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    Comic Books 
"I mean, you give me an enemy of the state, I'm good for an afternoon. I'd do this for free."
Tumbril, Empire

    Comic Strips 
"You know, Russell, you're a great torturer. I mean, you can make a man scream for mercy in nothing flat... but boy, you sure can't make a good cup of coffee."
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    Fan Works 
"I think this is very pretty... The design. It’s functional. Finely crafted to exacting specifications. Klingon oy'naQ are so crude. We acquired the design from them, of course, back in the reign of their Emperor Sompek, but we refined it far in advance of their pathetic efforts. It won’t kill you, but the amount of pain or pleasure you feel is entirely up to me. I find it is particularly effective to give akhvet—I believe the human term is 'humanoids', such a self-centered word—a powerful arousal, and then immediately before they peak, trigger their pain center as I did to you just now."
Dalsh Ruul, Frostbite

That had led Desaad down the right track. For tortures of the mind can be even worse than tortures of the body, and Apokolips has mind-probers aplenty.
Pariah could not rise from his chair, held as he was by a stasis beam that paralyzed his lower body. Whatever he faced, he could not get up and walk away from it. Perhaps it would not have helped.
Desaad had clamped a helmet over his head. It transmitted images from his brain to a receiver, which the master torturer of Apokolips manipulated like an orchestra conductor. He picked and chose among the scenes of Pariah's life, helped along by a gauge which glowed more redly when it registered a pattern of fear in a certain remembrance.
The images were recorded and stored in the device's memory bank. Then Desaad began to fiddle with them, for he was an artist, and artists always reshape reality to their best intent. Some of the images were made more subtly frightening. Others were enlarged so as to knock down the viewer's mind with fear coming at him like a diesel train.

    Film - Animated 
"Ease up. Wait between lashes. Otherwise the old sting will dull him to the new."
Judge Claude Frollo, The Hunchback of Notre Dame

    Film - Live Action 
"You know, I never understood all these elaborate tortures. It's the simplest thing... to cause more pain than a man can possibly endure.... And of course, it's not only the immediate agony, but the knowledge... that if you do not yield soon enough... there will be little left to identify you as a man. The only question remains: will you yield, in time?"
LeChiffre, Casino Royale (2006)

"Gentleman, torture as a political instrument is no longer the crude and brutal extraction of information from one's enemies. It has become a subtle and sophisticated specialty."
Dr Clement Molloch, The Evil That Men Do.

"You'd do better to tell us everything. But to make sure it happens, I brought along a few tools. Just things you pick up along the way. At first I won't be able to trust you, but after I use this, you'll own up to a few things. When we get to these we'll have developed a... how can I put this? A closer bond, much like brothers. You'll see. And when we get to this one, I'll believe anything you tell me."
Captain Vidal, Pan's Labyrinth

    Literature 
Heinz spoke briskly, with the pleasure of a man who likes to explain what he does. "It's quite simple, really, a modification of the device neurologists use to administer electric shocks to people suffering unipolar neurosis. Only this administers a far more powerful jolt. The pain is really secondary, I find. Most people don't even remember the pain. What makes them so eager to talk is an aversion to the process. This might almost be called an atavism. Someday I hope to write a paper."

Bones are not organs, under the Protocols. I've got that stuck up on the wall in the locker room, the briefing room, big signs, all caps: BONES ARE NOT ORGANS.
That leaves a lot of running room. The kneecap? What you can do with the kneecap? That alone will get you further than you need to go, in almost every case. The kneecap. The chin. The lowest knuckle on the forefinger. Those are my favorite bones. I always say, you can tell my guys in a crowd. From their hands.
Sacrament, by Matt Williamson

    Light Novel 
Tick was a kind man. He was a supremely innocent person, one who had no business associating with the mafia. But he had one talent: He was very, very good at hurting and torturing people.
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    Live-Action TV 
Good morning. Now, before we begin your interrogation, I'll need some information. Do you have any allergies or illnesses that I should know about? Are you currently taking any medication? Had any trouble with your heart? You'll answer my questions when they are asked. Resistance will be punished. Cooperation will be rewarded.
Babylon 5, Intersections in Real Time

"Unlike some other houses, my ancestors earned the Bolton words: "Our Blades Are Sharp." They passed down not a Valyrian greatsword, but a knife, honed and thin enough to fit between the topmost layer of skin and the tissue below... and peel. For as we all learned as children, "A naked man has few secrets, a flayed man none."
Roose Bolton, Game of Thrones: History and Lore

Roose Bolton: What did you do to him?
Ramsay Snow: I trained him. He was a slow learner, but he learned.
Roose Bolton: You flayed him.
Ramsay Snow: I peeled a few bits... removed a few others.

