and getting so obsessed with watching every single minute of that disgusting video feed. You’ll be no good to him if you can’t think clearly.”
Doug sighed in defeat, knowing she was right. “Yeah, I guess. Look, you guys go have a good time alright? I think I’m gonna turn in for the night.”
“Ok. We’ll just see you tomorrow. And I mean it; get some rest, Doug.”
A minute smile came to Doug’s face. “Yes, mother,” he replied jokingly.
“Ha ha, very funny, Douglas. Good night.”
“Night, Judith.”

He hung up the phone and despite what he had just gotten done telling Judy, he went straight to the computer to continue his surveillance. Nothing had happened in his absence, judging by the fact that Tom had not moved whatsoever from where he had passed out near the bed. Every now and then a spasm went through Tom’s body and he cried out at times, but he did not regain consciousness for a lengthy period.

Doug folded his arms on the desk and rested his head on them. He did not plan on falling asleep, yet his eyes seemed to think otherwise, for they closed and he was out in minutes.

****
The sounds of shallow breathing, soft moans, and lowered voices that were incomprehensible awoke Doug two hours later. He bolted upright in his chair, rubbed his tired eyes, and gazed at his screen to witness what was happening at that moment. He almost threw the monitor across the spacious area in a moment of rage from what he saw.

The feed came from a camera that captured the left side view of what was occurring on the bed. The image was clear and close enough to capture facial expressions, though far enough away to have the whole bed in the shot. Tom was lying on his back, hands above his head and handcuffed to the bed posts. He was naked, and his knees were bent, almost touching his chest. One of his captors was positioned between his legs and thrusting in and out of his body vigorously, while the four others looked on in amusement.

Doug’s stomach churned as he watched Hanson be gang raped brutally. The five of them took turns at violating the young officer’s being; not only did they participate in complete intercourse, but they let their hands wander inappropriately over his body, making Hanson writhe under them in an attempt to get them off of him. One even shifted Tom’s head to the side so that he could fornicate Tom’s mouth with his once-again hard cock. Tom whimpered in shame and pain, and he hated that he had been made entirely powerless to stop any of it. He swallowed down the urge to cry in torment, not wishing to display anymore weakness.

The appalling treatment made Penhall snap. He flew out of his chair and began shouting curses as he threw anything he could get his hands on at the wall. He did not even know what he was picking up, but knew that some of them had to be glass objects due to the shattering noise they made when they collided with the bricks. His fists struck his punching bag furiously as he let his anger pour out of him.

“I’ll kill them! I’ll bash their freaking heads in!” he yelled to the empty room. He hit the bag one more time before he wrapped his arms around it and held it close to keep him standing. “I’m going to find you, Tom. I swear to god. You don’t deserve this.”

With a depressed sigh, he shuffled back to the computer a couple of minutes later and was a bit relieved to find that they were no longer fondling or ravishing Tom. His wrists had been freed from the cuffs, and Travis shoved him off the bed to hit the floor with a feeble moan.

“Looks like you could use a little clean up, eh, Tommy?” Derick said with disdain. He took a fistful of Tom’s hair and began pulling him toward the bathroom. Tom yelped from the sudden pain, and he made to ease himself along with his feet, but the agony that engulfed the floppy appendages caused him to simply grasp Derick’s arm and pull himself up as much as he could to alleviate the aching hurt from his hair being yanked on.

When he was hauled into the bathroom, they all went out of the shot. Doug scrambled to click on the link that led to a page that looked as if it belonged in a security surveillance room; he estimated that there were at least fifteen cameras in use. He scrolled down until he found the recording frame of the camera positioned on the wall at the opposite end from the shower head in the bath. Tom was hurled into the tub and gruffly lifted to stand. A hand was offered to him to hold onto to keep from collapsing. The weight on his freshly broken ankles was so extremely agonizing that it made him black out several times every few seconds. No longer could he refrain from letting hot tears stream down his discolored cheeks.

The faucet was turned as far as it could go to the right to be as cold as possible. When the water rained down on him, Hanson gasped loudly and struggled to move away, but he was forcefully kept in place. He could not breathe; the freezing temperature made it feel as if his lungs had been punctured, for he found it unbearably difficult to take in any air. The arm not steadying himself wrapped around the front of his torso instinctively in an effort to provide warmth. His mind went into a state of panic; he began to hyperventilate, causing him even more trouble breathing, and emitted choked sounds. He shook violently as the water cascaded over his beaten body. Dried blood was flushed away, along with a small amount of semen – from whom, he did not know. It was a cruel baptism, one that did not end after only a few seconds.

