Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or the character. I only own Haidar, Kadar, and the knife.
A/N: ok so I have been writing this story for a few weeks now and I really hope you all enjoy this story.
WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS VIOLENCE. IF YOU DO NOT LIKE IT I WILL NOT BE OFFENDED IF YOU DO NOT READ IT.
JUNE
This place is hell, or the closest thing to it. It feels like I have been here forever when really it has only been a month or two. I am not sure how much longer I can last. Saleem comes in everyday to try and figure out who I am. I have been able to keep quiet through all the torture but I am near my breaking point.
The familiar sound of heavy footsteps is getting closer to my cell and the closer they get the tenser my body becomes. The door opens and Saleem walks in cigarette in hand. I do not want to think about what new form of pain he has learned how to inflict in the last 24 hours. He has already burned my skin with a torch, sliced my skin with all different types of knives, whipped my back with leather, and other things that I can still feel the pain from.
"Are you ready to talk?" he asks this question everyday when he walks in. like every other day I stay silent. I cannot betray my family.
"Stubborn as always I see. You know I really hope you get over this stubbornness of yours. Cause I have a feeling you and I could be great friends someday." He leans down in my face. His breath reeks of cigarette smoke.
"It's a shame that I can't call you by name-"
"Shut up, we will never be friends. You are a sick disgusting pig and I want nothing to do with you!" I yell cutting him off just so I do not have to hear his voice.
"I'm hurt, I know we have had our rocky past but I thought we were starting to get along." I am not sure why he has not hit me yet. Every time I have even tried to talk to him I am normally slapped or punched before I finish. He is acting like he is a nice guy. It could be possible he is using the torture that messes with the mind. It does make sense he has been awful to me every day and now that I am broken he is being nice. But what Saleem does not know is that I am aware of what he is up to.
"Now, I would really appreciate it if you would be so kind to tell me your name. I hate not being able to call someone I care for by their name. So what is it princess?" he asks placing his hands on my thighs. I notice the cigarette is placed directly over a hole that has formed in my pants from the struggle. I have been burned before it's one of his favorite forms of torture.
"Nothing? Fine I'll have to go back to the normal way of making people talk. Believe me I will make you talk." He presses the lit end of the cigarette onto the skin of my thigh. I flinch at the contact of the burning stick against me. My skin is on fire and it is almost like the torch just in a smaller area. His cigarette stops burning but the pain in my thigh does not. He stands back up and drops his cigarette to the ground and stomps on it. I can feel the scream riding up my throat. Now that the burn is open to the air the pain is ten times worse than when it was pressed against me.
"I have something else for you. Sit tight." He commands as if I can go anywhere. He walks out of the room and slams the door. I look down at the small circular burn on my thigh. I can see the ash in the wound. I can hear him coming back but I keep my eyes fixated on the small circle that is causing me so much pain.
"Now, this I was hoping to save for later, but I have a feeling nothing else will get you to talk." He says pulling out a long metal pole that is curved into the letter S at the end. The S is glowing an orange color. He walks closer to me and grabs my hair. A gasp escapes my mouth realizing he is really going to brand me like some kind of animal.
Another man walks into the room and begins to untie my restraints. I do not have enough strength to fight him and Saleem. I am powerless at the moment.
"Hold her." Saleem demands. The man pushes me down to the ground and holds my wrists as he sits on my legs. Saleem pulls out a knife and cuts a small slit in the waist band of my pants. He pulls down the flaps exposing my hip. I struggle to get away but the man on my legs holds me down with so much force it feels like my legs are going to shatter. This is it; I am going to be marked forever. He presses the small S onto the skin of my hip.
"My name is Ziva!" I cannot help the scream that comes out of my mouth the second the tool touches my skin. The pain is worse than anything I have endured so far. Saleem is smiling a sickening smile at me as he holds the S against me.
