forum "I would burn the world for you" (OxO Closed)

Started December 01, 2022 by @ElderGod-yellowqueen

tune

(ohoho 👀)

Bel had only read about things like this when he was holed up in his room. While he enjoyed reading them, he had never expected something like this to happen–especially with a man as handsome as Nico. Leaning up, Bel quickly kisses Nico before setting his head back on the pillow. He carefully reaches up and feels the solid wood of the headboard beneath his hands.

He knows that this will be different than all the times in the past. Nico had been gentle before, but Bel knows that he had been holding back. Now that their unsaid barrier had been crossed, Bel's going to expect the intensity to be raised tenfold. It's something he's quite ready for.

(hehe :D )

Nico sat back on his heels, taking a moment to look down at Bel. Wholly submissive, wholly ready. But no, Nico was going to take his time. Bel would be whining and begging by the time he was done and he still didn't plan to give in just yet. Bel needed to be taught a lesson and he was ready to teach it. Nico leaned down, hovering over him and just barely brushing his lips across Bel's but never fully kissing him. He moved onto his cheek before attaching his lips to his neck.

Apparently, his work wasn't noticeable enough. Nico needed to rectify that. He went over each sore bruise on the skin and darkened it. No one would question it now whether Nico had a lover or not. He did and it was Nico.

Bel's breath hitches as Nico almost kisses him, but then moves on to latch onto his neck. His skin makes the marks subtler, much harder to notice in comparison to someone with Nico's skin tone. Nevertheless, Bel's sure they'll be noticeable when Nico's done with him after the night. His hum turns into a small groan as Nico works, his fingers tightening around the headboard.

Well, at least Bel's sure no attractive waiters will be eyeing him after this–not without risking Nico's temper.

Nico's lips pulled up in a smirk as he heard the sound he elicited from Bel. It was music to his ears. When he was satisfied with he marks on his neck, he slowly worked his way to his chest and stomach. Every piece of skin was met by Nico's lips. Nothing was left untouched. He left soft kisses and left hard ones that left another mark or two. He had every plan to torture Bel tonight. His thoughts, his heart, his senses were all Bel. It was why he never saw it coming.

The window broke as a man swung through it. Another followed after him and the door was kicked open. There were hands grabbing Nico, pulling him off. Hands were grabbing Bel, pulling him to his feet. Blades were drawn and pressed against each of their necks. Where were the others? Why didn't they see this? What had happened to them? Likely the same things that had happened to him.

Their faces were covered so he couldn't see any of them. They didn't speak, they didn't make any noise. Nothing to identify them by. Nico struggled to get out of their grasp, to get to Bel, but the blade was only dug into his skin and he felt the blood drip down his neck. Then someone very familiar walked into the room. Ronan Erro. Leader of the brotherhood, otherwise known as the most bloodthirsty witch hunter. He had been hunting Nico for years. He had only succeeded once in capturing him. Nico wouldn't let that happen again.

"Well look who it is boys, Nicandros Callistar. The king who never will be. You escaped me once but you won't do it again. Not this time." Ronan looked at Bel. "And who's your little lover here? No matter, he'll die with you."

(D: oh no)

Bel's eyes are closed, his body relaxed, his entire will submitted to the man above him. The first crash causes him to startle, his eyes opening as he sits up–but all he sees is a man before Nico's yanked from off of him and Bel's being dragged himself. He cries as his arms are pulled behind him and painfully twisted–held by a man three times Bel's size. Bel's breath hitches–for a much different reason than last–as a sharp blade is held to his throat. Panic bubbles in Bel's chest as his eyes cloud over.

The man, the leader, that enters causes Bel's eyes to widen. The king who will never be. He looks to Nico, then to the man. Surely he has to be lying. Nico wouldn't be–he couldn't– "Nico–" Bel whispers, his voice pleading as his hands begin to shake. The king. They're lying. Nicandros Callistar. They have to be lying.

(Oh yes :D )

Nico inhaled sharply. No. No! He was supposed to have more time to reveal himself. To tell Bel. And now it was ruined. He saw it the moment Bel looked at him. He opened his mouth to respond but Ronan beat him to it. "Oh you didn't know? Sorry to spoil the surprise." The man grinned. He walked closer to Bel. "I recognize you. Where have I seen you before?"

