A/N: Warning. This story contains depictions of torture. Nothing too graphic, but enough to warrant a T rating. If you haven't backed out of this story yet and plan to read it, enjoy.
I wake up and I realize that I don't know where I am. I open my eyes and I can't see anything. I don't know if it is because the room is completely dark or if it's because I'm blindfolded. I can't tell. I must have been drugged.
I think that I'm sitting in a chair and that my arms are bound behind my back and that my ankles are tied to the legs of the chair. I also think that there is a gag in my mouth. But I'm not sure of any of those things.
There is no question now. I can't think of any other plausible explanation. I have to be experiencing the after effects of drugs. What it is, I have no idea. I've never felt like this before.
While I sit blindly in the dark, I try to remember how I got here. Wherever here is.
Chuck and Sarah, along with Ellie and Devon were all enjoying a nice dinner in a quiet little restaurant. The two couples couldn't be any more different. Ellie and Devon were sitting so close to one another that they were practically on top of each other. Smiles and love for the other radiated between them. Chuck and Sarah kept as much distance between them as possible without it seeming suspicious. The only thing that radiated between them was an insurmountable amount of tension.
Chuck, unable to bear eye contact with the beautiful spy he loved, but couldn't have, for very long without the pain in his chest becoming too great, was easily distracted by everything around him that wasn't Sarah.
One of these distractions came from a man who walked into the restaurant with a gorgeous girl on his arm. As they passed by the table at which the group was sitting, a familiar sensation hit him and he flashed.
Ellie and Devon only had eyes for each other and didn't notice Chuck's strange reaction. But Sarah had noticed the signs of a flash and leaned toward Chuck to allow him to whisper into her ear. To anyone else, the scene would look like a couple whispering sweet nothings into one another's ears, but what Chuck whispered had nothing to do with romance.
"What is it with guys and hiding intel in their belt buckles?"
After Chuck filled her in on the information the flash contained, which wasn't much, Sarah excused herself and headed for the bathrooms.
Locking herself in the stall furthest from the door, Sarah pulled out her phone and quickly dialed the number that would eventually link her to Beckman.
After giving Beckman the information they had, which included nothing about the man carrying the intel, other than his love for beautiful women, Sarah was instructed to get alone with this man, take possession of the intel contained in his belt buckle and immediately report back to Castle.
With the reluctant help of Chuck, Ellie and Devon had left the other couple alone. Once they were out of sight, Chuck, even more reluctantly than before, left the table until only Sarah remained.
Now alone, Sarah immediately went to work. It didn't take long before she had the man's undivided attention. The girl who was hanging all over him was all but forgotten. Before she knew it, they were up in his hotel room. That's when the real mission began.
Things were going great. She had him completely under her spell. Everything was going according to plan, until she began working to remove his belt.
She managed to get it off, but he quickly snatched it from her. Before she could react, he had forcibly slung the buckle into her temple. The force knocked her over and when she fell, her head connected with the hard metal of the footrest at the bottom of the bed.
Now I remember. For the first time in a very long time, I was unsuccessful in my mission. I had underestimated my target. But how could I have known what he was capable of? I had absolutely no information on this man. Not even a name.
The darkness and silence of my surroundings engulfed me as I sat alone waiting for whatever was going to happen to me here. Waiting for the unknown was like a form of torture. The longer you were forced to wait, the more time your imagination had to paint the most horrific visions of what would be coming to you.
I have no idea how long I wait. I'm completely unaware of time. It's become like a foreign concept to me. One second can feel like an hour. A minute can go on for an eternity.
Finally, I hear the creak of a thick metal door. Someone has come for me, but it's too late. My mind has already started attacking itself. It's full of crazy ideas. I've imagined a million terrible scenarios. Along with the still lasting after effects of my drugging and my bound and gagged state, I'm defenseless to fight back.
I don't have to wait long to get an idea of what will happen to me in this room. My gag is pulled from my mouth. It now hangs around my neck. The bright florescent lights are painfully blinding as the blindfold is swiftly removed from my eyes.
Before my eyes adjust to the brightness, a large knife cuts into the right side of my face. After the shock and the sharp sensation of pain, I feel the warmth and stickiness of my blood ooze out onto my cheek. It runs down my neck and sinks into the cloth that made up my gag.
For the first time, my eyes fall upon my attacker. I don't know his name, but I recognize his face. His slick black hair and his olive-green eyes. His eyes, while familiar are quite different as well. Gone is the lightness they once held. The only thing reflected in those eyes now is pure evil.
