I've made my choice
WARNING: This fic contains torture interrogation so just be warned as I will probably be bumping this up to a mature fic if the reviews believe I should as their opinion will be making my decision. This is my take on what I think Quaritch could be capable of to a traitor a view I think makes him worse then what we see in the film but I think he'd be very capable of seeing as what he did to home tree you have been warned. Also there's some cursing to just in case you don't like that.
Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar the imaginative genius that is James Cameron does.
I don't remember much from the last few hours apart from the periodic agony I could feel between the times I drifted in and out of consciousness, among that paralysing pain my already clouded mind could just about distinguish the main factors which were causing said pain. The first thing I listed was my bare back literally being torn open to shreds by the harsh roots of the native flora while I was dragged stomach up across the forest floor of Pandora. The next cause and effect of my constant suffering was my shattered knee caps which had been inflicted by a heavy mechanical wrench made for repairing the inside joints on the AMP's joints back at hells gate, that part of my interrogation had been well let's just say particularly "fun". This is when a particularly large root sent my head crashing down to the ground as my body left it causing my skull to quite forcefully rebound of the ground. Unfortunately for me my brain decided I wasn't worthy of the blissfulness of a complete blackout and decided to force me back to where I just came from through the power of dreaming…
My mind suffered vertigo as i woke up in the dimly lit room to realise that I was hanging upside down by a steel chain attached to shackles which bound my legs to a chair suspended in mid-air, my arms fared little better leaving me unable to move except for the dizzyingly light forward and backward sway of the seat. A Burning seared in the area of my temple where I could still recall being hit with the butt of a soldier's rifle. Before I could ponder further on where my current location was a door slammed open so hard my ears started to ring causing my already splitting headache to nearly make me vomit reflexively (something that would have made an already dire situation a lot more unpleasant I can tell you.) The light coming through the doorway blinded my unprepared eyes making me instinctually squint them against the irritation, when they had refocused I could make out the silhouette of a broad shouldered man standing inside the frame with his arms crossed. The door closed revealing this person (I use this term very likely I might add) to be none other than an extremely pissed off Colonel Miles Quaritch.
My left cheek exploded in a symphony of pain as the Colonels fist connected with my face sending my now untethered chair falling to the ground with me still stuck in it. It took a second for my brain to realise that the red liquid oozing from my mouth was my own blood staining the concrete floor of the small interrogation chamber. My head lolled forward as I felt my chair being righted up again to the correct position only for me to once again be assaulted by a rage filled Miles Quaritch.
"Where the hell is it?" Quaritch roared into my face his saliva flinging itself unceremoniously on to my forehead to blend in with the sweat already residing there.
"I don't have any clue what you're talking about" I coughed out of my sore throat. That earned me another painful barrage from my assaulter to my bruised head and neck, the purple and black marks from his previous inflictions already starting to show.
"Cut the shit you insubordinate bastard, your little escapade is over we've discovered you've been informing the blue fucking savages when you stole those encrypted data files containing highly classified military information about my attack plans now where the fuck is it?" spat the enraged monster in front of me.
"Where it needed to be" is all I could manage to wheeze out further infuriating my captor.
"You're going to tell me who has my data right now or things are going to get messy very quickly" Miles whispered dangerously into my ear as he lent over my shoulder" Being the defiant moron that I was instead of just staying silent I chose to take the stupid route and reply smugly
"Then you better get your mop and bucket then cos it looks like you're going to have some cleaning up to do" I half choked - half laughed out through my blood stained teeth. That's when I knew things were truly going to get worse if that was even possible as I caught the unnatural glint in Quaritch eyes as his lips turned up in a snarl like smirk he reached into his pocket to pull out a pair of slip joint pliers suddenly the room just got a lot colder as if death itself had entered the room to spectate what was just about to happen.
If the interrogation chamber in Hell's gate hadn't been extreme sound proofed using the latest technology the screams of horror and agony that echoed around the small space would have been heard clear across the base causing any who heard them to retch and go pale but as it was no one could hear those screams coming from within the room and so the base went on oblivious to what was taking place.
There was an audible crack as the bastard broke the last finger left on my left hand before he leaned back to a standing position clearly satisfied with his handy work.
"Now you're going to confess exactly who's been helping you and which other traitor you've gave the files to or Mrs pliers here is going to just as intimated with your right hand as he did with your left you understand? He drawled out his thick accent stained with malice and contempt.
"Go screw yourself" was all I could even manage to croak out before he swooped into apply the same treatment to my right armed appendage causing more unbearable agony to sweep through my body.
