“Engraving showing diverse tortures: the brazen bull, strapado, waterboarding, the rack; Torture chamber of the Spiš Castle”
Brazen Bull or the Sicilian Bull is a execution device designed in ancient Greece.Perillos of Athens, a brass-founder, proposed to Phalaris, the tyrant of Akragas, Sicily, the invention of a new means for executing criminals. Accordingly, he cast a bull, made entirely of brass, hollow, with a door in the side. The condemned were shut in the bull and a fire was set under it, heating the metal until it became yellow hot and causing the person inside to roast to death. The bull was designed in such a way that its smoke rose in spicy clouds of incense. The head of the ox was designed with a complex system of tubes and stops so that the prisoner’s screams were converted into sounds like the bellowing of an infuriated bull. It is also said that when the bull was reopened, the scorched bones of the remains shone like jewels and were made into bracelets.
The garrote very common once, is no longer sanctioned by law in any country though training in its use is still carried out in the French Foreign Legion. The garrote is a device that strangles a person to death. It can also be used to break a person’s neck. The device was used in Spain until it was outlawed in 1978 with the abolition of the death penalty. It normally consisted of a seat in which the prisoner was restrained while the executioner tightened a metal band around his neck until he died. Some versions of the garrote incorporated a metal bolt which pressed in to the spinal chord, breaking the neck. The victim may pass into a state of severe and painful convulsions and then pass into death. This spiked version is known as the Catalan garrote. The last execution by garrote was José Luis Cerveto in October 1977. Andorra was the last country in the world to outlaw its use, doing so in 1990. However garroting is still common in India according Indian author and forensic expert Parikh.
This is a form of torture used first by Persians in 401BC.
The word scaphism comes from the Greek word skaphe, meaning scooped or hollowed.
The naked person was firmly fastened within a back-to-back pair of narrow rowing boats (or a hollowed-out tree trunk), with the head, hands, and feet protruding. The condemned was forced to ingest milk and honey to the point of developing severe diarrhea, and more honey would be rubbed on his body in order to attract insects to the exposed appendages.He or she would then be left to float on a stagnant pond or be exposed to the sun. The defenseless individual’s feces accumulated within the container, attracting more insects, which would eat and breed within his or her exposed and increasingly gangrenous flesh. The feeding would be repeated each day in some cases to prolong the torture, so that dehydration or starvation did not provide him or her with the release of death. Death, when it eventually occurred, was probably due to a combination of dehydration, starvation and septic shock. Delirium would typically set in after a few days. Death by scaphism was painful, humiliating, and protracted.
Oh, a sneak peak just for you, persistent one. Ah yes, I know. A fire brewing on the side, yes. Some rods turning bright red. Ah, but wait, not yet to use them, no… no too early. First the coals. Yes, they already seem quite hot. Wait, this coal has fire on it, allow one to extinguish it before shoving said coal down one’s throat. No, no… you shall not swallow the hot coal. Worry not, I have skill in sewing. I will have your throat open and shut before you know it, coals shoved inside like one’s throat is a Christmas stocking, how festive for the holidays. Yes? Yes, I think it so.
“All right,” Dalie said. He cracked his knuckles slowly as he thought for a moment. Then he proceeded to crack other finger joints, still deciding. He made a mental inventory check, what all did he carry on him at the time. This being was going willingly, he didn’t have to be too terribly violent though being in the realm he had been for the time he had been there he wanted to see blood, lots of it. Something inside him snapped. He would not stop even if some small part of him told himself to. He would not stop until the blood was everywhere.
“Yes, all right,” he said again, his voice icy cold. He grabbed the greyfaced being’s arm and broke it with his bare hands. He ripped the greyfaced being’s arm off at the broken bone and as the being fidgetted, unwillingly letting out a cry of agony, Dalie tore muscle off the severed arm and hand, exposing the splintered bone. This would be his weapon from hereon out, Dalie decided. He shoved the bloodied splintered bone into the greyfaced being’s face, targeting the soft flesh of the greyfaced being’s cheek for their cries he found irritating. Then he told them to shut up, though he knew they would not. He grabbed hold of the greyfaced being’s other arm and stabbed it with the bone tool, then drug the bone down, tearing flesh and muscle apart as he did so. The greyfaced being’s blood was spewing everywhere. Dalie forcefully slapped them when they yelled out in pain again. “I said silence!”
He shoved the bone deep into the being’s gut now, then withdrew it. He put the bone and limp severed hand into his pocket then dug both his hands into the wound he just made in the being’s gut. With his bare hands, he tore open the being’s stomach. They fell to their knees, the pain of the assault making them dizzy, the blood-loss from previous impalement making it hard to maintain consciousness. Dalie slowly eased himself to his own knees simply to persist attacking the greyfaced being’s abdomen. He proceeded to rip organs out, one by one and tossing them to his side. This was something he had done to several beings before.
