#svetja boyko

[niennandil-me-writes]

Goretober 17: Torture

CN: vomit

[Liu Xinyu belongs to Eli.]

The aromatic smell of freshly brewed tea filled the room. Liu Xinyu carefully set out the earthen cups on the low table.

“The leaves I am using for this brew are very hard to come by in Doskvol,” he explained. “If prepared just right it has a slightly stimulating effect, heightening one’s focus and strategic thinking. I like serving it for business meetings for that reason.”

“I don’t know what business you would want to do with me.” The man sitting on the other side of the table seemed remarkably underdressed for the upscale tea house, in a dirty shirt and shabby trousers. He did his best to seem nonchalant but kept nervously shuffling on the cushion he was seated on.

Liu smiled. “No need to rush things. First, may I offer you some tea?”

The man’s eyes darted from the kettle to Liu. He licked his lips. “No, thanks.”

Liu sighed. “A shame, really. But as you will.” He raised his voice but didn’t turn as he asked: “How about you, Boyko?”

“I could use a cup, Mr. Liu.” The big person standing at the door with her arms folded was appropriately dressed for a job at this place, but she still seemed like she was in the wrong part of town, like she would belong much more with the sweating man on the other side of the table than Liu Xinyu.

Liu smiled and poured two cups of tea as Boyko walked over. He handed her one of the cups, which she took with a thank and a court bow before walking around the table to stand behind their guest.

Liu picked up his own cup and inhaled the fragrant steam. Boyko slurped his tea in two quick gulps and then set down the cup on the table.

After a minute of silence, the man asked quickly: “So what did you bring me here for?” He was straining his neck not to turn around to Boyko.

A tranquil smile spread on Liu’s lips. “I see we are getting to business. Well, since you asked: You happen to have information in your possession that I am very interested in. And I am more than willing to pay a fair price for it.”

“I know nothing!”

“A curious assertion, given that I haven’t even specified what information I am after.” He finally took his first sip of tea and hummed with approval. “I assume we can stop dancing around the subject then, since you are already aware.”

The man shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, man!” He almost jumped up as Boyko’s big hand settled on his left shoulder.

Liu took another sip and looked into the corner of the room in contemplation. “Have you ever heard of Lingchi?”

“What?”

“It is also known as the Death of a Thousand Cuts,” Liu explained as he set down his cup. “It is a method of execution. The executioner cuts into or slices off the flesh of the restrained victim, bit by bit. The death can last hours, depending on the skill and mercy of the executioner. I have witnessed one such incident myself, in fact. The man conducting it was quite compassionate, slitting the criminal’s throat after just three cuts. A shame, really. But then again, the poor sod had lost his voice from screaming half an hour ago.” He picked up the cup again and turned it around in his long fingers. “I have heard of one particular case where the executioner worked with such a skill and delicacy that the wounds couldn’t be seen or felt at first. Only when she was finished and set the last cut did the flesh separate, and in a rapid chain reaction the skin and meat peeled off the bones within seconds.” He laughed, startling the man who had turned chalk white over the course of his talking. “How lucky you are that I am not that cruel.”

“I don’t know what you want from me.” The man tried to stand up in a panic, but this time, it was an iron hook that settled on his shoulder. “If I tell you, she’ll kill me!” he hissed.

“I am sure there are ways to prevent that. Boyko is quite an experienced bodyguard. Isn’t that right?”

“Sure, Mr. Liu.”

“I ain’t telling you!”

Liu sighed and set down the cup. “Well, then you leave me no choice.” He gestured to Boyko.

This time, the man did turn around. He saw Boyko take off his glasses and carefully fold them before she set them down on the table. Then she grabbed the man by the collar and pulled him backwards, to the back part of the room.

“Wait, no!” His voice got swallowed by a breathless scream as Boyko’s fist met his stomach with full force. He spit and gagged, no longer wondering why one half of the room had seemed much dirtier than the other.

Liu poured himself another cup of tea as he watched Boyko beat the crap out of his guest. “Speak up if you’d like to return to our business talk, my dear.”

Boyko ceased his abuse for a moment to let the man talk, but he just shook his head again. “She’ll kill me.”

“You must be one dense motherfucker to think what’s happening here is better,” Boyko said. He delivered one last punch to his face to keep him to dizzy from getting up, then turned to his boss: “I think some more force might be necessary.”

Liu nodded and Boyko got up to take a hammer from off the wall.

“No, please!”

Another scream and a loud crunching sound. Blood drenched the shabby trousers at the knee and stained the hammer.

“Ready to talk?” Boyko asked.

The man shook his head and whimpered. Boyko crouched down next to him. “Primary hand?” The man looked up in fearful confusion. She sighed and grabbed his left wrist to hold it against the floor before bringing down the bloody hammer again.

