(Torture Scene) Too disturbing? Request for comment.

I have a torture scene in chapter five of A traitor's War. Initial feedback suggests that it is a "bit disturbing".

I would welcome some feedback on this. The violence in the scene is well contexted to the story, and the genre is Urban Fantasy/Techno-Thriller.

Is the scene over the top? About right? Could be more full on?

Is the scene a reading turn-off, if you read this scene, would you stop reading the book?

Thanks in advance.

* * *

The Red Empire assassin had been crucified on an X-shaped frame. The raw steel frame stood within a bare open space. The floor was polished concrete, the ceiling and walls lost in darkness. Illumination was provided by a single modern lantern resting a dozen feet in front of the frame.

The assassin’s eyes flickered open as he regained consciousness. He gasped in pain. Metal spikes had been driven through his feet, knees, elbows and hands. He had been pinned to the frame like an exotic butterfly to a piece of corkboard. But unlike an insect in a collection - he was still very much alive.

Emerging from the shadows, General Haras Mosule said, ‘I see that you have returned to us.’

He carried a squat, gray, ceramic urn. It was fat bodied with a narrow neck. He placed it on the floor next to the lantern. ‘I have grown tired of hunting you and your ilk. You are the unlucky one to be caught just when my patience has become exhausted.’

‘Traitor! I will give you nothing,’ The assassin shouted.

Haras frowned and said, ‘We will see if an ancient pet of the Red Empire changes your mind.’

The assassin’s gaze focused on the urn. His skin paled, his eyes widened, and he whispered incredulously, ‘Olgoi Khorkhoi?’

‘Yes, Al Far,’ Haras said calmly. ‘A Mongolian death worm.’

Al Far shuddered on the cross. His hands clenching spasmodically. Fresh blood dripped from his wrists and splattered on the concrete.

Haras smiled briefly, shaking his head gently. ‘I have recently fed, you will not distract me with such a display.’

Al Far rallied, his eyes narrowing. ‘It’s a trick. That urn is too small to hold a worm.’

‘You are right,’ Haras said, nodding. His eyes gleamed in the lantern light. ‘It’s too small to hold even a young juvenile worm.’

Haras pulled a thick, black, rubber glove from behind his belt and stretched it over his right hand. The glove reached up to his elbow, he flexed his fingers in front of his face, making sure that the glove fitted perfectly and was free of holes. He knew exactly how dangerous a Mongolian death worm was to human or vampire. The venom of an adult worm could kill a man in seconds and a vampire in minutes. Just touching the skin of a death worm was hideously painful. The larval form was without venom, but it’s touch was as agonizing as an adult. For the purpose of interrogation, the larval form was far more useful than an adult worm.

Haras unlocked the lid, lifting it slowly and carefully off the urn. His gloved hand blurred down into the urn’s neck. His arm vibrated and thrashed as he hunted the worm. Fine sand sprayed across the concrete floor as he jerked his hand free. In his grip writhed a pale worm, an oversized maggot, two inches thick and nine inches long. It’s maw gaped open, revealing a trilateral arrangement of curved black fangs. Lines of smaller teeth disappeared in rows down its throat. Its tail ended in a hard nub, the immature form of a deadly sting.

Haras approached the assassin, putting the worm a hand span in front of Al Far’s eyes. The larva responded by straining in Haras’ grip, repeatedly lunging at the man’s face.

Haras leaned in and whispered, ‘A freshly hatched larva.’

Al Far moaned, pulling his head back as far as he could.

‘This one is hungry,’ Haras said. ‘He hasn’t been fed for days. I think he’s quite starved, the poor thing.’

‘Tanin al Layl - you and the vampires will never win.’

Haras snorted. ‘You know my old name. I haven’t been called the Night Dragon for more than a century.’

Al Far ground out the words. ‘The Red Empire never forgets.’

Haras’ eyes narrowed.

Al Far stared at Haras, and vowed, ‘And we never forgive.’

Haras smiled grimly. ‘You should worry about yourself first.’ He pushed the worm closer, to within an inch of Al Far’s eyes. ‘Where is the location of the Red Empire Citadel? Tell me now and the worm goes back in the urn.’

Al Far shook his head, his lips pressed tightly together.

‘I will kill you quickly.’

The assassin shook his head again.

Haras hummed, shrugged his shoulders and took a step back.

Al Far glared at him in silence.

Haras ripped Al Far’s tunic open, baring his chest and stomach. He dangled the worm in front of Al Far’s abdomen and said, ‘They like the soft flesh best. It takes a long time to die when they enter there.’

The worm writhed and twisted. Its powerful muscles rippling under it’s skin. It turned and snapped at Haras’ fingers. He jerked his hand back. Grinning ruefully, he re-established a sure grip on the larva.

Haras said knowingly, ‘You will tell me in the end.’

‘Never,’ snapped Al Far.

Haras slapped the worm onto Al Far’s stomach. In less than a second fresh blood splashed on the floor and the worm disappeared into the assassin’s abdomen. Al Far’s eyes rolled upward and he screamed in agony.

Haras stepped away. The bare skin over Al Far’s torso writhed, several ribs cracked loudly as the assassin's body bucked on the frame. The bloody head of the worm emerged for a moment, its maw working, clearing meat and gristle before looping over to burrow back into the man’s body.

Haras allowed the worm to feast for another ten seconds as Al Far shrieked and cried out. His hand blurred forward like a knife through the first entry wound and with a loud sucking sound he pulled the blood drenched worm free from Al Far’s body. The worm, slick with blood, whipped back and forth in Haras’ iron grip.

Al Far gasped and moaned in relief.

Haras leaned in close and whispered. ‘Where is the Citadel?’

Al Far whispered a few words and then convulsed, blood pouring from his mouth. Haras grinned, a hard light in his eyes. He knew just where the Red Empire Citadel was hidden in Jerusalem. His long search was at an end.

He replaced the death worm larva back into the urn and closed the lid. Carefully locking it tight.

It is time to use the newly recruited praetorians against the Red Empire, he thought decisively. We will see how their modern weapons and tactics go against our ancient foe.

Haras picked up the urn and disappeared into the darkness. He left the pinned corpse of the Red Empire assassin dripping blood onto the concrete floor.