Gohan wasn't sure what awoke him first, the overwhelming humidity or the throbbing pain in the back of his skull. He made to rub the back of his head but that only served to make him aware of how his hands were bound above his head.

His eyes snapped open, and he looked around frantically. His breath hitched as he realized his arms were bound with ki-charged steel shackles that looped around the headboard of the bed he was currently kneeling upon. He pulled back, using all of his weight as leverage, attempting to break the bonds around his wrists. The sheets gave way under his repeated struggles until the once well made furniture was nothing more than a tangled mess.
He sighed violently through his grit teeth, resting his forehead on the V his arms created.

And that's when he noticed his clothes were missing.
Son Gohan let loose a stream of expletives, cursing everything and everyone who had succeeded in pissing him off the last few days.

"You're finally awake."

Gohan turned his head, meeting the eyes of a very cold Piccolo Daimou.

"Where's Piccolo? For that matter, where the hell am I?" Gohan demanded, spiking his ki for the intimidation value.

"Don't be so pissy." Daimou commanded, moving from the doorway to the bedside table.
He picked up the medium sized, dark green bottle and poured a ruby-red liquid from it. Gohan noticed, with some disgust, that Daimou was pouring the liquid into the hollowed-out skull of a demonic creature. Daimou tipped the skull to his lips and drank greedily, not caring that a small stream slid past the corner of his mouth and slid down his throat.

"So, why did you bring me here?" Gohan asked angrily.

Daimou regarded him out of the corner of his eye for a moment, before reaching out and snatching a fistful of his hair. "What I brought you here for is none of your concern!" he snarled.

Daimou's hand maintained a steady grip on Gohan's hair, while he dug the talons in his free hand into Gohan's chest; he pulled his hand down slowly, relishing the way Gohan cried out in pained surprise. He slapped both of his cheeks mockingly.
"You're stubborn, like your monkey father."
He threw Gohan's head away from him in disgust. "Breaking you is going to be the highlight of my eternity down here."

"Breaking me? How do you plan on accomplishing that?"

Daimou showed just a hint of fang as he began to disrobe himself.

Gohna pulled away, fear gripping his entire form.

Piccolo had never flown so fast in his entire life. The wind sucked the very breath was sucked from his lungs as he reached his destination and began his ninety-degree ascension. He couldn't even think about his breathlessness, all he could do was replay the last moments wherein his Sire had effectively taken Gohan straight out from underneath him. Piccolo barely even registered the blink of power appearing next to him.

"Piccolo, I can't sense Gohan anymore! What happened?" Goku asked, panic evident in his voice.
Piccolo didn't acknowledge his presence in the slightest, he kept his eyes straight ahead and focused on his destination.

"Piccolo, what happened to my son?" Goku asked, anger replacing some of his panic.

Receiving no answer, Son Goku did the next best thing: He grabbed Piccolo by the collar of his shirt, and punched him in the face.

Piccolo shook his head, trying to right what Goku had knocked loose. "Thanks, I needed that." he growled, resetting his jaw.

"No problem, now what happened to Gohan?" Goku asked, suddenly feeling more calm himself.

"I don't know." Piccolo admitted, "One second he was with my Sire and I, and the next Daimou grabbed him and disappeared. I...I don't know what happened. "

"So what is your plan?"

"Dende has the power to move between the Otherworld and ours without dying, he can transport me to where Daimou has taken Gohan." Piccolo stated.

"What should I do?" Goku asked.

"You should go with Dende and find out exactly how Daimou got into our world in the first place. It'll do us no good to kill him if he can weasel back here and start trouble again."

Goku nodded, agreeing with Piccolo's plan.

"The only difficult part will be sneaking i-"
Piccolo's voice cut off midword, causing Goku to stare in alarm. Piccolo through his head back and howled in pain. He clutched at his head and clenched his eyes shut against the sensation.
If Piccolo could have described the feeling he would have told Goku that it felt like being blasted by Nappa while being stabbed and sucked dry by Cell, all while listening to Gohan whistle his dancing dragon song to him. In short words: It fucking killed.

Minutes later as the sensations began to ebb in waves he could finally process the fact that Goku was shaking him and asking him what was wrong.

"I don't know, but I think someone's hurting Gohan."

Piccolo Daimou poured himself another skull-full of wine, sighing in contentment as he sipped it. He turned back to look at the young man on the bed.

Gohan stared blankly at the woodwork on the bedside table. He'd been staring at it's pattern for the past twenty minutes, trying desperately to block out what Daimou had done. Gohan didn't register that Daimou had spoken to him.

He gasped violently as he felt a slap ripple across his face.

"There you go, I thought you left me for a minute." Daimou sneered.

Daimou's eyes drank the broken body before him in; the bruises around his neck, the jagged claw marks along his back, the raw spots on his skin where he'd struggled with his bonds, the vicious bite marks lining the boys shoulders, and the blood that spilled over the boys' thighs in thick rivets.
"And to think, that's just what his back looks like." Daimou thought happily.

"Good thing no one's come for you yet, I'm just getting started."

Without another word, Daimou turned and left the room, materializing a set of clothing as he did so.

Without Daimou there to see him, Gohan buried his face in the mattress and sobbed.

"That's the situation as we know it, Dende." Goku explained.

"You get us to the Otherworld, Piccolo will rescue Gohan, and You and I will find the entrance Diamou used to get to this world."

Dende nodded in agreement.

Not another word was spoken between the three, and they winked in between the living world and the Otherworld. They reappeared standing in front of a very confused King Yemma. Piccolo didn't stick around to make small talk, he jumped behind a small puff cloud heading southward.

The intense smell of sulfur and brimstone hit him with an intensity that would seldom be matched in his lifetime, the heat and humidity burned his skin for a moment feeling akin to a sunburn. He collapsed into a crouching position when he hit the ground. He ducked behind the nearest obstacle, attempting not to draw any more attention to himself than absolutely necessary. He caught his eye on a small path lined with demon bones, he had a feeling it would lead him to Daimou.

With a demonic snarl, Piccolo began running along the marked path.

He had only one thought on his mind as he felt the bones crunch beneath his feet; "You will pay for this Daimou, you will pay."