Every time Freddy moved the plastic ties securing his hands and feet dug deep into his aching limbs. The room was dark except for the three bright lights shining in his face. From the gloom behind the lights he heard a familiar voice.
“Such a shame it should come to this Frederick. You of all people.”
His voice trailed off. Freddy wanted to reply but the beatings had left him unable to do more than groan as he tried to clear his mouth of blood and broken teeth.
“Were you wanting to say something Frederick? A confession maybe? I’m afraid it’s a little too late for that.”
Freddy grunted. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d confessed. All to no avail.
“Selling our toyshop secrets to the opposition was such a silly thing to do. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? Belkins here has orders to inflict a little more pain. Then you are to be hung outside the workshop where the other Elves can see what happens to people who cross me. I’d like to stay and watch but I’m afraid I must go.”
As Santa left the darkened room he heard his Chief Elf, Frederick Simkins scream as Belkins went about his business.
This week’s prompt from Sunday Photo Fiction.