"See…that wasn't so hard. Now tell me what you know." He demands taking the S off my hip. My name is one thing, but my friends and family are another. Gibbs, McGee, Abby,…Tony, all of them are family and no matter what happens to me I will never betray them by giving information on them.
"Come on Ziva, you were doing so well." He taunts. The way he says my name sends shivers all the way down my spine.
"You are lucky you got my name, you son of a…-" that small S is once again pressed against my skin in the exact same spot as before. The pain continues to get worse and worse. I bite my lip holding back the screams I want so badly to release. Mossad agents do not scream, we show no emotion to anyone, we have to shut down everything. That is what we are trained to do. I try and try to do as I was taught but no matter how hard I try I cannot seem to break away from feeling the pain.
"Still stubborn… I have to wonder how much you can take before you will break." He says smiling. He leans his face closer to mine.
"I guess we will just have to find out." He whispers into my ear. He presses the stick harder into my skin to make sure that it leaves a permanent mark. I will now for ever be his. I try to wiggle out from under the man on top of me but it's no use. I am too weak and in too much pain to fight. He finally takes it off my skin and stands back up and orders the man to leave.
"You are pathetic." He spits on my face and I reach up to wipe it off my cheek he smashes his foot into my ribs. I forget about the spit and place my hands over my ribs. I bite my lip again and I can taste the blood in my mouth. I can't scream, not for them it will only leave them feeling satisfied. I roll onto my side to try and distract myself from the pain. He slams hit foot down crushing my ribs under his weight. His foot is atop of my hands and I can feel a few of ribs break when his foot connects with them. His hand is on my shoulder and he's rolling me onto my back. He grabs my hair and pulls it so my head is in the air.
"Why won't you scream for me? It must get tiring holding back all those screams, all the pain. You can let it out. It might make you feel better. It will defiantly help me to know that I am doing my job correctly. But the more you don't scream the worse it gets." He says leaning close to my face. I do not say anything because if I open my mouth I am afraid that nothing but a scream will come out of it. He moves my hands off of my ribs and places his hand over top of them.
"Tell me what you know Ziva," he says in a hushed voice. I try to concentrate on everything but his hand on my broken ribs. I stay silent not caring what he does. He applies a tiny bit of pressure. Even the slightest bit of pressure with broken ribs can feel like there is a 3 ton truck crushing you. I bite my lip once again.
"Come on Ziva, how about a last name?" he asks applying a bit more pressure. I cannot give him my last name because if he finds out who my father is then I will be getting a lot worse than a few broken ribs.
"I know you work for Mossad. I had my men look it up. But sadly your last name was not there. So are you going to tell me or not?" he asks pressing down harder. I try not scream and answer him at the time. I do not understand it how can he know I am from Mossad. There should be no record of the agents anywhere, I cannot be possible.
"I guess not. Well I hate to do this but…" he presses all his body weight down on my ribs and I can feel and hear my ribs crack even more. The sound that comes out of my mouth is excruciating. He stands back up and spits on my face again.
"You are stronger than I thought. Normally I have people begging me to stop and they are spilling their guts out to get me to stop. But you, you are different than the others. You set up a challenge for me and my men. So thank you, we have not had a challenge this difficult in a while it's just what we need right now. My men are getting impatient. They really want to have some fun with you. I have held them back until now. It seems this is the next thing I can do to you.
"Haidar! Kadar!" he calls out. Two gigantic men walk in through the door. They both have to be at least 6 foot 7 if not taller. One had short dark hair while the other has long shaggy jet black hair. By the looks of it if they get any more muscle they will burst. I defiantly cannot fight these men. If I do I will surely die. Maybe that's a good thing, maybe I should fight them.
"Show Ziva here what we do when we have a challenge that it is hard to beat. She needs some reminding of who she is dealing with." Saleem orders and the two men grow smirks on their faces when they look at me. I have seen these men before. They visited me when I first got captured. I never learned who was Haidar and who was Kadar, but all I know is that these men like knives.