"As you wish" was all he said as he finished with his current work to stroll over into the corner of the room placing down the bloodied pliers onto the conveniently placed tool cart only to pick up something that made even more fear bubble up inside me as a heard a familiar sounding hiss coming from something I couldn't see. Turning around it revealed exactly what I was dreading a power torch. Quarich strolled lazily over to me ripped open my fatigues top with the combat knife the psycho path always carried before placing the torch on to its full setting causing the flame to turn from l dim yellow to a scorching blue.
"This is going to be fun" is all he said before I felt the most brutal pain I'd felt so far.
It felt like days had passed when he'd finally given up and decided I wasn't going to betray my cause when in reality it had probably only been a couple of hours if even that. But by the time he gave up I was barely conscious or sane for that matter. The end result of this pointless torture? Every finger and thumb broken on each hand, sever burning scattered randomly across the chest and stomach causing the skin to go black where it was literally cooked, a broken jaw, dislocated shoulder and a fractured eye ridge It must of looked like an artist's masterpiece to that sick minded disturbed sociopath but to me it was the worst moments of my life and I wished that he'd just hurry up and end my life as I just wanted to be dead and have this unbearable pain over with. Unfortunately for me said sociopath only partly agreed with me. He had decided that I was going to die but even in my agony induced haze I wouldn't have expected his decision. He called for a subordinate which if my exhausted ears heard right was named Corporal Joseph Winseth who looked just like the typical brain dead jarhead that Quaritch seemed to inspire zealot like loyalty in to give the following order
"Corporal this pathetic excuse for a human you see before you has betrayed our species by going native and helping our enemies in a time of war in the process killing several soldiers, loyal ones I might add (he spared a disgusted glare at me) to deliver our own strategic data into the opposition's hands. I consider this an act of treason, and what's the penalty for that? He inquired.
"Death by execution sir" Winseth immediately replied staring with unrestrained disdain at me.
"Good man that all I expected to hear from you. Now Take one other man and drag this bastard out by the cuffs on each of his wrists far out into the jungle away from Hells Gate and make an example out of his death as a message to any other of those traitors that are with Jake Sully and the Nav'i. Here's what I want you to do to this betrayer when you believe you've reached a favourable location. The colonel passed him a small folded piece of paper with what I presumed to be my execution papers and orders on how to do it but I couldn't see what was written down I had no idea of what awaited me.
"Oh and just one more thing" grunted the chief of security. "Just to make absolutely sure he isn't going to get away let me make this easy for you." These were the last words I heard come out of Miles Quaritch before he picked up the huge wrench next to the tool cart and promptly shattering both my knee caps so that I wouldn't be able to stand before hitting me over the back of my head with it as well to a lesser degree of force causing me to blackout.
That was the last thing I saw in Hells Gate before my series of sporadic sessions of consciousness while being dragged thorough the undergrowth. We finally appeared in what appeared to be a natural clearing where there was a gap in the trees and the overhead canopy something that was very rare in this part of the continent where the jungles dominated the landscape. The fact the sun was high in the sky was the only thing my mind could handle at the current present in time telling me the useless information that it had been a few hours since my captors left with me as it had been dawn still when they set out from the base. They came to a stop deciding this was a good place for my gruesome death to occur. But how gruesome I couldn't imagine because when they pulled out the two folded metal poles with attachable joints from their backpacks I didn't figure out they were making a crucifix until they put them together also procured four nails from their pouches. In retrospect I shouldn't have been surprised this is the machination that a sick minded man like Quaritch would come up with seeing as he was so invested in the concept of mankind's Manifest Destiny it shouldn't have surprised me he was also an extremely fanatical christian. Don't get me wrong if I could have struggled I would of but after the ordeal and injuries that I had undergone I just didn't have the struggle in me when the two meatheads lifted me up into position for the sick message to any others traitor's that were out there. It's why I couldn't fight as I suffered each and every nail being drove into my weakened body my wrists and shins punctured and flaring indignantly before letting go leaving my bodies weight be supported by the spikes impaling me to their makeshift cross.
They stayed for a little while for that taking advantage of the situation and using me as a personal punching bag breaking a couple of ribs with their rifle buts before getting bored and heading back towards the colony before the sun went down and the nigh predators emerged and attracted by the scent of my fresh running blood. I was left there alone to die suffering but as my mind started to slip away for what I believed was the last time one last clear bastion of thought rung out through my head.
"I didn't regret my actions; in fact I'd do them again. I made my choices…"
Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed my rather dark fanfic I hope I didn't offend or upset anyone and I'm truly sorry if I did please review an leave me constructive criticism as this is one of my attempts at writing and I'd appreciated feedback, also tell me if you think I should leave it as a one shot and have the unnamed character die or continue this fanfic and have him maybe live I'll let you the reviews decide.