The Villain by Solomiya Andrusiv

At first, he seemed to have
lost his sight. His head seemed to be broken into many little painful pieces. After some time, a streak of light cut the darkness. Someone stepped into his personal darkness. An echo of footsteps erupted, and the iris was suddenly burned with the dazzling bright light of the flashlight.
“So, boy, we're asking again: where are the documents hidden? Just don't you dare say you don't know what I'm talking about!”
Vincent raised his eyes to the tormentor's voice, he wasn't even trying to squint, to hide from the light hitting his eyes, and then moved his indifferent sight at the wall behind man's back. A broken lip was ailing.
When they put on guy's neck his father’s insignia chain, definitely removed from the body of father who refused to talk and intentionally smeared in (most likely his) blood. He gritted his teeth to the pain in his jaws and remained silent, although it seemed to him that all of his insides had turned into molten lead. Silver links unpleasantly clanked against the stones of the floor, the toe of someone's boot flied in his face and Vincent barely managed to cover his head with his hands. When they left, he carefully checked with his tongue whether his teeth had been broken and thought that this would have ended soon.
Very quickly, the guy realized that he'd been mistaken. This went on for hours. When he was losing consciousness, a bucket of ice water was being poured on him and it started all over again. Vincent couldn't remember when it began to seem the whole his body was filled with pain, threatening to dissolve him in itself. But just then the animal thirst for at least a moment's break overcame all other feelings in him, and he whispered, barely tearing his lips shrunken into a continuous bloody crust:
“I’ll tell you everything…”
He didn't utter a word of truth, but they managed to achieve their goal - to make him talk. They must have understood that he was lying no more than a day later, but for some reason no one was touching him anymore. The next few days, the guy was lying with fever in his cramped chamber, and was hearing some voices at nights. When he finally came to his senses and opened his eyes, his father was sitting next to him.
“Now you have understood everything, son”
“Yes, father,” Vincent nods.
Suddenly, the guy heard the sounds of a struggle outside the walls. Then the door opened, and someone shone a flashlight on him and then shouted, “Here is another one! It seems to be alive”. Vincent saw and heard everything as if he was under the water, blurry and obscure, and before he finally lost consciousness, guy detachedly thought that those people, whoever they were, without realizing it, had given him the most dangerous weapon. The pain can make anyone talk or do what he want them to do - he'd learned this lesson too well. And the father and his elder brother at that moment patronizingly smiled at him from the corner of the room.