Sadist, Masochist, Human

"AAAHHH!!! O-one..."

"No, stop—"

He broke his ring finger and howled.

"T-t-two..."

I ran at him, taking him down with a flying tackle. I pinned his wrists to the ground.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!?" Even for the masochist this was insane.

He was crying now.

"I wasn't g-getting the punishment I deserved. I w-was just helping y-you."

You know how people say it's creepy when somebody's mouth smiles, but their eyes don't? Well, I can tell you from firsthand experience that the opposite is even worse. His face was crying, saddened, and in agony, but his eyes glittered knowingly. He knew full well what he was doing to me.

The sadist had always been pure evil, but the masochist had only been annoying until then. At that moment, I realized that he was every bit as evil as the sadist was.

I saw red. I attacked the masochist with everything I had, punching him, clawing at him, bashing his head against the floor. Only when he orgasmed and stilled beneath me could I snap myself back to reality.

I saw the human, my friend, beaten and bloody. Because of me.

"Oh my God!" I screamed. I scrambled off of him.

"I'm so sorry! I...I couldn't help myself." Even to me my excuse sounded weak. All I had done is prove to him that I was just like the sadist. He had to have hated me.

He got up and went to the medicine cabinet, bandaging up his broken fingers. He went to the mirror and examined himself, cleaning his cuts.

When he turned to me I couldn't look him in the eye.

"I hurt you. I'm sorry."

He walked up to me. I braced myself for a beating, but instead he cupped my face and gave me a loving peck on the lips.

That certainly got my attention. The kiss wasn't exactly sexual, but it was affectionate. He hugged me, gently stroking my back.

It's okay, his touch said. I forgive you.

I hugged him back. After a minute he pulled away. He pointed at himself, then the door.

"You need to go back to your cell?"

He nodded.

"Okay. I'll see you later."

He nodded again before making his leave.

When he came back a few hours later with my food, I decided to try and get to know my new ally.

"Can you talk at all?" I asked him.

He shook his head.

"Why not? The other two can talk."

He shrugged helplessly. He hung his head a bit.

I knew absolutely nothing about this man. I had no clue what was wrong with him, how long he had been like this, or how he got here. It didn't matter, though. He was the only person I had in the world.

"Listen to me."

He looked up.

"The New Philistine Kingdom is in its death throes. It'll fall any day now. When that happens, we're getting out of here. Until then, we're in this together."

He nodded, smiling a little.

Before he went back to his own cell, he hugged me, lightly kissing my cheek.

*****

The next person to come in the room was the sadist.

He approached me, and to my surprise, kissed me. It wasn't the tender, sweet kiss the human gave me, this was passionate and overtly sexual. His tongue probed hungrily inside my mouth.

"Hey, baby. I missed you."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"What is this? Sir?" I added.

"Oh, shush. I'm not doing anything. Can't I just miss my baby?"

This was a trick of some sort, I just had no clue what was happening.

He picked me up and put me in his lap, kissing me deeply again.

His head cocked to the side a bit.

"Baby, you've got something on your face."

I raised my hand to my face, but he stopped me.

"No, baby, let me get it."

He rubbed a spot on my cheek with his finger, muttering to himself.

"No, no...it's still there."

He started lightly scratched the spot with his finger nail.

"Damn, this is a stubborn spot..."

He gradually applied pressure until it hurt a little. I squirmed, but he held me down tight.

"This won't do at all..."

He licked his finger tip and rubbed me again, so hard it started burning. He went back to his fingernail, and I felt him break skin. He was being completely deliberate now.

"Sir, please stop!"

"Hush, baby. Let me take care of you."

He ground his nail into my face, scraping deeper and deeper. Blood poured down my cheek.

"There, I think I almost got it."

He used two fingers to pry open the wound and scratch the inside. I cried out.

"Okay, it's gone. I'm happy. My baby should be nice and clean. In fact..."

He got up, and I couldn't think about anything but the pain. I was vaguely aware of him opening the medicine cabinet. He came back with rubbing alcohol.

"I want my baby to be clean for me."

He stomped me down, pinning me in place. My eyes closed instinctively when he started pouring it into the wound.

A searing, burning pain unlike any I had ever experienced exploded in my cheek. It was excruciating, and it just kept going. I screamed until my throat was completely raw.

Once he was done I heard him laugh and felt his release land on me. Suddenly his laugh stopped instantly. I looked up, and in the pained daze I was in I saw the human, looking absolutely horrified.

I slowly got to my feet. I looked closer and saw his eyes shiny with tears. I could barely move, talk, or think, but I didn't want to see my friend look that sad.

"Don't feel guilty," I told him in a quiet, raspy voice. "You're not the one who did this to me. He did."

He nodded, but his eyes were still wide and sad.

He cleaned me up in the shower and dressed my wound. He still looked distraught. I needed him to know that it wasn't his fault.

I took a page out of his book and kissed him, like how a mother would kiss her child. I cupped his face and looked him in his deep brown eyes.

"Please, don't be sad. If we're gonna survive this with our sanity intact, we need to trust each other."

He gave me a little nod.

"Look, I promise not to hold anything the sadist does to me against you. Do you think you could forgive me for what I do to the masochist?"

He nodded again, a small smile forming.

