David and Glass - 1. Chapter 1

Part I

Heroics

The Prince had become accustom to the dark, damp room. The smell of blood and burnt flesh still consumed to chamber. He looked down at his body. Burn marks and gaping gashes covered his legs and thighs. He was dressed in only black boxer-briefs. He had been tied to this cold, metal chair for days now. Though without windows, Prince Jonathan had no sure way of telling time.

His torso and up was still untouched. The door behind Jonathan opened again. The sound of this door caused Jonathan’s stomach to turn. He swallowed hard. Every time that door opened, something terrible was done to his body.

The figure passed by Jonathan’s chair. The man wore a black mask which was cold and emotionless.

In one hand he held a briefcase, which he set down on the floor. In the other he held a glass of water. He offered the glass by placing it on Jonathan’s lips. Jonathan tipped his head back slightly and the man tipped the glass allowing the cold drink to flow into Jonathan’s mouth. He swallowed gratefully. Jonathan was rarely allowed a drink.

After the first gulp, the man pulled the glass away from Jonathan. Jonathan murmured in discontent. He wanted to finish the glass, his thirst had still not yet been quenched.

“My name is Mr. Glass,” the man said. This had become a ritual. The man always introduced himself just before he began. Other than those few words, the man never spoke. That phrase always came out in the same monotone.

Jonathan simply returned an angry stare.

Mr. Glass opened his briefcase and chose a wrench from the myriad of instruments. He placed the wrench on the tip of Jonathan’s right forefinger. He clamped the wrench down on the top of Jonathan fingernail. Then slowly and rough, Mr. Glass ripped the nail from the finger. The pain caused Jonathan to cry out. “FUCK!” He screamed. “You bastard!”

Mr. Glass did not waver. He continued the process on each of Jonathan’s fingers. Jonathan began to try to not respond to the searing pain. Each time Mr. Glass removed a fingernail, the anticipation made the actual pain so much worse. If Jonathan could manage to not respond he hoped that Mr. Glass would be discouraged.

However with a steady hand, Mr. Glass continued the removal of each nail with an emotionless, yet visceral demeanor.

Once all of Jonathan’s nails were gone, Mr. Glass returned the wrench to the briefcase. Jonathan prayed that Mr. Glass would such the case and leave. But instead he heard the light sound of metal clinking. Mr. Glass turned around with a hammer in one hand and a handful of steel nails in the other.

Mr. Glass aimed the steel point carefully in the center of Jonathan’s tender nail bed. “No, please,” Jonathan begged.

Mr. Glass swung the hammer forcefully down upon the nail. The steel pierced through Jonathan’s fingertip. Jonathan screamed and writhed in pain. He began to scream curse words directed at Mr. Glass.

Mr. Glass began lining up another nail. Jonathan began to beg again, “No, no, no… please.” The hammer pounded down on the nail shooting it through another one of Jonathan’s fingers. The pain became so terrible that Jonathan’s screams devolved to audible gurgles of pain.

1

The large oak desk centered in the huge office shook as the King slammed his fist down in anger. The gold, decorative name plate reading KING ROBERT SAUL bobbled and fell onto the oriental carpet below.

King Robert had never felt so helpless. He lifted his fist off of the newspaper reading PRINCE JONATHAN STILL MISSING. The Chief Inspector had still not turned up any leads on the disappearance of the King’s only son. Having lost his wife three years ago, Jonathan was all he had in the way of family.

He was beginning to feel regret. He had not always been a kind father. Like his father before him, the King simply felt that a tough hand was the surest way to encourage a tough son. The fact that his son would soon be the king was King Robert’s primary motive. Every decision seemed to revolve around Jonathan’s future position.

With no leads to suggest even how his son was taken, the King began to lose hope. It seemed that a miracle would be the only thing that could bring his son home now.

2

Jonathan had lost control of much of his body. Pain had caused him to lose whatever fight he had left. He glanced at his hands. Ten nails had been hammered into his fingertips. Each nail jutted out in different directions making the disgusting sight even more sinister.

The worst part was that Mr. Glass was still not finished. Having put his hammer back, he grabbed his scalpel. This particular scalpel seemed to be Mr. Glass’s favorite instrument, as he had experimented with it earlier on Jonathan’s lower body.

He placed the blade on Jonathan’s cheek. The cold metal caused Jonathan to push his head as far back as he could in a feeble attempt to escape the sharp edge. However Mr. Glass simply pressed down causing a gash on his cheek.

3

David burst through the door to the warehouse, his gun drawn. The drug bust had gone completely wrong and now he was on the run from the drug dealers. He was pretty confident they had not seen him sneak away into this empty warehouse.

David thought about the loss of his partner. Officer Reese had been his first partner. David, only twenty-three, had been learning so much from the senior officer. Now was not the time to wallow in grief. He had to wait to see if the dealers were going to back down.

David’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a muffled scream. It seemed as though, somewhere deep in the warehouse, someone was screaming. David began to sneak further in, making sure to keep his gun ready to fire.

He heard the scream again. It was much closer. From the first large chamber David had stepped into, he came across a hallway. At the end of this long, dark hallway, there was a door. It sounded as though the screams were coming from the other side of this door.

He placed his hand carefully on the doorknob. There was no locking mechanism visible. David turned the knob and threw open the door.

The open door revealed a man adorning a black mask with a scalpel pressed up against a young man’s eye. The young man was tied to a metal chair. Much of his lower body was covered in cuts, and his fingers each had nails driven into them.

David’s quick reflexes caused him to shoot right away. The man in the mask was in the perfect position to turn the situation around if David gave him even the slightest bit of leeway. The man in the mask fell backwards, away from the victim, dropping the scalpel.

David ran up to the masked man. Without warning he leapt at David, causing David to lose the grip on his gun. Wrestling the masked man to the ground was not difficult due to the gunshot wounds. David reached for the closest weapon, the masked man’s scalpel.

David sliced the only bit of flesh he could see, the masked man’s throat. It began to bleed profusely. The man fell back, dead.

When David turned towards the victim, he got a better look, “Prince Jonathan!”

“Help,” Jonathan managed to whisper.

David rushed to his side. Carefully he undid the ropes holding the Prince to the chair. Jonathan had no strength left and once freed he simply fell back into the chair. David helped Jonathan out of the chair. With his arms wrapped around Jonathan’s body, David helped guide the young Prince out of the dark room which had been his prison cell.

David carefully exited the warehouse, wary of the drug dealers. It seemed they had left.

4

Jonathan gasped as the fresh air invaded his senses. The cool night, the shimmering stars, and the calm breeze all seemed to welcome Jonathan back to reality. For the first time in a long time, Jonathan began to feel hopeful.