His tall, muscular frame is familiar to me too. I estimate his height to be around 6' 4" or 6' 5" and his weight must be around 200 pounds. I know that he is strong, much stronger than I am. This is the man who slung a belt buckle into my face earlier tonight. At least I think it was tonight. I have no way of knowing how long the drugs I was given knocked me out.
Finally he opens his mouth to speak to me as he runs his finger across the back of the knife which is stained with my blood. "That was to show you how serious I am. I will not tolerate you playing games with me."
"Now, let me tell you why you're here. Oh wait. How rude of me, I never introduced myself. My name is Ralph Marks. I'm one of the highest ranking members of the Ring." He sees the brief flash of recognition in my eyes. "Ah, so I was right. You have heard of us. Well then, I probably don't need to tell you what I want, because you already know don't you?"
He stands there looking at me with menacing eyes, as though he wants me to supply the answer as to the reason I've been taken. I know what he wants. He wants the new version of the Intersect. He wants Chuck. My Chuck. I won't give him the satisfaction of an answer. He will have to say it.
"So, I see that you wish to be stubborn. That's alright. I'll say it, but you will pay for your silence." He crouches to the floor. I wish I could kick him, but I'm bound to this chair. The small unstained by my blood portion of the knife, gleams under the bright lights, as it slices into my leg. "I want the human Intersect and I know that you know who it is."
The long gash runs from the outside of my left leg just below my knee, all the way around the front and down to my ankle on the inside. My whole leg burns from the pain. But I keep my face controlled. I will not let this despicable man see my pain.
"You may ask why I cut your leg simply because you did not acknowledge that you knew what I was looking for? Well it's simple. I told you that I don't play around. I always get what I want and you will be no different. You will give me what I want."
I have suffered torture before, but this guy is extreme. I know that the torture I will face at the hands of this man, will be unlike any torture I have ever experienced before. But what this man does not know, is what the man he is looking for means to me. He does not how much pain I will endure to keep him safe. He does not know that I will gladly die to protect him. He does not know that I love him.
"So Agent Walker, yes I know your name. Are you ready for the torture to begin? I've heard of your greatness. I'm quite honored to meet the most talked about and feared agent of the CIA. I can't wait to see how well you hold up against my unforgiving torture."
He reaches behind his back. I don't know what he's going for. Is it a gun? Another knife? My heart rate kicks up a notch as I wait for the weapon to be revealed. It emerges from behind his back and catches the light. It's another knife.
Each hand now holds a sharp blade, one bloody, the other clean. He brandishes them through the dusty air of the cold metal room with an evil scowl on his face.
He approaches me, the point of the clean knife nearing my face. He places the clean blade on my uncut cheek. "Now, Agent Walker, do you want to give me the identity of the Intersect?" As he speaks, he pulls the blade down my cheek, keeping the pressure just light enough that my face was spared from obtaining another scar.
I sit there silently. I will not betray Chuck. I do not care what this man does to me. I will never trade away his safety for mine. His life is far more valuable than mine and not just because he is the Intersect. His life is more important than mine because of the feelings I have for him.
The knife's blade still rests on my face and when I do not answer it digs into my soft flesh. This cut is deeper than the one on the other side of my face. It produces more blood and causes more pain. I can't completely hide my agony this time and I squeeze my eyes tightly shut.
"Let's try this again shall we? Who is the Intersect?"
My silence fills the room. I will not give Chuck up. This Mr. Ralph Marks will just have to keep up his torture routine because I won't sell out that curly brown head or those warm cocoa eyes.
My sealed lips anger him and his eyes burn with fury. He raises the two blades and in one swift movement, slices both of my arms. Blood now exudes from the future scars that have been created on my upper arms.
He puts his hands on my shoulders and leans in. His face is seething with barely contained anger. "One last time. Tell me the identity of the Intersect!"
I feel his hot breath on my face and it disgusts me. For the first time since he entered the room, I speak. "Get your disgusting foul breath out of my face!"
I know it's not a smart move, but I can't help it. This horrid man is cutting me open little by little. It was testing the limits of my control. When he got in my face, I couldn't take it any longer and I lost it.
When I see his face after he puts distance between us, I see that his anger has grown exponentially. He clutches the top of the handle of the knife in his right hand and slams it into my temple.
My head screams in pain. The bruise and the little cut resulting from being hit by the hard metal of a belt buckle are still fresh. The intense pain caused by the force of the blow against my recently injured temple, causes me to react violently. I thrash around in my chair, but it's no use. I'm not going anywhere. I settle down and the racket of the chair knocking against the floor ceases. The room is quiet again.
