After the loss of Kochar, alcohol and cruelty became Sayid’s constant crutches. When he was sent out on mercenary work he gradually grew more sadistic with his targets. This was only further fueled by Diaco, who had decided that allowing Sayid to torture or execute those who defied him and his peers should become a regular addition to their feasts. Though Sayid was well aware that the “crimes” of those he tormented or killed frequently did not merit the punishment they were assigned. Some he suspected had done no wrong. At a certain point, he had stopped being told what his victims had done, and he didn’t ask. He just followed instructions on whether to kill or maim. Part of him had grown paranoid, worrying Diaco could sense the resentment he harbored toward him, and that the punishments Sayid was assigned to exact upon others were also meant as a warning to him. Even so, he thrived on the cruelty, clinging to what high and sense of control it gave him.
They carried on like that for a time until one evening. Sayid had dressed and come to the main building, but was given pause when he looked over those who would be the evening’s early entertainment. One among them was younger than the others, a teen around the age he had been when Diaco had brought him back to the compound.
“Is there a problem, my gem?” Diaco asked, arching a brow.
Sayid’s gaze snapped to the man, “No sir… how do you want them handled?”
“Kill them slow, make them suffer. You know we adore your creativity.” Diaco said with a satisfied smile.
“Yes, sir,” Sayid affirmed. He worked through the older man and woman first, but when he got to the terrified-looking teen Sayid found himself hesitating. Not killing the boy wasn’t an option, he knew that he would be killed if he refused. Instead, he made a decision to take a risk, and did the most merciful thing he could, making the teen’s death quick with a clean decapitation. The feast had continued on in the normal fashion, overindulging in food and alcohol and being used by Diaco and his friends. Sayid thought perhaps he was safe despite his defiance of Diaco’s order to make it slow.
When he woke the next morning it was not in his quarters and he knew instantly he had made a mistake, feeling a surge of fear. He was chained down spread eagled on his stomach, feeling silk bedding beneath his cheek. He’d barely had time to process that he was not in his room when he heard the whistle of something through the air and a moment later felt the sting of a flog across his back.
“I am so unbelievably disappointed,” Diaco said, his voice and dark eyes cold as he stared down at Sayid, swinging the whip a second time. “You’ve always been so good. So obedient. I thought you were smarter than this Sayid. You defied my orders. Directly disobeyed me in front of others.” Diaco sighed, punctuating each statement with another swing.
Sayid’s back was raw and welted up when Diaco had finished swinging. He didn’t speak, he couldn’t exactly disagree, he had disobeyed him. He knew it was a risk when he’d done it, but thought he had gotten away with it, now regretting his foolishness in thinking so. Sayid turned his head the other way so he could see Diaco standing beside the bed.
“I should kill you for what you’ve done,” Diaco said, setting the whip down and picking up a dagger.
“No! No, NO PLEASE! I’LL DO ANYTHING! I’M SORRY SIR!” Sayid panicked at his words.
“No, you’re not. But you’re going to be.” Diaco hissed, climbing astride his back.
“Diaco! DIACO PLEASE! DON’T KILL ME! I DON’T WANT TO DIE!” Sayid cried out desperately, eyes wide with terror, expecting the man to begin plunging the dagger into his back.
“You’re lucky you’re my favorite..” Diaco spat, putting a hand over Sayid’s mouth. “Shut up. Stop screaming. I’m not going to kill you. You bring me far too much money. I am however going to make sure you never forget what happens when you defy me.”
Sayid went silent when Diaco said he wasn’t going to kill him, his heart still hammering hard in his chest from the fear, still terrified Diaco might change his mind.
Diaco took the hand away from his mouth when he was sure Sayid was done screaming. The dagger wasn’t plunged but instead, Diaco began to draw the blade across his back in crisscross patterns. The cuts were shallow but numerous. Sayid pressed his lips tight together, though the occasional grunt or hiss of pain managed to slip through. His back was a mess of red, his blood staining the silk beneath him.
