Warning: This story contains the cruel and senseless abuse of a cute character. If this is not your thing, stop reading now. You have been warned!

Disclaimer: I do not own Ori and the Blind Forest. Ori and the Blind Forest is property of Moon Studios, Microsoft Studios, and Nordic Games.

Ori and the Block of Punishment

Loud sobs could be heard echoing through the dungeon. An anthro bat strolled its halls, carrying a bawling spirit in tow. Ori had made a grave mistake. After enduring countless tortures and being forced to watch the bat brutally execute another victim, the horrified spirit had taken his chances at trying to escape this unholy place. But it had turned out to be a fool's errand. He pushed through so much pain and terror, only to find that there was no physical exit to the hell. And now he had been captured by the very bat he was trying to run from. Ori couldn't imagine anything more horrible than what he had already endured, but the bat was fiendishly clever and no doubt had some new form of agony in store for him.

The bat walked on in unnerving silence, navigating the labyrinthine complex of corridors with ease, until he finally stopped at a rusty metal door. Ori shivered, dreading whatever lied on the other side. Just like every other door in this place, it creaked and squealed as it was swung open, like the hinges were screaming from their own torture and neglect. A blast of frigid air washed over the two, the chamber within even colder than the rest of the dungeon. The bat stepped into the room and simply dropped the spirit onto the cold hard floor, not even bothering to restrain him. There was no need. In the condition Ori was in, the poor spirit could hardly move, let alone make a run for it. He could only lie there and watch as the bat made his way towards a table in the corner.

"On one of my recent excursions, I witnessed a rather intriguing form of torture. I've been looking for an opportunity to try it out, and it seems you will receive the honor of being my first guinea pig." the bat spoke as if it was a completely normal conversation and he wasn't about to commit an unspeakable act of cruelty.

Ori saw him handling something on the table. It looked like a piece of rope, but there was something unusual about it. Glints of light flickered along its length, like there was something reflective along its surface. It wasn't until the bat finished his preparations and began approaching the spirit that Ori could see the full extent of the horror that awaited him. Dozens upon dozens of razor sharp blades were woven into the length of the rope, protruding outward like teeth ready to dig into a fresh meal. It was no mystery what the bat planned to do with it, and the renewed terror pushed Ori to attempt to back away. But in his weakened state, the bat had no issue overtaking him and even seemed to enjoy the frightened spirit's desperate attempt to flee.

In an instant the bat was upon him, manhandling the helpless spirit into the positions he needed to apply the wicked instrument. Ori struggled out of instinct, but was still too weak to put up any real fight. He cried out as the rope was wrapped around his thigh, the wicked blades digging painfully into his flesh. Soon another loop was pulled diagonally across his chest and around his back, his arms pinned under the rope behind him. With just those first two loops, Ori's movements were already severely limited, leaving only his legs free to thrash about. Another loop was wrapped around his chest crosswise the previous one, and finally one around his neck, creating a serrated noose for the poor spirit. Despite his panic, Ori's struggles started to die down as any movements were met with dozens of pain spikes from the blades biting into him. Even just the rise and fall of his chest from breathing was enough to evoke sharp stings all along his abdomen.

In the end, Ori wound up bound and on his stomach, further pressing the blades into his tender belly and eliciting a sharp cry of pain from the poor spirit. He could feel the rope tugging a little on his neck as the bat gathered the rest of its length. He fully expected the bat to just yank him up and watch him squirm, but to his surprise he found himself being gently lifted by some dark force, keeping the chafing of the ropes to a minimum. Though it was unexpected, Ori knew that the momentary kindness was only to keep him in as good of shape as possible until the true torture could begin. But despite the gentle touch, fresh blood still seeped from his wounds, oozing down his fur and dripping onto the floor below where it left a splattered trail of crimson in his wake.

He was brought to another corner of the chamber, where two things of note were present. One was a wooden beam protruding from high up the wall, and the other a rather sizable block of ice sitting on the floor. The bat threw his end of the rope up and over the beam, making the terrified spirit feel that he was now in the grip of a proper gallows. Ori was floated over and positioned so that his feet hovered just above the chunk of ice. Even without direct contact, his sensitive paws could already feel the chill radiating from the frozen block. His feet would have started squirming if it wasn't for the dark aura holding him in place. But this discomfort was only the tip of the iceberg.

