Luke Timothy John. The name once belonged to a simple merchant, a man who navigated the delicate currents between noble demands and the common folk's needs. Until one day, that quiet existence was irrevocably shattered.
It began on a day indistinguishable from any other. Sir John, as he was known, was enjoying a leisurely stroll through the city, his twelve-year-old daughter skipping happily beside him. Suddenly, the chaotic thunder of hooves heralded the duke's young heir, who galloped through the crowded streets with reckless abandon, his arrogant shouts demanding a clear path. At that precise moment, as Sir John paused to complete a transaction, his daughter's cherished red ball slipped from her grasp. She darted into the thoroughfare, retrieving it just as the noble bore down, a blur of untamed horseflesh showing no sign of stopping. Sir John's realization came late, but his mind, a flash of desperate brilliance, moved like lightning. A paralyzing spell, born of pure terror, snapped the horse to a jarring halt, inches from his child. But the sudden stop sent the young duke flying, landing hard on his back.
In that instant, the young duke's face contorted, not just with pain, but with a searing, venomous fury and profound embarrassment. His command was swift, chillingly absolute: Sir John, his entire family, and every last one of his workers were to be arrested. The duke, a figure notorious for his casual cruelty and deep sadism, then orchestrated a spectacle of unspeakable horror, crafted solely for Sir John's torment. He compelled Sir John to watch as the skins of his two sons and all his male workers were methodically, agonizingly peeled away, piece by painstaking piece, their flayed flesh becoming a macabre monument erected before his very eyes.
This same young duke, despite his depravity, was hailed as a magical prodigy. He had come to the city explicitly seeking "volunteers" to perfect a specialized spell. The John family and their workforce, stripped of all free will, became his involuntary subjects in perfecting this grim magic: the Copy and Paste spell, known simply as C + V.
He first applied Copy (C) to the John family and their workers. Then, he cast Paste (V) onto Sir John. Now, with each gruesome strip of skin peeled from his loved ones, the agony was perfectly replicated and inflicted upon Sir John, even as his own body remained miraculously whole. Once a complete flaying was done, the victims were supernaturally healed, only for the gruesome cycle to begin anew, without end.
Mrs. John and her three daughters, aged twenty, fifteen, and twelve, were once celebrated as among the ten most beautiful women in the nation, their grace and spirit a formidable shield against the predatory desires of many, especially the nobles whose persistent advances they had always proudly rebuffed. Now, they, along with their female workers, were prisoners. The young duke, with perverse glee, invited the most depraved nobles to participate in continuous orgies, forcing the John women into the spotlight while Sir John was made to bear witness to every horrific act.
They were violated from dusk till dawn, and through the grim magic, Sir John experienced every shred of their pain, every tearing humiliation. With the close of the first week, the atrocities escalated beyond sexual degradation. The nobles, their humanity utterly shed, began to tear at their flesh with their teeth, consuming their living bodies. A device of the young duke's twisted design, a cruel marvel of magic, ensured their bodies were constantly healed to perfection, agonizingly restored as long as their heads remained intact. This living nightmare persisted, not for days, not for weeks, but for unbearable years on end.