Dima screams freely. It doesn't matter much to him whether the guards get off on it or not. Why should he care what goes on in somebody else's mind? Besides, if he tried to hold back, then they'd go on to something worse until they broke him. And they would eventually break him, making it a loss on his part. As it is, Dima had decided long ago that his screams are just the sound of pain leaving the body - no shame in it.

He rolls into the fetal position, wraps his hands in chains and hides them between his legs, taking care not to be too obvious about it. The last thing he needs is for them to know that he was afraid of them targeting his fingers.

As always, he considers surrender. Lets the thoughts flow through him and out him. No shame in thinking about giving up either, he tells himself, so long as you don't really do it.

It's the natural thought to have under circumstances like this. But no - no, never. Not just because of the code anymore, but because if he gives up now, it will make all of his past suffering pointless. He needs to justify this pain.

Half-consciously, he hears the other guards and Korram Alstan. Oddly enough, the first thought that floats through his fevered, pain-wracked mind is what a sin it is to ruin good skin - good canvas - with a burn.