“Fashioned by the Chinese, they say. An ancient treatment. Use to cure people of pains ……”
Out of a carved wooden box, Yothin held up his little surprise. Not surprised at the frown that knotted the prisoner’s brow.
In your case, Yothin’s cruel gaze informed Maciste’s look .. used to do the opposite. Yothin put the needles to other purposes. He sensed the tension building in his prisoner’s torso. He caught a clench of a fist, the contraction of the muscles of an arm. Those taut belly muscles tensioned even further. Fear of pain setting into granite rock.
The prisoner was catching on. He knew the needle was for him. A box full of long fine needles. Intended for to exact his cooperation. It was just that the sucker didn’t know how.
“Ingeniously adapted. Specially improved for my purposes.” Yothin scoffed. “Here? In Hellgate? Who’s into curing pains?”
Yothin was holding the long fine needle up by the handle. An intense look of concentration had entered his prisoner’s face. That rush of blood to Yothin’s crutch gave an extra lurch. This prisoner was getting his own rush, Yothin suspected, one of anxiety. Born of unknown fears.
“Pushed into the skin – so fine, so razor sharp at the tip. A snip to slide it in. Far in. Slide it under muscle .. easy.”
Yothin let the idea sit. Both of them gazing intently at the needle held up in Yothin’s hand. Yothin twirled in tauntingly between finger and thumb. It caught the mid-day sun. Throwing off a menacing spark of light.
Chalk and cheese …….. Yothin bloomed with a growing rush of power at the tops of his legs .. his prisoner feeling a chill growing at the bottom of his spine. Yothin stayed silent. Twirling the taunt in his fingers. He let the idea fester for a while.
“On the skin …… no more than a bee sting. But deep inside. These edges …..”
Yothin ran a finger down the length of the steel pin.
“ …. roughened up. Grinding their way deep into muscle … gouging out a path through searing flesh. Scraping at tortured muscle far inside the flesh …”
He broke off his stare at the needle’s promise. His gaze turned on the prisoner. Instinctively the two foes locked eyes. Yothin raised his eyebrows, his head cocked quickly to one side. A look that asked, Get what I mean? His fingers twisted the needle .. suggesting the gouging as the torture was gyrated deep under tortured muscle.
Yothin shoved the carved box of his needles under Maciste’s nose. He rattled it to hold his prisoner’s attention. Dozens of the evil needles. Different sizes, different thicknesses.
“Even better combined with a few little extras ……
With a surge of unstoppable satisfaction at the tops of his own legs, Yothin savoured that shiver passing chillingly down his hopeless prisoner’s spine.