Nico growlerd. "You get away from him." He fought against the men holding him, the blade stinging as it cut into his skin more. "Bind his hands," Ronan said. "I don't need to lose another man because he decided to pull the air out of his lungs. And don't kill him just yet, I have plans." Nico was forced to the ground as the men wrestled to tie his arm behind his back.

Ronan approached the Prince, leaning in to get a good look. "I know who you are. Prince Belicoril. Oh will your father be pleased to see you. Or not, seeing your company. This is my lucky day. I've got the false king and a prince to return home. I can already feel my pickets getting heavy." He laughed, looking back at Nico on the ground who's nose was bleeding now. "I can't believe you let yourself fall in love again. Remember what happened last time? Because i do."

Of course I didn't know– Bel thinks. Of course he didn't know that Nico had been plotting his demise since before they even met. Bile forms in the back of his throat, his eyes sting, and he tries to struggle against the man's holding.

Bel jerks his head away, trying to move out of the man's scrutinizing glare, but his holder's grip is far too tight for Bel to get much of anywhere. "Who are you?" Bel chokes, trying to suppress his rising anxiety. Nico's forced to the ground and tied. His nose is bleeding. Knowing that seeing Nico bleed will only make him sick, Bel turns back to the man, to the leader. He raises his chin and grits his teeth. His stomach falls as the leader announces his name, his title, his father. Bel was supposed to have another week until his father noticed his absense. He was supposed to have more time until he was dragged back to Araniel. "Why do you come for us?"

Ronan just smiled at the prince. Teeth showing and utterly terrifying. He placed his hands behind his back, thoroughly enjoying this. "My name is Ronan. I'm your father's best witch hunter. I've been searching for this one ever since he escaped me last time, not something I plan on letting happen again. He's going to be locked up in the darkest hole for the rest of his days. Which won't be very long." He kicked Nico in the stomach, the latter groaning and attempting to curl into himself. "And I'm going to take you right back to your father's side. You're not supposed to be here. You're supposed to be on your way to getting married. I'm sure you father will be pleased with you, even more so when he sees the company you have." Obvsioulsy, he meant that the king would be very unpleased.

"Of course, that's with the assumption that this one behaves." He pointed at the man on the ground. "If not, well, it wouldn't be that hard to kill you and blame him." Ronan moved to kneel down beside Nico. "You hear that? I'll still kill your little prince if you don't behave yourself."

The shake in Bel's hands move towards the rest of his body, his knees rapidly weakening and threatening to collapse. Ronan is a man Bel has never heard of in his life–the witchhunters usually kept under firm lock and key. Cevineire is the closest to one he's ever met, and she's just the captain of the palace guard. Bel wishes he had Miran's strength to stand straight and spit into Ronan's eye, but he just shakes and tries to back away.

Despite all of the violent things hinted, nothing scares Bel more than the idea of meeting his displeased father, to look him in the eyes a face his verbal wrath. Afterwards he would face his usual punishment, but instead of the short few hour incriments of total darkness, Bel would face almost weeks of unending paranoia and torture. The sickening groan elicting from Nico makes Bel's blood run cold. "Stop–!" He shouts, thrashing against the man's hold. "You wouldn't dare–" Bel hisses. Nico will find a way out of this. He has to–

Ronan laughed, eyes widening in surprise. "After all of this, after knowing who this man is, you still want to protect him?" He shook his head. "There's no saving him now little prince. His time has run out. The sooner you accept that the better." He stood up, looking at his men. "Where are the rest of his men?"

"Secure-"

There was a blast of fire. Apparently, the men hadn't been as secure as they had thought. Kaillas had made a makeshift bomb and thrown it into the room. It hadn't been big enough to kill anyone but enough to throw everyone back and startle them. For someone so quiet and chasing quick and silent methods, this was very different for him. They were bleeding and hurt but they still rushed in fists and baldes ready.

It was a blur of movement for Nico. Everything was hurting, he was sure a couple of ribs were broken. He felt his body being picked up off the ground. He fought until Cassian's familiar face was in view. His hands were released but his body wasn't. "Bel! We have to-"

"We got him." Cassian was carrying him out, Braxton having taken Bel's arms and guided him out. They were a rush of men, running out if the inn and to the horses. He vaguely felt someone throw him kn a horse before someone mounted behind him and then they were off.

