"He knew what was going to happen but there was no physical way for him to brace himself."
The healer came into Gerard's room to find him sprawled on the floor, screaming hysterically from the needles that had been pushed into him as a result from his fall. The healer had placed him back on the bed, pushing even more needles in by doing so.
The healer then went about slowly pulling each needle out one by one. With the ones that had been pushed in, the healer had to use their nails to dig deep to get a grip on them. Gerard felt like he was going through it all over again, although the drugs had worn off.
When the healer was done, he cleaned off a bit of the blood and then left silently. Gerard waited , feeling much better now that the needles were out of him. However the feeling of them inside him would remain imprinted in his mind forever.
The next time the tormentors, or the blackbirds, as Gerard had begun to call them, came in, Gerard was not terribly scared --- nothing could be as bad as what they last did to him.
They forced him to get up and brought him back where they had him hanging by the thumbs. They re-shackled him there, and Gerard felt the pull on his thumbs instantly. One of them left and came back with a large cart on wheels.
The blackbirds bent over the cart, taking things from it. When they pulled away, Gerard could see that they had branding irons in their hands. He knew what was going to happen but there was no physical way for him to brace himself. When they came closer, Gerard was barely able to see that the end of the branding iron formed letters before one of them burned into him.
Gerard tried to scream as he felt the metal scalding into his already ruined skin, but his voice was raspy and inaudible. He had screamed so much earlier that he had lost his voice. He instead struggled against his restraints as they brought the second one to the fatty pad below his umbilicus.
They were all aligned, and Gerard though they might be spelling a word. Another brand sizzled and seared him, and he tried kicking his legs helplessly, but to no avail. Like with all their tortures, they proceeded slowly.
When they were done, they threw him back onto his bed. One of them ran a finger over his scorched skin. Gerard winced. He looked down and saw that the word 'SLUT' had been burned into him.
"A reminder." one blackbird grunted before they both turned away.
Mikey sighed as he updated the band's website. They had resorted to begging for donations from their fans.
A heavy reward fee had been set up for Gerard, and Mikey was busting his hump to make sure that the reward was so tempting, no man would possibly be able to resist.
This of course, was taking quite a bit of sacrifice. Mikey had sold nearly his entire comic collection. He was selling practically everything he owned. He had put much of his life savings into it as well, along with all of his spending money.
Ray and Frank were helping out as well, contributing all the cash they could muster. They had also been receiving donations from fellow celebrities and friends.
The reward was accumulating to such a grand prize, that people had begun to call in, lying about having found Gerard in an attempt to obtain the cash. Usually however, these plans were not very thought through and it would not take long for them to realize that they had no idea where their singer was. Since then they've become much more choosy about who they met with.
Still the lack of a lead was causing Mikey to get desperate. They were running out of cash to offer and things to sell, and still the real kidnapper did not seem anywhere near stepping forward.
Frowning, he got down his notepad. He sat in his room for the rest of the day, trying to formulate any new plans or ideas. He was going to find Gerard --no matter what it took, no matter how long it took -- he was going to find him, even if it meant losing everything else on the way there.
Next chapter: "Red Sun rising! Drown without inhaling! Within, the dark holds hard..."