"You ceased to be useful," the white coated figure pointed out.
Then, without further preamble, Jack could hear a lever being thrown and a crash and would find himself hurtling downwards towards the pool of water.
A splash and he was submerged up to mid-torso, so he could not curl out of the blackness. It was just as dark within the water as the water had looked from without, making it impossible to see even if he did open his eyes.
Jack screams as the lever as pulled, but it's quickly cut off as he disappears under the water. Soundlessly, he keeps screaming, his mouth filling with water, which doesn't help.
Just that split second before the act of drowning may have released Jack from this terror, he was yanked back up and left to dangle, dripping.
Only long enough to grab a few breaths, to pick up a bit of hope and then the machine shuddered once again and he was dropped into the murky water. This would continue for as long as Jack either remained conscious or continued to flop and flail about.
The intention wasn't to actually drown him (though it probably felt that way at times) but to see just how long, he'd continue to struggle against the inevitable evidence of his own failure.
Jack catches enough air to scream, the first time.
He gives a tired squeak the second.
By the third dunk, he doesn't have the air to do more than wheeze pathetically. He's almost begging to pass out, to not have to feel the sensation of drowning over and over.
But it's not even that that really gets him - it's the laughing. He's hallucinating, but doesn't know it. All he knows is that hundreds of voices are laughing at him in unison, screaming with mirth and yelling out encouragements to the thing in the white coat.
It's that, the relentless mockery, that finally makes him give up struggling on the fourth dunk. They're all right. He must look ridiculous and pathetic. He deserves to be laughed at.
He sinks in for a fifth dunk, but he's not fighting it anymore, just panting harshly as he's dragged up, hands dangling down. Snot is falling down his upturned face from the repeated dunks. Good, it just completes the picture.
no subject
Then, without further preamble, Jack could hear a lever being thrown and a crash and would find himself hurtling downwards towards the pool of water.
A splash and he was submerged up to mid-torso, so he could not curl out of the blackness. It was just as dark within the water as the water had looked from without, making it impossible to see even if he did open his eyes.
no subject
He flops about like a fish on a hook.
no subject
Only long enough to grab a few breaths, to pick up a bit of hope and then the machine shuddered once again and he was dropped into the murky water. This would continue for as long as Jack either remained conscious or continued to flop and flail about.
The intention wasn't to actually drown him (though it probably felt that way at times) but to see just how long, he'd continue to struggle against the inevitable evidence of his own failure.
no subject
He gives a tired squeak the second.
By the third dunk, he doesn't have the air to do more than wheeze pathetically. He's almost begging to pass out, to not have to feel the sensation of drowning over and over.
But it's not even that that really gets him - it's the laughing. He's hallucinating, but doesn't know it. All he knows is that hundreds of voices are laughing at him in unison, screaming with mirth and yelling out encouragements to the thing in the white coat.
It's that, the relentless mockery, that finally makes him give up struggling on the fourth dunk. They're all right. He must look ridiculous and pathetic. He deserves to be laughed at.
He sinks in for a fifth dunk, but he's not fighting it anymore, just panting harshly as he's dragged up, hands dangling down. Snot is falling down his upturned face from the repeated dunks. Good, it just completes the picture.
He's done. He's given up.