“Who do you wish was keepin’ you warm right now, Tommy boy?” Danny taunted. “Some hot blonde you’d love to have between a pair of warm sheets?”
Hanson could not answer; he could not find the ability to speak at all. He gave a stiff shake of the head.
“A brunette girl? Or perhaps not a girl at all. You a faggot, Tom Hanson?” The five masked males laughed at this.
Hanson did not respond and merely continued to shiver uncontrollably.
“Ah, who is it, Tommy? Who are you wishing was keeping you warm? I wouldn’t be surprised if you said your partner.”
The officer opened his mouth wider as if to reply, yet there was nothing but stifled noises that came from his constricted throat.
“Come on, Hanson. Who?”
“D-D-D-Dou-Doug,” he forced out between his chattering teeth.

Doug’s mouth fell open and he felt his heart stop for a second. He stared at the monitor, wide-eyed, and placed his fingers to the screen on Tom’s cheek.

“God, Tom,” he whispered sadly. “I’d love to keep you warm. I’d love to keep you safe in my bed. I….I love you, Tom.”

Danny placed his fingertips under Hanson’s chin to make him lift his head. The young officer’s eyes were half-way open and staring blankly ahead of him. Though they appeared void of any sort of emotion, Penhall could discern the disgrace and killed pride he tried to conceal.

“Didn’t know they allowed fags onto the police force,” Danny snickered. “Thought it was reserved for real men.”

The comment received a good deal of laughter from his accomplices, yet it garnered a string of strongly worded sentences to fly from Doug’s mouth.

The time crept along at a snail’s pace, and Doug wondered how much longer they would keep Hanson under the shower head – more so, he wondered how much longer Hanson could endure it.

Twenty minutes of ceaseless frigid water pouring on him passed, and none displayed any signs of turning it off. Tom’s lips had become a light shade of blue violet, and his skin had paled. He would not be surprised if icicles were forming on him, for it certainly felt as if a hoard of them was stabbing him everywhere.

“How ya doin’, Officer Hanson?” Eric questioned with a smirk.
Tom uttered something, but it was so quiet that no one could hear it.
“What was that? We missed it.”
“C-C-C-C-Co-Cold,” he stammered. “S-S-So c-c-c-cold.”
“Had enough?”
“Y-Y-Yes. P-Pl-P-Please.”

Five more minutes ticked by before the faucet was turned to off. Tom gasped frantically for air, sounding as if he had been held underwater for a period of time and almost drowned. There were no towels to wrap around him, leaving Andrew to simply drag his soaked form on the ground by his wrist. They left him on the floor next to the bed before retreating up the stairs and locking him in.

Tom was shuddering fiercely and wheezing softly. Though his body protested any sort of movement, he forced himself to his knees to grab onto the mattress and after much toil, he pulled himself onto the bed. His energy was fading rapidly, making him act as fast as he could to slither underneath the two thin bed sheets. He rested his head on two of the three pillows, curled up snuggly on his side, and clutched the covers to him like they were a lifeline. They did not provide much warmth by any means, though he was beyond grateful that he had something to cocoon himself in instead of nothing at all. What little heat they did give was growing less due to his freezing body drenching the sheets with water. His thin frame was by now fairly numb, yet he felt a collective throbbing sensation all over him. The anguish of his feet had been substantially lessened because his mind merely identified the dangerously low body-temperature and demanded more heat.

Thoroughly exhausted, he let his wearied eyes close and attempted to fall asleep. It did not work; however, his body was in such a state of shock, that his mind shut down to cause unconsciousness.

Doug inhaled deeply and rubbed his face. He was worn out himself, and it was only because Tom’s suffering was done for the evening and he was lost in oblivion that Doug went to lie down on the couch. He refused to use the blanket nearby even though he was chilly; it felt wrong to have it when Tom had practically nothing.

Passing one last glance at the computer for the night, he muttered a despondent “good night, Tom” before he let himself go to sleep for the night.