Death-less

In a small room with a group of angry people circling a man tied to a chair,

"God damn it! I told you we should have shut that old lady up! Now look, the robbery is ruined and all we got is this wackjob!" One of the people in the group yelled in frustration and anger, his eyes bulging as he stared imaginary holes into the tied-down man.

"Maybe if you didn't drop your wallet, we wouldn't have needed to shut her up, and this psycho wouldn't have caught wind!" Another person yelled back as he kicked the wall for nothing else to help calm his temper.

There were a few seconds of silence before the group continued blaming each other, and the supposed leader was getting angrier and angrier by the second.

Finally, he snapped.

"Enough! Enough! Shut up and stop blaming each other!" He paused and took a deep breath before continuing. "We have the person who ruined the robbery, why go at each other's throat when we can instead cut his?"

He looked at the man who had a bag over his head in the chair, before looking at the others in the cramped room.

"You ain't talkin' 'bout torture, are you?" A man with an accent questioned with a look of uncertainty, the fear of prison dissuading him.

"That's exa-" The leader couldn't finish as the man who kicked the wall rushed to the bagged man and punched him in the stomach.

The bagged man grunted and coughed as blood leaked through the bag over his head, before wheezing breath into his aching lungs. Soon, every person joined to torture the man, and it wasn't long before tools were involved.

They slashed and stabbed the man all over his naked body, save for his underwear. They broke his fingers and toes, tore off his nails and teeth, cut off his nose and ears, gouged out his eyes, and then, when they were all done, left him alone to die in agony.

He died in complete darkness and silence, all senses but touch mercilessly stolen from him.

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"You poor child..."

In an endless blank space of whiteness, a towering middle-aged man looked at the disfigured and bloodied body, laying on an invisible floor. The man with a great white beard and silky flowing hair leaned down to the body and whispered.

"What do you wish, in return for your suffering?"

He said it softly, but the blood crested eyes of the body snapped open, showing the hollow sockets with tore off nerves and brain tissue.

"Kill."

The towering man creased his forehead before sighing, "If that is what you wish, then I suppose I will record it as retribution for your murderers. At least try not to show anyone your new form, if you want to live long enough for your next life."

The disfigured body cracked his lips open, revealing a glimpse of the torn gums with empty holes holding pockets of blood and torn flesh, before fading into a red mist and disappearing.

The middle-aged man stood up before sighing again,

"Free will is such a dangerously disappointing thing to have been created..."

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In a small room with white walls and soft caramel carpet, a massive form lay under a blanket on a plain bed, sitting in the corner of the room.

An alarm clock sounded into action, blaring into the room with its sounds. The form growled, or maybe groaned, but the un-human-like sound also seemed to startle the one under the blanket as well.

The plain white sheets were flung off the bed and onto the carpet, and the massive lump revealed its identity.

An Orc.

Orcs are humanoid creatures that are famed for both their ferocity and their tenacity, only falling to bleeding wounds when a fight is finished, and only finishing a fight when one side is dead.

Of course, there are not any Orcs on earth, as the earth is dominated by only one humanoid race.

This Orc, in particular, is exactly seven feet tall, with dark green skin and excessively prevalent muscles, tight to the skin and rock solid. The Orc had long black hair going to the middle of his back, thick yet sharp eyebrows, and eyes seeming to contain the blood of his victims.

His eyes were both large yet wary, with a strong nose and bottom lips pushed forward by two white tusks, the points unnervingly sharp. He had a strong jaw and no facial hair, nor tattoos, nor scars. His hands were large yet slim, with pointed fingernails and dense knuckles.

Oh, and the Orc is naked.

'It seems the bearded deity wasn't talking nonsense when they warned me to hide my appearance. I was assuming it would be my tortured human body, but that would make it just slightly difficult to perceive my surroundings.'

He raised his hand and looked at it curiously for a while, before noticing the draft on his lower body.

'I doubt my clothes would be able to cover... this.'

He looked at his body some more in wonder, before sniffing the air. He lifted his nose before sniffing again. He looked to the door leading out of his hotel room and squinted.

'It seems I have a visitor I must deal with... Now, let's see what clothes I have. Don't want to scare off my guest.'