"We're brothers now," I assured him. "And brothers need to stick together." We hugged. He had a smile on his face as he left to go back to his own cell.

*****

Time passed. Both the sadist and the masochist got more ruthless and extreme. The sadist fucked me several times and the masochist turned to self-harm when he thought I wasn't punishing him enough. Both of us had injuries all the time.

Even so, it was all so much more bearable with a friend to turn to. He and I came to an understanding. We needed the companionship to stop us from losing our humanity. We were there to be a shoulder the other could cry on, lick the other's wounds. We would be able to survive as long as we didn't turn on each other.

Some of the few moments of happiness I ever experienced were with him. We'd lay on my bed and hug each other. I told him stories of my life from before all this. It told him about my home and my girlfriend. He was a great listener.

Whenever the sadist hurt me, or when I hurt the masochist, he and I would comfort each other. His affection, his touch, his caring, loving humanity kept me sane. I tried my best to do the same for him. We became like brothers.

One day I was laying on my cot, when I heard something coming from above ground. It wasn't very loud, but it had to have been big for me to hear it as clearly as I could.

I dared to allow myself to get hopeful. Could this be the facility getting seized? Were we finally going to get out of here?

I waited as the sounds went on for hours, getting louder and softer as time passed. Eventually, things died down. I hoped it meant me and my friend could finally be rescued.

The door to my cell opened and he walked in. I could tell from his body language that he was the sadist.

"Come with me, boy."

He grabbed my arm and pulled me up, using his key to open the dividing door and walk me to his cell.

He sat me down and went to his cot, which actually had blankets. He pulled something out and pushed me down, straddling me.

"I'm not an idiot, pup." He said. For the first time his voice didn't sound so cocky. "I know what's happening outside."

"But, isn't that a good thing, Sir? You'll be free."

He shook his head.

"I'll never be free. What I had going here with you is the freest I could ever get."

He held up what he was holding, and I saw that it was a shank. It was made out of what looked like a plastic tray, and had been broken and molded into a sharp point.

All the blood drained from my face.

"Please, Sir, no! You don't have to do this!"

He chuckled. "You see, me and the whelp were already dead. Our days had been numbered from the start."

I had no clue what he meant by that, but I was a little bit more interested in the weapon he was holding.

"We talked to each other and decided that we wanted to do one last thing before it was all over."

I heard banging on the door leading to the outside world, and voices on the other side of it.

"This is the US Military! This camp has been taken down!"

"Yes, please help us! Get us out of here!" I screamed. "Hurry!"

I heard movement on the other side of the door. I turned back to the man on top of me. His face twitched, and when he spoke, he was the masochist.

"The two of us decided that this needed to be done."

He raised the weapon.

"We're gonna blow the door!" I heard a soldier call.

"Yes, do it, just hurry!" I pleaded.

His face twitched again.

"You've resisted me so far, kid," the sadist admitted. "But I'll win in the end. I'll get the last laugh."

To my utmost horror, he turned the weapon so that the tip was pointed at his exposed throat.

My eyes widened in realization. He laughed evilly.

"We know that you care for the third one, so the worst pain you can be in would be if we took him away from you when you're so close."

"PLEASE, HURRY! MY FRIEND IS ABOUT TO DIE! HELP US!!"

I struggled with all my might, but he could still hold me down.

"It's too late, boy," the sadist sneered.

He raised the weapon and held it at arm's length.

"NO, PLEASE, STOP! I'LL DO ANYTHING!"

He smirked, and his face twitched two more times.

"This is the ultimate punishment." The masochist said.

"This is the ultimate torture!" The sadist roared.

He plunged the shank into his jugular, twisting it and dragging it around. Blood poured out of him and covered me. I wailed, cried, screamed the loudest I had in my entire life. After a moment, he dropped the bloody weapon and went limp, falling off of me.

I heard a loud bang, and the door flew open. Soldiers burst in through the now busted door.

"Help him!" I cried. "Save him! He's gonna die!!"

Some soldiers went to help the man. As he was carried away, I saw his face, still alive and looking back at me. It was the human that I saw.

*****

They couldn't save him. The human, my only friend in that hell, had been killed and I was helpless to stop it. I cried so much when I heard the news. I wept for so long.

I couldn't find out anything about who he was. None of his DNA led to anything, and there were no records kept in the facility. I still saw to it that he had a proper burial.

I was lauded, awarded for my bravery and resolve. I learned that I had been held captive for 89 days. Some days I still have a hard time convincing myself I ever left at all. I was still trapped there, trying desperately to think my way out.

I found some comfort back home with my family and girlfriend, but I know that the memory of the human will always haunt me. He'll always be my biggest regret, my deepest shame.

Even so, I don't think he would want me to be sad for the rest of my life on his account. Instead, I made it my life's goal to tell his story. People have treated me like a hero since I got back home, but the real hero was him. He overcame so much more than I did, helped me when he had no reason to. I know that without him, I wouldn't be alive and sane today. I owe him everything.

I never knew his name. I only would, and only ever will, call him the human. That's what he was to me, a burning fire of the human spirit, providing light to me in so much darkness.

I will see to it that you're never forgotten.

I'm so sorry I couldn't save you like I promised.

I'll think of you until the day I die. I owe you my life.

Thank you, so much, for being my friend.

For being human.