He had long since lost track of time. Minutes, hours, days—none of it mattered anymore. All he knew was that they never let him stand, never allowed him to retain even a shred of dignity. Instead, they made him crawl like a worm, dragging his body across the cold floor as they lashed at him with whips, floggers, and canes, their laughter echoing in the darkness. The beatings were constant, brutal, and unrelenting, and the things they made him do... his stomach churned anytime he remembered.
He tried to fight the first few times but they were stronger and they beat him to an inch of his life. He really thought he was going to die.
At the beginning, he refused to beg. They wanted him to beg for mercy. They wanted him to cry but he refused, fiercely holding on to his pride. He was a man.
A man.