A Fate Worse Than Death

Pain.
Hunger.
Fear.

What did they all mean anymore?

Jacob sat at his chair, if you could call it that. It was a pile of splintering wood put together to form something close to furniture. The only furniture in an otherwise abandoned room. Concrete walls and floors, a hanging light bulb; Jacob was the basement's only occupant, but he hadn't always been. There were telltale signs from the scratch marks on the armrests of his chair, the claw marks on the stone walls, splotches of blood that never seemed to get cleaned up.
What had happened to those people before? They went through the same fate he was going through right now. Tortured to death and beyond by a monster even Hell couldn't lock up.
Ropes bound Jacob to his chair, but there was no point. He hadn't eaten or drank in days, maybe weeks. It was showing on his body. He was frail, his bones were visible beneath the thin sheet of skin. He was nothing but a wheezing skeleton. He couldn't move, could barely keep his head up. His immortality had kept him alive, but he was starving, and the hunger hurt more than death.
The door swung open. It slammed against the wall, though it sounded as though a gong had been smacked right next to the immortal. Jacob winced, squinting to see through the light from the doorway. Standing in that light was the monster that preyed on innocent lives, torturing them for mere pleasure and watching them struggle to survive just so he could do it again.
A beast from the foulest nightmares, a monster built off pain and suffering.
"You look like you've seen better days!" Cameron said with a bright laugh.
The young man closed the door behind him and descended the wooden steps, humming a tune he'd heard on the radio. Jacob didn't take his eyes off him. It was so... bewildering. Cameron looked so kind, he was always helping people and laughing brilliantly. How could someone like that smile so easily, so carelessly, while brutally slaughtering someone?
The prisoner paused in the midst of his thoughts as something interrupted. It was... a smell. A delicate, delicious smell. His stomach rumbled viciously, and he tried to lick off all the drool from his lips.
"Ohh, caught the smell, did ya?" Cameron beamed. He lowered the arm he had lifted, showing a plate of what appeared to be pork chops with mashed potatoes and peas. "I figured I'd cook you up something nice since it's been, oh, a month since you've last had anything." Before Jacob could lean any closer, Cameron pulled away and walked to the end of the room. He set the food down on the floor before happily making his way back to the chair.
Jacob, however, had completely forgotten about the monster in the room. All he could do was stare at that food. That delicious, warm food that smelled like heaven. For a month his senses had been dulled by the dark basement, with the only scent being from himself. But this, even if it was cooked by that devil, even if it was poisoned, it felt like a glimmer of hope for him.
Feeling something loosen around him, he looked down to find the ropes no longer restraining him. He warily looked up at Cameron, who replied with a reassuring smile.
"Well? Go on! I want to see how good my cooking is!"
Something told the immortal not to do it, but it was a puny voice compared to the desperate pleas for food. Tightly gripping the splintered arm rests, Jacob pushed himself off the seat. His legs, degraded to nothing but muscle-less bones, could not support him, and he fell with a heavy thud.
But he didn't give up.
Hunger controlling his mind, he clawed at the ground and dragged himself closer and closer to his prize. Look how it waited for him. A plate of colors against such a gray background. A chance at happiness that he hadn't had in a long time.
Jacob reached his plate, both wheezing and breathlessly laughing. It was finally his. He didn't care if he didn't have silverware, he'd inhale it if he could.
He grabbed one of the thin slices of meat, taking a large bite out of it. It melted in his mouth, so flavorful and warm. He wanted to cry.
Cameron sat down in the wooden chair as he watched the pathetic scene. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and his chin resting on the palm of his hand, his expression sympathetic, yet something glinting in his eyes. Part of him had wanted to leave the boy tied up and see if he could break free from the ropes to get food, or if he'd go crazy just staring at it being so tantalizingly close. Well. There was always next time. Right now he had more promising plans.
"Better slow down or you'll get sick!" he laughed. He didn't think Jacob heard him, the way that boy scooped up some mashed potatoes and shoveled it into his mouth. Cameron grinned. "Man, look at you. So happy to get food. So hopeful. Kind of reminds me of when I first brought you here, remember? I brought your friend here too! Remember that?"
Jacob paused at the mention of his friend.
"You ever think about that? About what happened to your friend?"
Cameron's grin widened.
"How'd you like dinner? Took about a month to cook."
Jacob stared at his food for what seemed like ages. It felt like the thin candle of hope he had been given had instantly been blown out. The warmth, the texture, the taste. No, no it couldn't have been. Th-This couldn't have been the reason he'd been starved and suddenly given a delicious plate. God, listen to him. Delicious? Wh-When this could be...?
He suddenly felt sick. What little food was in his body immediately wanted out. He vomited everything he'd been offered, even stomach acid came out. His mind raced, he felt like he couldn't breathe. Everything was spinning.
Cameron merely rolled his eyes. He climbed out of the chair and lazily made his way to the immortal and his putrid mess. Hands in his pocket, he lifted one leg and slammed the foot down on the boy's head, pressing his face against the vomit.
"Come on, I slave over a hot stove for you just for you to throw it up?!" He lifted his leg enough for Jacob to gasp for breath before stomping him back down, grinding his shoe against the boy's skull.
"No-hoh, buddy. No way. I'm not going to be disreSPECTED-" He stomped on him again. "-in my own home, got it?!" After a couple more stomps he grabbed a bloody fistful of the boy's hair and forced his head up. Cameron leaned down, his wide smile almost as visible as his venomous stare. "You're going to lick it all up, you hear me?"
The boy laid in the puddle of his vomit, in the puddle of his friend's remains, crying and bleeding. His body was beyond death, beyond even what lied ahead of that.

Yet he didn't die. His immortality wouldn't allow it.

And nor would the devil grinning down at him.