As suddenly as the men entered, an explosive detonates in the center of the room.The man holding Bel hostage is shocked back and bel makes his break for it, snatching his bag and shirt from the floor. He's fully clothed in an instant–his priorities out of order from the anxiety of the situation at hand. He looks for Nico, but he's lost in the insanity.

And then there's hands on Bel and before he can fight back, he finds himself looking right at Braxton. While the nerves make him shakey and weak, finding at least one friend in the crowd gives him strength to keep going. Going down the stairs ahead of them are Cassian and Nico, the latter carrying their leader.

They're on their horses in minutes and Bel allows himself to break down as soon as he knows Thicket will be able to steer himself with the rest of the horses.

Only a quarter of an hour later, news of an exploding inn in a neighboring town reaches three heirs.

Cassian had taken charge now whome their leader was incapacitated. "Laurent, Kaillas, double back and keep them off of our trail. No one can follow us." The two understood what he meant and broke off from the pair, the horses circling around and going back to the town. No one would get past the two alive. "Bel, Braxton we ride hard and we don't stop. Bel, you can say whatever you need to when we get there. Until then, shut your mouth." He didn't mean to be so harsh but it needed to be said.

Nico was stuck in his head. It was the psychological damage that was affecting him more than the physical pain. He could take it, the abuse the beatings. He could handle it. But seeing Ronan had Nico freezing. He was stuck in his head. He was back in that jail cell getting tortured. He couldn't think about anything else. It had been just over a year. A year since he had gotten out. He never thought he would see him again. But there he was. He was there and he had cone for Nico. He had threatened Bel. He was terrified. He stuck in that cell listening to the screams of his men, fighting the urge to scream himself at the torture.

Bel hadn't opened his mouth to begin with, but he doesn't object, not with the situation at hand. He just nods and leans down, wrapping his arms around Thicket's neck. Cassian's haste is understandable, but it doesn't excuse Bel's hundreds of questions.

He shakes quietly, withstanding his panic attack until it finally begins to ebb away nearly an hour after they set off from the inn. The jumbled pile of words in his mind finally begin to form coherent questions and statements. Nico is the leader of the Lisais. The leader who has been planning how to overthrow his family and not hesitate to kill them in the process. A sickening part of Bel's mind wonders if this entire relationship has been nothing but a ruse–another part in Nico's grand plan. The thought is painful, Bel gripping a portion of Thicket's mane to try and shoo it away.

The man–Ronan–had come for Nico. He had come to kill him and wasn't afraid to take Bel out in the process. Nothing but collateral damage to keep Nico in line. The man had ordered Nico to be bound because… he'll rip the air from their lungs– Bel goes cold, nearly losing his balance. Nico's a mage. The men around him are likely magic-weilders as well. They're going to kill me. Bel's anxiety begins to drown him again. This was all a lie and they're going to use me and kill me.

They would ride hard for a day. Twenty-four hours, maybe less depending how hard the horses coukd go. Their horses would be pushed to the breaking point, it might very well kill them. And as attached at they were to their horses, if it came down to the horse or them, they were choosing themselves. They were choosing their king over the horses, not matter what lectures he might give them for it. If the horses survived, they would be out of commission for a very long time. Something Nico would still likely reprimand them for.

The sun faded in the sky as afternoon turned into evening and eventing turned into night, and still they rode. Laurent and Kaillas would catch up with them in a day or two. Wound wise, they were the most well off. Kaillas could preform no matter the physical damage done to his body. They were the best options to go hunt down anyone chasing them. It wouldn't be likely. Ronan knew better than to try to find their home. He had failed wverytime and had resulted to other means. This, this was because someone ratted them out. And when Cassian figured it out, he was going to kill them himself.

The moon slowly faded out of view as the sun peaked and morning came. Still they rode. No matter how much their horses wanted to stop, they rode. The sun rose and rose and still they rode. Until a noise was heard. A scout had seen them, had signaled their king was home and the situation was dire. They could tell from the tops of the trees. And then their makeshift home was revealed. Rows of tents winding through the trees where there was room on the ground. Healers and nurses had already lined up, waiting to received whatever came their way. Ambrose was at the head directing people where they needed to be.

The horses came to a stop and Cassian pulled his king off the horse. Ambrose was immediately by his side. Cassian speaking to the other man. "Ronan found us. He got to Nico. It messed him up in the head. I don't know how bad."

