A/N: Chapter three~ Enjoy. Can you tell I like using Lana del Rey songs as inspiration?

. . .

Cruel World

Chapter three: Video Games

It's you, it's you, it's all for you, everything I do, I tell you all the time…

-Heaven is a place on earth on with you.

Tell me all the things you want to do-

I heard you like the bad girls honey- is that true?

-It's better than I ever even knew. They say the world is built for two.

Only worth living if somebody is loving you.

Baby now you do.

For every hit that was placed upon his metal pole from someone whom he onced called partner and friend, Jack Spicer took all of his hate that grew in abundance and directed it to the very person forcing Raimundo to do this to him. He fended off Raimundo for a while, dodging several kicks and even some elemental wind attacks but found himself growing to be tired. He knew he could not keep up anymore. He knew he was going to lose. For a brief moment, he glanced at Chase whom stood there crossing his arms watching the display like a tyrant watching his people fight to their bloodied deaths and still thought of nothing more of how he wanted him to pay for tarnishing Raimundo, using him like an object and having this moment even be a moment.

Jack fended off Raimundo as best as he could but found himself growing to be devoid of energy to fight him. Jack fell to his knees, dropping his staff and immediately felt Raimundo's hands clench around his neck, tightening slowly but surely. Chase had a look of pure madness on his face and all Jack could do is return it with a glare. He walked closer, stopping Raimundo's hands and removing them from his neck.

"Did you really think you would die so easily, Spicer?"

"Go to hell," Jack snarled.

It would be the last words he would say at the moment as Chase placed his hand upon his face, causing Jack to become unconscious.

. . .

Jack awoke to a cold dungeon with his hands and feet chained. So far, it didn't look like Chase beat him… yet. He was probably waiting for Jack to awake, so he could deliver the pain necessary while listening to Jack scream and cry out.

Of course. The bastard is going to torture me to death. He's so clichéd. But… Raimundo. I can't let him be used like that.

Jack heard a door open and walked in Chase. He promptly rolled his eyes upon seeing the warlord enter the cell with him, looking at him with the most obvious and less-subtle smirk on his face.

"You know, if I weren't chained, I would rip that stupid smirk off your face," Jack snarled. "Probably throw some acid if I had any in your face too, for fucking up Raimundo's mind like that."

Chase simply bent down, and lifted up Jack's chin so their eyes met. What happened next was Chase releasing the shackles binding Jack. He knows that he won't be able to do anything. Won't be able to run nor do anything else in that nature to protect himself. Some twisted form of smile appears on Chase's face as he makes his next move.

Jack lets out screams out of his control as Chase just does anything to release his anger on him for having the audacity to challenge him time after time again. Jack is shaking as Chase keeps on beating him. He can feel at least two of his ribs broken. He can see his skin bruised to the likes where he could not hide what has happened to him in any manor. At last as Jack is groaning on the ground and coughing up blood from his mouth, Chase stops, or so Jack thinks.

He lifts Jack upright, and all Jack can do is glare. It would be too painful to utter a word.

"Still have some fight in you? We'll have none of that," he says.

He moves stuck red hair from hiding Jack's left eye.

Jack screams until he falls unconscious from the curdling pain.

. . .

An agonizing five hours later, Jack awakens. He is still not chained and the gate that which held him is now wide open. It seems Chase had no further use of him and would allow the genius to leave whenever he saw fit. Jack didn't want to waste the opportunity. He hated Chase with all of his being but he wasn't about to test the distorted generosity of Chase and stay to endure more pain.

Standing was hell, but Jack managed to do it, and returned to what used to be Raimundo's home.

He cleaned dried blood off of his body and washed his hair, red dye coming out to reveal his original white hair color. Once he finished cleaning up himself, he bandaged his chest, having an extensive knowledge on how to care for certain broken bones as the genius hated hospitals and tried his best to avoid them at all costs despite whatever injury he had. He dried his hair, it's length reaching to his mid back. He crafted himself a square, white eyepatch in a matter of minutes and put it on, and also parted his hair so that it covered the eyepatch as well.

A while later, Hannibal's crow came along and dropped a red bottle in his hands, and left a note.

"To undo that spell on Raimundo. Use it wisely."

He cannot rest, despite his injuries. He has to bring Raimundo back. Resting while Raimundo was doing everything Chase told him like a mindless slave would be an insult to him, and an insult to Jack himself.

Do I love him? Is that why? Is that why I don't care about what's happened to me?

He walked back to the bathroom after hiding away the potion where only he could find it and looked at himself through the mirror.

He cried through one eye.

. . .

A/N: So, so sorry that this is rushed! I wanted to get it out as I've been putting it off for way too long. I hope you enjoyed regardless.