Damn the memories. Damn me. So real, so true, and thus useless. What can they bring? What can they show? A little of the past, too much can last in the calm mind, a mind, unlike mine.
A gasp of air and a stare from terrified empty eyes; blank you might say, sad for yesterday. The blackened chains stretched out into the void in every direction. The blood-soaked hooks hung from his wanting skin.
The distant gears began to turn, and the manacles pulled with unrelenting force — first tiny pieces and then horrifying chunks of matted meat and crust. One by one his limbs separated until just his head hung from a single barb, his eyes blinked in confirmation of the finality of the procedure. The darkness began to swirl before his powerless stare, and the entire method of torture began to reverse itself as his body, reconstructed, was whole again.
As he looked down at his being, complete over, he could hear the screams of the others in the distance, and the sound of the gears sprang to life once more.