Boyko stuck his tongue to the corner of his mouth. “So I’m not a physician, but I’m pretty sure that hand is done for.” She smirked. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.” She held up her hook. “But we can move on to the other. Make it more challenging.”

The man shook his head again and then squirmed and threw up over the floor. “please,” he gasped. “i’ll talk… whatever you want…”

“How nice to hear,” Liu smiled. He had taken out a paper fan to waft away the putrid smell of the vomit. “Boyko, please bring our esteemed guest closer to me so I can hear what he has to say to me. But not too close,” he added.

Boyko clicked her tongue and grabbed the man by the shoulders to pull him back to the tea table, where he spilled all he had to say.

At the end, Liu nodded, seeming content. “I thank you for your cooperation. Boyko, did you catch all that?”

“I’m your bodyguard, not your secretary,” Boyko said. “Memorizing stuff isn’t exactly in my skill set.”

“That is why I have you for other things,” Liu smiled. “Thank you for your help. I think that will be all.” He rose from his cushion.

“And our guest?” Boyko asked, pointing his chin at the disheveled crying man.

“Small fish,” Liu said dismissively. “Let him take a swim in the Dosk.”

The man paled even more as Boyko nodded. “On it, boss.”

#my writing #oc writing #goretober #goretober 2023 #liu xinyu #svetja boyko #blades in the dark #gore #torture

[niennandil-me-writes]

Goretober 11: Bones

CN: breaking bones, suggestive

[Cadaver belongs to Simon. Genesis (briefly mentioned) belongs to @ghoulcaro.]

You don’t know how you ended up in this situation. Okay, scratch that, you know pretty much completely how you ended up in this situation. You messed with the wrong person – as usual – said the wrong thing – really, why is everyone so thin-skinned? – and now this rich dude you were having a semi-friendly conversation with – okay, mostly hostile – sicced his attack dog on you. His attack dog being a hook-handed Orc by the name of Boyko who might not be much taller than you but is about twice as wide (which isn’t hard, admittedly). And she just smashed her fist into your skull, which explains the haziness of your thoughts.

Now he just stands there, head tilted as she looks you over, as if he’s trying to assess whether you’ll do the smart thing and piss off. Which proves Boyko doesn’t know you in the slightest. (Or, well, maybe he’s just squinting because he took off his glasses before he started his attack. Maybe a bit of column A, a bit of column B.)

You hunch over as if you’re about to, well, piss off, when in reality you are slipping on your brass knuckles beneath your coat. Boyko realizes what you’re doing, but too late because by the time she moves you are already smashing a brass-reinforced fist covered in purple flames into her jaw. There’s a loud cracking noise that you know all too well, sweeter than any music. You follow it up with a left hook. Unfortunately, she dodges to the side. Even more unfortunately, when you try to take a step back to guard, something yanks you back. You look down and see his hook, well, hooked, around two of your ribs. Oh shit.

“If you wanted to bone me you could have just – “

You get interrupted by a fist to the chin. It was a bad line anyway.

“- seems like you got me hooked!” you yell as you elbow him in the face. Enough to make him sway for a moment, but not enough to buy you enough time to unhook yourself. Boyko regains his balance and delivers a kick to your leg. Another cracking sound as your bone breaks. Not good, is what you think as you go to one knee.

She wrestles you to the ground and pushes your face into the dirt. Her knee is on your spine, and her hand locks around your arm to twist it painfully on your back.

“You know, tibia honest…,” you say, wittily commenting on the broken leg bone.

He twists your arm further until it snaps as well. You yelp out in pain before saying: “…I don’t find this quite as humerus anymore.”

Boyko leans over your shoulder and spits blood into the dirt. And a tooth as well, you notice with a satisfaction that might have brought a grin to your face if it wasn’t already stuck on there. You only landed one punch, but at least that was a good one.

“You spend your daily life as a skeleton and those are the jokes you come up with?” he asks in a gruff voice that you can’t help but notice is slightly slurred.

“I try to adapt my material to the audience’s intellect.”

“You want me to break your other arm as well?”

“Oh, yes, harder daddy!”

To your surprise, he lets out an actual chuckle. “Sorry, honey, you ain’t my type.” The pressure on your spine intensifies.

“Really? I am told I can be quite the charmer.”

“I’m more into cute smart women,” she says. “And I don’t think you fall under a single one of those categories.”

Before you can figure out whether Genesis is enough of a woman to qualify, you feel her weight shift around, and then suddenly her knees aren’t on your back anymore, but next to your temples instead. Pressure builds up in your head.

“Oh fuck, I always wanted to die like that!”

“Figured,” she comments as she crushes your skull with her thighs.

#my writing #oc writing #goretober #goretober 2023 #gore #cadaver crypt #svetja boyko