It felt odd not marking the occasion of the last episode without an update, but I'm still not feeling great - I didn't want to post anything I've not had a chance to read through without the fuzziness that's currently present. So, I'm uploading this instead. It's been written for a while now, but just sat in my files doing nothing. I figured it was time it saw the light of day.
I'll try and update it every other weekend for you guys.
Please be aware that this story is loosely based on the TV show Alias and will contain scenes of death and torture. Feel free to close this window now if they're hard limits for you.
The only sounds that could be heard in the room were the coughing noises coming from her mouth, in a desperate attempt to draw precious air into her lungs.
He gave her a few minutes to calm down before he tried again. "Who sent you?"
Her silence hung in the air between them as his frustration grew.
With a careless wave of his hand her face was forced back into the rusty tub in front of her, and under the cool water inside of it. After a few moments of listening to her struggle to pull herself free, to breathe, he had her brought back up to face him again.
"One more time…. Who sent you?"
"Go to hell," was her only response, as she coughed up the water that had made its way into her lungs.
He took one look at the young woman shivering in front of him before he signaled to his guards to let her go. With a rough shove, she was pushed to the floor at his feet. He took his time, rising slowly from the seat he had been watching the entire ordeal from, and moved to the far side of the room to fetch a plush red towel from one of the cupboards there. When he returned, he dropped down to squat at her side and handed it over. He gave her some time to wipe her face clean and calm her breathing before he took his seat once more.
"I just want to know who sent you. Then this will all be over." His voice was pleasantly sweet, but his tone wasn't fooling her at all. She knew that this would never be over, no matter what she told him.
So she kept her mouth shut.
After ten minutes of strained silence, he signaled for his guards once more. They hurried back over to grab hold of her roughly, leaving marks she knew would bruise. But instead of pushing her down into the tub again, as she had expected, this time they lifted her small frame from the floor and dropped her into the only other piece of furniture in the room.
A large metal dental chair.
She thrashed around as best she could while the guards set to work strapping her in place until she was completely immobile. Her eyes widened in fear as a prop was forced into her mouth, and her lips were spread obscenely wide.
"Last chance," he leered, waving a pair of pliers in front of her face. "Who. Sent. You?"
Her only response was to tighten her grip on the armrests of the chair, as she screwed her eyes shut.
Thanks for reading.