"Take her." Saleem demands walking behind me and picking me up by my hair. He throws me into one of them and he holds me tightly, crushing me to his body.
"I almost forgot how pretty you are. But I didn't forget how pretty your screams are." He grins looking down at me sickeningly.
"My knives have missed you Jew." He says carrying me to another room I am very familiar with. The other man follows while Saleem closes my cell door and walks away.
Inside the room there is a metal table with straps laying over it. The table is stained with blood and other things which I do not want to think about. He carries me over to the table and lays me down. They strap my arms down by my sides and my legs are slightly apart.
"Haidar, which one you want?" So Haidar is the one with jet black. He carried me here. He is the one who causes the most pain.
"The new one," he answers his partner. He hands him a knife that I have never seen before. The shape was like a Zigzag shape. The one edge was smooth while the other was serrated.
"This knife is one of my favorites. Its odd shape is to cause excruciating pain. The different edges allow me to do different things. The smooth edge slices the skin. This edge is so sharp that some people say they can't even feel the incision. The serrated edge rips the skin. It tears the skin to shreds." He explains the process of each part of the knife. He approaches the table running his hand along the flat of the knife.
"I have been saving this for you my dear. I have a feeling I am going to enjoy this very much." He says laying the flat surface on my arm. He runs it up and down my arm trying to taunt me. He angles the smooth edge down into my arm and I can feel the knife already slice into my skin. As he pulls it across my arm I do not feel a thing. I only see the blood running down my arm and onto the table.
"So I guess you can't feel it. Well how about this one?" it's not really a question. He digs the serrated edge into my skin and pulls it across my forearm. As he rips the edge through my skin I feel every tiny spike rip my skin apart. As I close my eyes to hold back any sound that wants to come out I feel the flat of the blade on my thigh. He goes through the same process as he did on my arm. He repeats his actions on my leg in three different places. He moves back up to my after the second he is done working on my leg.
He sticks the tip of the blade into my shoulder. The zigzag pattern is slicing into me and making the cut even bigger. He slowly begins to slide the blade down to my elbow. The slice is deep and he rips the knife out violently to cause more pain.
He put the blade down and wipes off his hands with a towel.
"Well, I'm sure you will feel all of those in the morning." He tells me untying my restraints. He grabs my sliced arm and drags me back to my cell and leaves. Kadar walks into the room and closes the door.
"You are lucky I didn't get a chance to have fun with you." He says walking over to me. I back away from him but he keeps walking closer. I keep backing up until my back is in contact with the wall.
"Don't be scared, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just letting you know how lucky you are." He tells me as he stands inches away from me.
"But don't worry too much, we'll have our fun." He leans in quickly to press his lips against mine, as he tries to stick his tongue on my mouth I bite it. I can taste his blood in my mouth. He yelps and holds his mouth staring at me in disbelief. He slaps his hand across my face and then leaves. I slide down the wall and as badly as I want to curl my knees up to my chest I cannot. I can barely reposition myself with all the pain surging through my chest and the rest of my body. So I sit with my legs stretch out and my back against the wall inert and in pain.
I hate when they do that. This is not the first time I have been kissed by these men. Saleem was the first and he's the most frequent. After Saleem kissed me the first time all his men decided I was free game.
I have a disgusting taste of ash in my mouth from his kiss. It happens every time one of them kisses me. They smoke so much the ashy taste and smell is permanent. I really hope they do not come back anytime soon, I do not think my body can take much more. The bleeding from my cuts has not stopped and by the looks of it I do not think they will anytime soon.
A/N: Ok, so please review and I will post the next chapter (the next month). The whole time I have been writing this I have been thinking to myself there is something wrong with me for thinking of stuff like this. But then I realize there a lot of stories out there kind of like this. So it made me feel a little better. So if you liked my story please review. I have part of the second chapter already written out I just need reviews please !