Suddenly the dark aura keeping Ori aloft dissipated and the spirit was once again a slave to forces of gravity. He let out a yelp of shock as his soles set down onto the ice block, the direct contact multiplying the freezing sensation tenfold. He instinctively lifted one foot to escape the biting chill, but the sudden shift in weight caused the bladed ropes to cut into his flesh even more, eliciting another cry of distress from the poor spirit. He had no choice, the only way to minimize the pressure of the blades was to keep both of his feet firmly planted on the block of ice and subject his sensitive paws to the frigid torment it dished out.

The bat just smiled wickedly at the spirit's conundrum, reveling in his suffering as he tried to find some way to escape his torment. After a few more fruitless attempts to find a position that would relieve his aching body, Ori relented, forcing himself to endure the biting cold against his feet. The spirit whined pitifully as the cold slowly permeated his soles, numbing his nerves yet at the same time creating an intense sensation of pins and needles within his feet. To make matters worse, the sheer cold sent his body shivering, causing his skin to tremble against the serrated ropes and send relentless stings all across his body. Yet still Ori resisted the urge to move, fearing even greater bites from those blood soaked blades. He just stood there, shivering and weeping bitterly, wondering just how long the bat planned to subject him to this torture.

But unfortunately for Ori, as bad as things seemed now, his torment was not yet complete. It was only after several long hard minutes that the truly fiendish nature of his torture was revealed. Though Ori may have felt frozen to the core, his internal body temperature was still actually quite warm. Consequently, the fur around his feet had started to grow damp with something other than blood. But with his soles nearly numb, he didn't even notice the change at first. It wasn't until Ori found himself short of breath that the poor spirit could sense that something was amiss. Was the noose around his neck getting tighter?! In fact it felt like all of his bonds were just a tiny bit snugger. His eyes darted downward, and there he could see it, a mix of blood and water trailing over the edges of the ice block.

Of course, how could he have not realized it sooner. The ice wasn't used just to torment his poor feet, his body temperature was causing the ice the melt and as a result causing him sink. It was a diabolical design, the more he sank, the tighter his ropes would become, and the cool ambient air would ensure that the ice melted slowly, making it a very long and agonizing process. This realization sent a new wave of despair crashing over Ori. He was already beyond miserable, and the thought that it was only going to get worse was almost too much for him to bear. He looked to the bat with pleading eyes. Though the monster had never shown mercy before, and certainly wouldn't now, it was all Ori could think to do, all that was within his power TO do. The bat was his god now. He controlled everything Ori saw, smelled, heard, felt, and even tasted. And the bat had used that power over him to make sure that the spirit's senses would all experience only one thing... pure unfiltered agony.

With the full extent of his predicament realized, Ori seemed that much more aware of the subtle changes in his bonds. It was like with every bit of ice that melted, he could feel the blades tear that much deeper into his flesh and the noose grew that much tighter around his neck. Minutes dragged on into hours, the soft melody of his misery slowly building to noisy symphony of suffering. It was becoming hard to breathe, his neck and chest both tightly constricted by his cruel bonds. His torture had become a devastating triple strike on his senses. The bitter cold ravaged his sensitive feet as sharp steel cut deep into his flesh, all while his lungs burned from lack of air.

But even then his torment dragged on, the rig's cruel design keeping the noose from fully closing off his throat and denying him the mercy of suffocation. Instead it remained a slow and excruciating process, having his air supply was cut off little by little while also suffering the slowly constricting bite of dozens of razor sharp teeth. All the while, the bat watched on in fascination, drinking in the poor spirit's anguish like a fine wine. The way tears flowed down Ori's cheeks as the he sobbed. The way rivulets of blood oozed down his body to pool around his feet and paint his paws a deep crimson. The cute way he trembled from weakness and pain. The bat admired it all. It was truly a form of art.

But for Ori it was sheer agony, and the prospect of death was looking more and more entice by the moment. It reach the point where he actually found himself wishing the stupid ice block would just melt already and put an end to his misery. He even tried willing his feet to move in an attempt to scrape away the ice faster, but he could hardly feel his soles anymore, and wasn't even sure if his paws were responding to his commands. It was a pitiful state to be in, not even having enough power to hasten his own demise and ease his suffering just a little. He wanted to scream, to voice all of his anguish and despair, but all he could manage through the ever tightening noose was a weak and pitiful wheeze.

It was a relief when the darkness finally started to creep in at the edges of his vision. If he was lucky, he would black out and never wake up again. It was a nice thought, to finally be free from this nightmare. But it was a foolish hope. Ori knew the bat all to well. That sadistic monster would never let him have such an easy out. No doubt he would wake up in an even greater hell, full of all new horrors for him to experience. The very thought sent him into a spiral of panic as his consciousness waned and the darkness finally took him. No! No! Please, no more! Please! Please. Please... just... let... me... die...