He stuck one of his hands deep into the being’s torso, all the way to his elbow, as he reached for the being’s heart. It was still beating as the being was still alive though barely so. He ripped that out too. The being sputtered for a few seconds. Dalie watched as their body struggled to cling to life, failing miserably. The being went limp in Dalie’s grasp, death finally taking them. Dalie let their body drop to the floor and stood back on his feet. He watched as a couple pools of blood began to form around the being where he tore them up. He pulled the severed arm and hand from his pocket and tossed it on top of the corpse and left without a word spoken.
So I just wrote a ton of details about some of the psychological tortures Liefully went through for the recent thread AsgardianOutcast has started.
I shall just… casually leave all the details I have written in the past here under the cut for you to digest:
Question: What did he do to you before that would warrant such a response?
(July 16th, 2012) Written in Liefully’s voice:
I know many do not know or have missed what has happened to me so I decided to answer this with details. I have several links provided in this post, so if you care to read more details and find the threads, you should click those links.
About three or four weeks ago, I was abducted by the Chituari army at the command of Thanos. He had found me on Midgard. My brother, Thor, enlisted the aid of Heimdal to find the Chituari ship after search for me for two Midgardian days. He found me just in time to witness me die in his arms. My spirit went to Niflheim. My twin, AsgardianOutcast, had to trade the soul of Odin to bring me back to life but I have never been the same since this event.
I shall share with you a post I made several weeks ago describing what torture was done to me:
Loki’s face grew stone hard as he spoke, “For starters, they stripped me of my power and magic. They only left my ability to heal quickly. They have a fair knowledge of magic too, twin. I do not know how their knowledge is nearly matched with my own but apparently it is. Here I thought they were simply brutes but no, they are intelligent as well.” He inhaled, “After stripping me of my defense, what they did to me next was physical. They toyed with the fact that I was a frost giant. They burned me in more ways than one. A dry burn, despite being a frost giant, dry ice still burns my skin. They shoved me in a tank filled with hot coals and fire. Then a watery burn, the water scolding hot. Then they allowed me time to heal. They lashed me, they stuck things in me. My body must have been torn to shreds several time long before Thor came.”
He looked down at his hands, the burn marks he sustained from the Chituari visible in his spiritual form. He said solemnly, “They tortured me psychologically. I was tortured in my mind, stuck in an illusion. They said we will try this method for one hour. I found myself in some manner of training exercise though it was rigged for death to occur. The air smelled of death. There was one giant being and it was so frightening I knew I had to get away. It came for me. It threw things at me, it tried to slow me down. I was trying desperately to get away from the torture and failing several times, over and over and over. It was long and arduous. All one can feel physically in real life I felt in my illusion they had me trapped in. And they read my thoughts, they knew my longing and desires and used those against me. I saw them torture those I care about in front of me and I was unable to do anything to help them. I tried to but everything I did always made matters worse. And doing nothing made matters worse. Though I knew it wasn’t real even thought of it was too much to bear. And after a very long time of things of these natures, one spoke, ‘One minute completed, 59 left to go.’ It felt like years for me, being tortured this way. And no sweet death to escape into. If I ‘died’ I only started everything over again. When the ‘hour’ was up, they proceeded to torture me physically again.” He paused, the physical torture the second time was worse. His mind had been broken from what he experienced in an hour’s time and the physical pains were doubly crippling. He remembered being delusional and not certain what was real or not.
He closed his eyes for a few seconds then spoke, “I… remember the blood. It was everywhere. And it was all my blood. There was enough for me to bathe in. I just… don’t remember what they did to me for such blood to expel. They broke many of my bones, though.” He shifted in his seated position to show his twin his gnarled up broken leg that he had to walk on in this realm.
I have had occasional episodes where my mind flashes back to the tortures I have endured. My twin tells me this is one symptom of something called post traumatic stress disorder. Here are a couple such memories:
“Loki. We are not done with you yet. The dry ice, the coal. Those were just the beginning. We shall permit some momentary relief however. We cannot very well persist this with your skin as charred as it is. All those burns. You long for the relief of something cool, do you not? You are familiar with ice. It is just one form of water, is it not? And water will cool your burns. Allow us to familiarize you with another form of water, Loki. We suspect you will like this very much.”
A Chituari soldier whose face Loki couldn’t make out stepped from the group with a pail of water. Loki’s heart raced, he sensed it could not be good. He started to sputter, “No… no…” unable to think of anything else to say. He was too tired and weak, his voice hurt from previous screams. His face was met with boiling hot water, it seared his flesh, stung his already crying nerves.