"I want a name this time. What is the name of the human Intersect?!"
His strong hands squeeze my arms. More blood is released from my fresh cuts. It hurts and I'm barely able to contain my scream. I keep my eyes tightly closed and I grit my teeth with as much force as I can muster. He grips my arms tighter and my mouth can no longer remain shut. I give him what he wants. I softly speak a name. "Bryce Larkin."
He releases me and I think my plan has worked. But then I see his face and I see the anger written in his eyes. He doesn't believe me, but I continue on the same path anyway, hoping to convince him that what I say is true. Or at least that I believe it to be true.
The pain in my arms lessens and I scream at him. "Bryce Larkin was the only Intersect and your men killed him! You killed the Intersect!" Real anger over and emotion regarding Bryce's recent death seeps out and I add, "You killed my friend!"
He still doesn't believe my words and he flies into a fit of rage. "Agent Walker, I hate liars! Now you will really feel my wrath!"
I become like the Thanksgiving turkey as he carves me up. Both blades furiously dance through the air and cut into my skin. My entire body screams with pain as I'm unrelentingly cut open all over. I cannot contain it any longer and my mouth lets out an earth-shattering scream of pain. With every cut, my screams grow louder. Silently, I start begging for the sweet release of death.
Death doesn't come and he finally stops. But my pain-filled screams do not. Every inch of my body feels like it's on fire. No bit of exposed flesh was spared. I've become a mass of bloody gashes.
My new dress was cut up in the wild attack too. Blood seeps through the fabric of the ruined garment. Every blood soaked section showing where the knives have cut through my skin.
I continue to scream in agony. Every part of my body is throbbing. My pain distracts me and I lose track of the man who is intent on making me betray Chuck.
He reappears in my line of sight and I see that he is no longer carrying the knives. I see them lying on the table behind him. In his hand, he now holds a long leather whip.
He rears back and throws his arms out. The leather of the whip snaps against my thigh. My leg is sent an intense stinging pain. I cry out in anguish. At that precise moment, my assailant speaks. I'm barely able to hear what he says. "I want that name!"
He swings the whip again. My arm now feels the same intense stinging pain as my leg. "Give me that name!"
When I still do not utter a sound, save for the expression of my pain, he launches into a rapid succession of attacks against my already severely battered body. Every other second, the whip violently snaps against a different part of my skin. Each snap of the whip adds another bruise to my body.
I wish for death. My suffering is too great. Agony and anguish have fused themselves to every single cell of my body. The pain has soaked through my skin. My muscles and even the depths of my bones ache with extreme pain.
Why does death not come for me? Why does my heart fight to keep beating? Why do my lungs insist on forcing my breath out? Why am I still alive?!
The whip continues to crack against my flesh. "Agent Walker. Identify the Intersect and I will stop. You won't have to suffer anymore. Is withholding this information from me really worth all of this pain, this never-ending torture?"
My scream has become constant. My pain is severe. I almost miss the question that has just been asked of me. Is Chuck's well-being worth all of my suffering? There is no doubt in my mind. He most certainly is.
I force my mouth to say the word that fills my throat. "YES!"
My answer causes him to fly into a fit of uncontrolled rage. He slings the whip, releasing it from his hand. It soars through the air and smacks into the wall. As his hand flies back, it connects with my cheek. The cuts on my face catch fire upon impact.
He storms past me. His heavy boots crashing into the metal floor. He disappears behind me. I hear him making noise and I think he picks something up.
A moment later the back of the wooden chair breaks as it is hit with something. The object continues on its path and when connects with my back, I hear the telltale signs of bones cracking. I let out the loudest scream as I have throughout the entire torture process.
With the back of the chair now broken, I fall face forward and my cheek slams against the hard metal of the floor. My legs swing out from under me, still bound to the bottom of the broken chair.
As I lay there with agony burning through me, I begin to hear echos in the distance. The sound grows louder as they come closer to where I'm being held. Whether they're friend or foe, I do not know.
As they near, I can hear voices shouting. I try to listen to what they say, but I can't make out the words. Then I recognize a voice. Casey. My partner has come to rescue me. I just hope it's not too late.
The words become clear as they come closer and now there is no mistaking who has stormed the building. When my torturer realizes the cavalry has arrived, he quickly snatches up one of the bloody knives from the table.
He rushes over to me. Grabbing my hair, he yanks my head up. The blade of the knife is pressed against my neck and he lacerates my throat. I don't feel the pain for but a second, because I black out.
A/N: If you stuck it out until the end, thank you. I hope you enjoyed it. Look for Chapter 2 soon.