The day changes and Bel never calms down. He manages to keep his hyperventilating down and only sniffles occasionally into Thicket's mane. He doesn't address any of the men. He doesn't even look at them. Time passes quickly with a racing heart and a cough–which only seemed to get worse the more time went on. No matter how loud his body wants to be, Bel muffles them, his throat aching by the time they finally arrive at their destination.

A sixth man, one that the others know well, runs up to Cassian, holding Nico and taking him away. Bel stays silent, sliding off of Thicket and finally allowing him to rest. Thicket collapses on the ground; Bel's eyes sting.

Staring at the hubbub around the inn, the three siblings stand. They're clad in dark cloaks pulled over their heads, simple clothes replacing their usual elaborate and expensive clothing. Miran gestures for his sisters to stay put before pushing into the crowd, finding symbols on injured soldiers that answer questions Miran didn't want answered. The Witchhunters. Miran clenches his jaw just looking at them.

Despite his horrid reputation of being a slayer of thousands, Miran only raises his sword when necessary. The blood on his hands belongs to abusers and rapists, not the ichor of innocents. The air grows cold as Miran approaches one of the soldiers. He's nursing a violently cut arm. "Evening," Miran says before crouching beside him. "Now, can you tell me what exactly you're doing here without direct orders of the King?"

The two men carried Nico away and into a tent full of their healers and nurses. The physical wounds coukd be healed easily but Nico would have to battle the ones in his head on his own. It had taken him months just to be able to sleep through the night after he had escaped. He was reliving everything all over again.

Braxton approached Bel and gently took him by the arm. "Come with me," he said gently but he really wasn't giving Bel a choice. They all told Nico he should have said something earlier but he didn't. And now it was all coming to bite them. They couldn't have helped this. None of them could have. Braxton needed medical attention. The bleeding wound on his head said as much but he needed to get this dealt with first.

He took Bel to a tent. Not just any tent, but Nico's. A guard would be posted out front at all times to make sure Bel didn't run. Braxton realized the prince as they entered inside. Then he waited. He waited for the harsh words and the yelling and hitting and kicking. He waited. Bel needed to get his anger out before Nico came to. Nico wouldn't be able to handle it but Braxton could.

The man looked up at him. Great, another prince. Ronan only smiled. "I am your king's witch hunter. I have every authority to do as I please. Your father gives me free reign. I am in my perfect rights to be here." He only cackled. The man was clearly deranged and maybe a little bit crazy. It had to explain how he could torture so easily, without even flinching.

"Don't touch me," Bel demands, jerking out of Braxton's grip. He's still breathing heavily, his hands are shaking and he can't be touched or he might just spill over the edge. "Please," he adds, just to make sure that Braxton knows that Bel isn't mad at him… not directly. He rubs at his eyes, which are bloodshot and dried of all his tears. He wants to cry some more, but he knows his body doesn't have it in him.

Despite this, he follows Braxton to the tent, the same tent he saw them take Nico into. Bel hesitates, not wanting to see Nico now, but he knows Braxton won't take disobedience. Bel knows he's a prisoner. He's a tool, an asset, a pool of information for them to use and abuse and then throw him out. Swallowing his fear, Bel steps into the tent, but pointedly keeps his eyes to the ground.

He doesn't say anything. Bel takes his seat on the grassy floor and tucks his knees up to his chest. "Thank you," he says absently because he can't find anything else to say. He clenches his hands around his legs, staring a hole into the grass.

Miran stares at the man before exhaling sharply. The Witchhunter. The slaughter. The catalyst for thousands of problems among innocent people. "Rohan? Right?" Miran couldn't care less about getting his name right. "Now, I don't usually see you this far west. You're very far from my father's jurisdiction, and I don't think the Kingdom of Piadal will appreciate your witchhunts on their land." The man wouldn't be this far out of Araniel if he wasn't chasing something. Something within Miran's gut knows that their missions are the same.

Miran's hand grows cold. The crown prince spares a look over his shoulder to ensure his sisters are preoccupied with something else. "Now, there's one thing, Rian." He brings his hand carefully up the man's sliced arm, watching as crystals of ice begin to blossom along his skin. "Your only job is to hunt witches, but you've failed to notice the one brewing beneath your nose for twenty-five years." Miran's iced hand locks around the witchhunter's neck, squeezing tightly around his throat and main arteries. "As soon as I get my crown, I'm ending this damned witchhunt, but I suppose I could always start a little early."