When he finished Diaco looked at his handiwork in thought, giving a nod. “Hold this.” He said, pushing the blade through the back of one of Sayid’s palms. He climbed off Sayid’s back, moving to a bowl of fruit and plucking a lemon from it. He came back, pulling the dagger from Sayid’s hand, and sliced the lemon in half. He slid the blade into Sayid’s other hand and then took both halves of the lemon, placing the cut sides against his back and running them up and down his wounds, squeezing out the juice as he did so. Sayid fought hard not to scream as the acid from the fruit burned his open wounds, feeling lightheaded from the pain.
“Why did you do it?” Diaco asked, continuing to rub the lemons into his back.
“I… he was just a boy… I thought.. what could he possibly have done to deserve such torture? I thought maybe you would accept a quick death just for that one…” Sayid groaned in answer.
Diaco sighed, throwing the squeezed lemons aside. “It seems you still have much to learn, my gem.” He said, leaning down and licking upward along one of the lines he’d cut in his back. “Your mistake is in thinking he had to have done anything. If I decide someone dies, they die. Did you forget what I taught you? There are those with power and those who are used by those with power. Nothing else matters. This world doesn’t care for your thoughts or your feelings. You are a possession. An object. And you belong to me. If I say you kill slow, you kill slow. If I say you spread your legs for anyone I want, you spread them.” Diaco said, leaning up so he could make eye contact with Sayid.
“I understand, sir,” Sayid whispered.
“Not yet you don’t, but you will, my lucky gem,” Diaco said, “When I’m done punishing you, you will never disobey me again.”
Diaco got up off him again and went to get something else, coming back with two vials, one he brought to Sayid’s lips. “Swallow. All of it.” Sayid was afraid it was poison but was more frightened of what would happen if it wasn’t and he refused, swallowing down the bitter-tasting liquid that was poured in his mouth. The musky earthy flavor lingered upon his tongue. Diaco set the empty vial on the bed and then drank the other as he undid his pants and moved between Sayid’s spread legs. As Diaco had his way with him Sayid noticed the world began to look strange. The hallucinogen that Diaco had given him began to take effect. The chains that held him became serpents, coiling and squeezing as they sank their fangs into his wrists and ankles. Diaco became something inhuman, the smile in his periphery stretching impossibly wide. The man was burrowing into his skin, the hands that touched him stretching into spidery growths that squirmed into his flesh. Terror filled Sayid as the bad trip made time stretch into eternity, leaving him wondering if it would ever end. Horrified at the thought that this was his new reality, or maybe it always had been. At some point, he passed out.
When Sayid woke he was no longer in Diaco’s bed. A heavy metal collar had been placed around his neck, attached to a chain that was fixed to the exterior wall of one of the buildings, his hands cuffed behind his back. He looked around him, finding Diaco standing over him. Seeing he was awake, Diaco looked to the others in his employ who he’d ordered to assemble themselves.
“Sayid is being punished. He is to stay chained here for the week, with no food. Only water. You may use him as you please, just don’t kill or injure him in any way that would render him useless to me. Understood?” Diaco addressed the others who murmured their assent. Sayid lay silent against the dirt, watching Diaco as he walked off. Most of the others began to wander away, though a few that lingered were quick to act on Diaco’s permission and prey on the vulnerable warrior.
When his week of punishment was up Sayid was taken to the infirmary for a while to be cleaned up and recover from his injuries. Eating ravenously when he was fed. When the worst of his sunburns and cuts had begun to close he had been sent fresh silk garments and was sent to report to Diaco’s quarters. When he entered the room Diaco was sitting on a cushion with a cup of wine in hand waiting for him, beckoning him over to the cushion beside him which Sayid went to obediently.
“I’ve missed you, my lucky gem.” Diaco cooed, petting Sayid’s hair, “It was so hard having to punish you. I’m sorry you forced my hand like that, you left me no choice.”
“It was my fault. I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” Sayid said quietly, bowing his head
“I know you are. I’m certain you’ve learned your lesson. All is forgiven. We can go back to things being as they should be. Your next fight is in a week.” Diaco smiled, reaching to tilt Sayid’s chin up as he leaned in to kiss him.