Draco flinched at the cracking sound of a whip, anticipating the blow on his back before it came, only to scream when not just cord but jagged metal dug into the already abused flesh, ripping up skin and tearing muscle and Draco could feel more blood trickling down his sides, and he wondered dimly how long it would take before he passed out from the blood loss. Probably too much to hope that it would be soon. His gaze fell on his watch. Three hours already.
Another scream rent the clammy dungeon air as something (who knew what) was pured over the raw wounds on his back, something that burned and stung and Merlinsavemehelpsomeonepleasestopmakeits
"That's right, traitor. Scream. Your little hero isn't going to save you now," Lucius sneered. A hard blow from the cane caught Draco off gaurd and hit him upside the head, splitting his lip and blackening his eye further, and he looked through the haze of red in his vision and saw his ring and then Daphne's pale, pretty face, and he wanted to kill something.