(ive been waiting to drop this miran lore for months alskdfj)

Braxton watched Bel with a sad expression. He had hoped to avoid this fallout. He had hoped that Nico would have worked up the courage to finally say something. But he hadn't and now he had this to deal with as well. But Bel was hurt too, he had been deceived and lied to. This was messy. Knowing this, Braxton still spoke. "You knew from the beginning what we were bringing you back for. You have information we need. Information that will help us get into the palace. You knew that when you started your relationship with him. How is it any different now that his identity has been revealed? Either way, you were brought here for the same reason, relationship or not." He sighed and shook his head. "he's been through a lot, more than most of us will ever know. Don't give up just yet."

Braxton didn't leave the tent. he didn't want to leave Bel alone. His wounds needed tending to and yet he found himself sitting across from Bel on the ground. He wasn't particularly known for his kindness. He wasn't as stone-cold as Kaillas or as flippant as Cassian. He was blunt and honest and not many people liked like. It didn't stop him either way.

Ronan bristled as the prince got his name wrong. He decided he hated this little princeling. He was so far over his head, thinking he was better than everyone else. Well, news flash, the prince was just like the rest of them. "I am on a personal mission from the king, I have every authority to be here." He didn't but as long as he didn't get caught, what did it matter?

The man only grinned as the prince grabbed his arm and dug into the wound. He liked pain. He enjoyed it. It wasn't until ice began spreading on his arm that he cried out. Witch. The prince was a witch and deserved to die in hell. He was reaching back, trying to find his weapon, get a grasp on it. This man needed to die before he corrupted everyone else. The hand moved to his neck. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. He was struggling now, arms flailing and legs kicking out. Until finally, he collapsed, dead.

"I know why I'm here," Bel says sharply, his voice breaking near the end with a sharp cough. "I don't need to be reminded of my stupidity, thank you." He turns his head so it's his ear resting on his knees instead of his chin. He doesn't want to look at Braxton or Nico or any of the healers who are only there to serve the destruction of his family. "Just hurry up and ask me what you want to know. I'd rather my death come sooner than later." Answer them, serve his purpose, die alone and hurt. The plan didn't sound all too dreadful.

He attempts a sniffle but it instead turns to a full blown coughing attack. His defensive position unfurls as he hacks into his elbow, finally coming away to notice a red splotch seeping into the folds of his shirt. His hands shake as he stares at them, too detached to truly notice the severity of it all.

Miran slowly removes his hand with a little force, the ice connecting him and the witchunter cracking. He balls his fist softly and watches the ice melt away. Hidden crime scene. Miran stands with a clear of his throat, moving through the crowd that parts for him. His sisters look up from where they had been preoccupied with reading a map.

"Everything taken care of?" Val asks as she rolls the parchment.

Miran nods. "I think I know where Bel is." There's a sapphire bracelet on the floor, something only Bel would wear. Hasty horse tracks lead south, into the forest. "We'll go south for two days. We'll retrieve Bel and then head for Blakkast. I have a sneaking suspicion our couson would like to see all four of us."

Braxton's eyebrows drew in confusion at his words. Kill? They weren't going to kill Bel. They wouldn't dream of it. Their plan had always been to try and convince Bel to join them, long before there were ever romantic feelings involved. And if he chose not to join them, after everything had settled down and Nico was on the throne, they would have let him live somewhere nice, anywhere he wanted to. They would have paid for it and continually looked after him. They weren't monsters.

"Bel, we're not going to kill you. We never were. We still aren't. We are merciful and we don't kill people without a reason to. We want you to join us but we understand if you don't want to. But that doesn't mean we're going to kill you." He didn't understand how Bel could think such a thing. They had never once mentioned anything about killing him Where was this all coming from? He was about to speak again when he noticed the blood on his shirt. He looked up, and saw the blood on his mouth. "Bel!"

He lunged forward to grab him, worried the prince was going to collapse. He looked up. "Healer! I need a healer!" A woman came rushing over to them and took one look at Bel before placing her hands on him. The skin tingled where she touched and sent waves of magic into him, healing him. Braxton was watching with wide eyes. Nico was going to kill him for letting anything happen to Bel.