Colonel Flagg: Have you ever heard of Malaysian Chest Implosion Torture?
Radar: [intimidated] No.
Colonel Flagg: Good. It hasn't been invented... yet.
M*A*S*H, "The Abduction of Margaret Houlihan"

    Radio 
Doctor: Wouldn't this be easier over a cup of tea, not the operating table?
Dr. Findecker: That precludes the principle that you might lie to me.
Doctor: The very idea.
Big Finish Doctor Who, "The Butcher of Brisbane"

    Tabletop Games 
Down the stairs, lit by torch-fire, is the chamber every person fears. Those unfortunate enough to be dragged down that final stairwell meet the hooded Torturer. With practiced ease, he breaks their spirits and rends their bodies raw. Sometimes, if the condemned are truly unlucky, he sends their souls to eternal torment, too. When you serve true Darkness, the fun doesn't have to end with death!

Tzimisce differ from, say, Toreador antitribu in their approach to torture. They see themselves more as scientists than artists: their techniques, while amusing in and of themselves, are means to a greater end. Only by meticulously studying pain — physical, mental, and emotional — can one discover the limits of that pain and the means to overcome the Antediluvian's worst on the eve of Gehenna. Thus, most Tzimisce torture sessions are in fact experiments, complete with hypotheses, specific conditions and purposes — however warped and illogical those purposes may seem to mortals or other vampires.
Vampire: The Masquerade - Clanbook: Tzimisce

We’ll save the tongue for last. He’ll need it to confess. As for the rest... well, pick a limb and hand me the pliers.
Interrogator, Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay: Career Compendium - The Ultimate Career Reference

Once you tell us what we need we can dispose of you and all this will end. Until then, we own you and will do with you as we see fit. You are an object now. You are a receptacle for knowledge that we will wring out of you. That process will be easier if you co-operate. You ceased to be a human being when you betrayed your species and your Emperor, the only way out for you is death. I can make it quick but those who come after me will not be so generous.
Inquisitor Nyxos of the Ordo Malleus, Warhammer 40,000

    Video Games 
It is not uncommon to see patients undergo permanent psychological trauma in the presence of the Sphere, before the nerve stapler has even been strapped into position. Its effect on the general consciousness of the culture is profound: husbands have seen wives go inside, and mothers their children. Dr. Xynan left the surface of the sphere semitranslucent for a reason. You can hear them in there; you can see them. It is a thing of terrible beauty.
Baron Klim, "The Music of the Spheres", from Sid Meier’s Alpha Centauri

"[The Archon of Misery] took it upon himself to be our instructor. He taught us the beauty of agony — how to slide the knife just so, how to divide flesh with no mortal wound, and how to inflict waking nightmares upon our foes. No more of our clumsy, blood-soaked efforts for spectacle. True torture is a sensory performance, staged for an audience of one. We were an artist.
We were proficient at our work. Our name spread beyond the boundaries of the child Empire as people whispered it in private, or shrieked it in fear. Whole galleries were erected to display our accomplishments, which were studied and interpreted by head-scratching scholars."
The Voices of Nerat, Tyranny

    Web Animation 
Pirate: (taunting) Oo, What's the matter? Did the big bad freelancer get all tuckered out?
Dr. Grey: Do you know where we are?
Pirate: Huh?
Dr. Grey: This is a remote research facility designed to study the surrounding wildlife. I volunteered at one just like it at grad school. It's got a laboratory, an incinerator and oodles of state-of-the-art surgical equipment. Would you like to see them?
(cut to the outside of the base, with the crew listening to the Pirate's tortured screams and Grey's carefree singing)
Simmons: Sarge... I'm scared.
Red vs. Blue, Season 12 Episode 15 "Accentuate the Interrogative"
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    Web Comics 
Mantis: Well, I can't read their minds. So I assume you want to torture it out of them?
Ocelot: "Torture" is such an inelegant word. I'm an artist. Their testicles are my canvas.
Mantis: Please stop touching me.

Colonel DeHaans: We have a long, winding road of hurt before us, and no choice but to walk it barefoot. These seventy-two mercenaries may be hardened killers with heads full of evil secrets, but they're also living, breathing people with hopes, dreams, and aspirations. For now, anyway.
Over the next thirteen days, you will transform each of these unique sophonts into a quivering bundle of over-stimulated nerve tissue, at the same time bruising your own feet on the stones of "this hurts me more than it hurts you." You will empathize. You will care. You will hate yourself for sharpening your empathy and care into surgical instruments, for excising the tumors of treason and treachery. You will weep as intellects are distilled into intel, and your patients reduced to soulless, mostly-organic husks. You will see yourselves through their emptied eyes as monsters. And in those darkest introspective moments you will despise yourselves because you will know with a certainty that you enjoy your work.
I offer no solace. There is no redemption. We... All of us, we are the damned.
**Beat Panel**
Colonel DeHaans: So... Let's go have some fun!

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