And another the very same day:
“What if you lose control of your ability? Your touch freezing any who come near? Someone you care about?” Loki was back in his psychological arena. The sky was an eerie yellow as the sun was falling in the west. It felt like he’d been trialed for weeks but the Chituari Army smugly told him it had only been 12 minutes and he still had 48 left to go. He was tired from running, from resisting, from everything, so he was in a defeated position at this time. Loki felt a jab against his side, something metallic poking into him but he didn’t know what. It was freezing cold, however, and his hands shook as he saw his skin turn blue against his will. Thor, who was a captive there to be used as a torture device against Loki, screamed “Loki, no!” as though he could not see the Chituari army. An armored hand of a Chituari soldier grabbed Loki’s wrist and directed his arm toward Thor. Despite Loki’s resistance, the soldier forced it to touch the skin of the shackled Thor. Both Loki and Thor cried out in panic, Thor as he was frostbitten, Loki as he was forced to hurt Thor this way.
Would you not say such a response is not justly warranted?
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A snippet where Liefully hears the voices speaking to him while he talks to Deceitful:
(August 12, 2012)
“Loki, this is your fault. They suffer because of you. Because of what you are. Because of what you do. This is your fault, Loki. They will always suffer because of you and you alone. Hear them scream now. This is your fault, Loki. You think you help but you only hinder. Your touch makes them cringe and cry. You only hurt. You only cause pain. This is your fault, Loki. They would not be here if not for you. If you did not beguile yourself to think a monster could love. You are a monster and you do monstrous things. You always did. And you always shall. You cannot save them, Loki. Oh no, you can only hurt them. This is proof of that. This is all your fault. They suffer because of you. Look! Loki! Look at their faces! Those are not tears in their eyes, that is their blood and that is because of you. You are killing them, Loki. Every breath, every word, every step you take is taking from their lives just a little more. Loki, you are their death. You are the last thing they shall see before they die and what a frightful sight you are.”
Oh gods… What is wrong with me?
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And then a snippet of something written OOC about him:
http://liefullymun.tumblr.com/post/29182939508/natasharomanoffa-reblogged-your-post-dont-say
He has this phobia about hurting his loved ones because he was psychologically tortured by Thanos (this is roleplay, not canon to the movies or anything). When he got abducted, one of the many tortured done to him in only the two days he was captive by the Chituari and Thanos involved a basically mental atom bomb that has permanently damaged his comprehension. He was trapped in an illusion for an hour’s time. Though the time-frame in the illusion seemed to span years because the events detailed were run through so fast. In the illusion, he was forced to hurt his loved ones, or he was put in trials where his actions judged how his loved ones would get hurt. No matter what he did, his loved ones always got hurt in the end. The message was beat into his brain that he hurts everyone he cares about.
And that was an illusion, it wasn’t real. But it felt real. And sometimes he thinks he’s living some element of that illusion, but it’s always brief. But when he actually hurts someone he cares about, even just a a little, he panics. It scares him to think he’s hurting someone he cares about. So he wants to run away. He wants others to stop caring about him to make it easier for him to isolate himself. AsgardianOutcast’s been the diligent force that has kept Liefully from completely snapping and turning vicious in a desperate attempt to destroy all his bonds. He tried it once, he will probably try it again. But AsgardianOutcast’s always there to knock sense back into his brain and make him stop.
His thoughts are products of an irrational fear. That’s why I call it a phobia.
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In Liefully’s Headcanons page:
– Liefully’s second biggest phobia is hurting those he cares about. He always had a mild concern or fear of causing harm to those who matter to him, but it was developed into a mega-phobia by tortures done to him by Thanos. He was trapped in an hour-long illusion where the time-span inside the illusion was far longer than an hour, making it feel like the tortures were done for years. Loki was forced to harm everyone he cared about, even those he mildly cared about, but those he cared about the most were victims of his harm the most. (His powers were used against his control, so he has a fear of losing control of his abilities because of this torture as well.) Every action he made was judged against him and his loved ones suffered for it. It didn’t matter if he chose not to act or what action he chose to make, he could never protect or save his loved ones from harm and had to witness them getting hurt. The tortures beat it into his mind that his loved ones suffered because of him and him alone, no one else. It was his fault they were suffering, his fault they got hurt. This has severely damaged him.
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And then of course, all the gruesome details in the recent thread itself, which you can visit here: http://liefullyloki.tumblr.com/post/30573122251/change
One of those things is air itself. Fill a syringe with air, ingect into the neck, the victim slowly chokes to death.
Something I am full aware of. Death is fun to cause, though I like to cause suffering more than death.
These are rather cruel.
Good.
These are…disturbing.
liefullyloki 