They aren't going to kill him? Please. Bel isn't going to fall for their lies again. He's only there to serve a purpose and once he does that, he's nothing of use to them. His entire relationship with Nico had been a play for power. The uneasy acquaintances he made with the other men were out of necessity. How do I know you aren't lying to me again? Bel wants to ask, but any thought is violently interrupted as he coughs.

Though the fog, he hears Braxton yell for a healer and then a woman–a mage–is there and she has her hands on him. "Don't touch me!" He shouts, scrambling backwards until his back hits the tent. The flap is open at the bottom and he does thr only thing he can think of–escape. As quick as he's ever moved in his life, Bel's out from under the flap and outside of the tent. There are woods in front of him, the settlement behind. And Bel runs, taking off deep into the forest and away from the danger.

(Awww poor Bel. Nico has a lot of work to do.)

Braxton let go in surprise and so did the woman. They had dealt with enough people who couldn't stand touch that it was a habit, to ket go. That was a mistake. Bel had fallen back and found the tent opening and had begun running. Braxton stared for a moment too long in surprise. Nico was going to kill him for this. The he was up and running. He shouldn't, he coukd already feel the light headedness kick in but he had surprised on much more damage to this. Still, a few kicks in the head would mess someone up.

As Bel came further into view, Braxton picked up the pace. He was almost there, almost- and then he lunged, tackling the prince to the forest floor. There was more than one reason he was tackling him. The forest could be dangerous, especially for a prince who didn't know how to protect himself very well. "Bel. Bel! Please. Let me help you. Let us help you. You need care. We just want to help you. I promise."

(alfdjdhj Bel is Not having a very good time)

Bel runs and runs and runs, though he knows he won't get far, he just has to get away. He's inevitably halted and tackled to the ground. With a cry, Bel tried to struggle his way out, but its no use. "No, you don't want to help me– You'll just lie to me again." He goes limp beneath Braxton, closing his eyes and trying not to look like a trembling mess.

"All I wanted was one person to trust for once in my life but I should've known–" He takes a shuddering breath, taking his hands up to rub at his eyes. "Nobody's that kind to me without a motive and I was a fool for thinking otherwise."

(Yeah I can see that haha)

Braxton had pinned Bel to the ground, carefully, so he wasn't hurting him. He was using his bodyweight mostly. "Bel please. We don't want to hurt you. We don't. I know you don't trust us but I swear on my mother that I won't hurt you." Other than Laurent, he was the only one of their small little friendship that still had family left. "Please, stop struggling I'll explain what I can."

Nicos trauma was his to explain. He wouldn't touch that. But he could touch on other things. Braxton had been there when Nico was taken. He had been taken too. However, he hadn't gotten the brunt of Ronan's wrath. That had all been Nico. There was at least some things he could explain. "I need you to calm down. I need you not to run. There are worst things in these woods than what we can do. That it true."

Bel goes quiet, managing to wrangle his arms free but only to press his hands to his face. He doesn't like this. He doesn't like being pinned, being trapped, being forced to stay here–He is a prisoner after all, and Bel should have been smart enough to remember that. "Please," Bel says quietly. "Just… get off of me. I won't run." There's no point in running. Even injured, Braxton is much faster and stronger than Bel. The prince would only be another problem they'll have to deal with.

"And you–" Bel pauses to ensure he doesn't choke. "You don't have to explain anything. I just want this to be over with." He wants to leave, to go back to the palace, to see his family–or even if they won't grant him that luxury, if Bel's dead, he won't have to think about this entire mess.

Braxton slowly got off of Bel and sat back on the ground. He raised a hand to his head, wincing. It was covered in blood as he lowered it. His head was killing him. If Bel hadn't of run he would have been healed by now. But he couldn't blame him for that. The prince was scared and betrayed. Braxton would be lying if he said he wouldn't have had a similar reaction. "What did Ronan say to you two? Can you remember?" Braxton hadn't been there to hear it but he could only imagine. That man loved to talk, more than anyone wanted to hear. And he hoped if Bel could remember, it would give some insight to what Braxton was going to say next.

"How did he taunt Nico? You know they've met before yes? And it certainly wasn't under very good terms. If you'll let me, I can tell you about it. I'll tell you what they did to me." If Braxton closed his eyes long enough, he could still remember everything. He remembered the water dripping down the wall, the poor excuse for a cot, the bucket he used for a toilet. The smell. The sounds. It was horrific.