Edgar Bones

Still nothing. Walden didn’t mind the silence, though. He knew how the Order members were stubborn when it came to this part. They refused to show any indication even when it was clear they were in pain. It didn’t bother him yet. For eventually he would get something out of the worthless man. He always did. Putting more pressure onto the handle of the knife, he dug it deeper into the skin as he traveled down his chest. Creating a vibrant slash, with blood spewing out of it and a faster rate than any of the other cuts to the man’s flesh. “Or don’t. I can do this till your life has vanquished entirely. Its not like i have need of you. There are others that will speak more willingly.” 

Even with the highest and strongest of willpowers no one could keep from crying out in pain. Edgar cried out as his arm burned, the pain travelling from nerve ending to nerve ending without reprieve. He listened to the death eaters words and all he felt was an overpowering need to protect everyone else. "Then you might as well go ahead and kill me, because I'll never tell you anything you want to know." There was no fierceness in his words, just conviction as he kept his voice from shaking.

Walden twisted the knife in his hand, over and over. Eyes trained on the form dangling in front of him, his curiosity rose. This one was more of a quiet capture than the others. Not that he mind, in fact, it meant more time for Walden to indulge in his entertainment for the night. Gripping the knife he held it up against the mans biceps, waiting to apply any pressure. Walden wanted to drag this one out. He hadn’t been able to find another victim in a long time and he had been growing anxious. With a new prey, he found a satisfied smirk already carressing his lips. “Speak,” he demanded, putting pressure on the knife. 

Edgar didn't even bother to look up, he owed this man nothing, not even his eye contact. He didn't recognize the voice but there seemed to be more DE's than they had previously thought. If Edgar survived that was valuable information for the Order. The bite of cold steel brought Edgar out of his thoughts, the metal against the muscle of his arm. Edgar kept from scoffing, but continued to stare at the floor, where his blood had pooled and dried many times over. Another order, and he would ignore it just as he had the others. The knife bit into his flesh and he winced but kept his mouth tightly shut.

Tick tock goes the clock. And what now shall we play?

Edgar's eyes fluttered as a voice sounded in the darkness. It was clear he'd been captured, he was beginning to remember the last few hours as he came to. His ribs burned, his wrists, and he knew they were nowhere near done. So far he'd stayed quiet, muffling his own cries and screams so as not to give the Death Eater any satisfaction. But things would escalate and he knew he would eventually cry out. Still, he was secure in the fact he would never give anything away, he would die before they got anything out of him. Thoughts of Charity flickered in his mind and his heart ached desperately, but she was safe at school. He tried to imagine her reaction when she got the news and hoped the Order was smart enough not to tell her, she didn't need to hear this right now. The idea of dying here pervaded his mind but he wouldn't give up so easily.