New Story; please read and review :) This is a 'test' chapter to see how people like this story, it's been playing out in my head for days and I'm glad I finally got it out of my system.
Unfamiliar Ceilings: Chapter One
The Lost Twin
In an abandoned warehouse, in some god-forsaken desert, near some pathetic little town, a woman was slumped over in her chair with her hands tied behind her back. Her body bore the obvious marks of torture and her captors did not look finished or pleased.
"Do we have a lead yet?"
"Syke White keeps drawing up blanks. It's like she doesn't actually exist. I've got a lead on another name that I came on by chance, probably turn out to be another fucking dead end though. The name was buried under so much logistical crap that I thought I was going to down in it." He man was tired and could feel the stifling heat and he was consequently very irritated.
"Any lead could prove to be a good lead. And it's better than what we've got here. I'm beginning to think its shit impossible for us to get anything out of her. This chick's bloody crazy I tell you!"
"Have you tried that? The little Princess' body doesn't look like it could handle that."
"Of course of tried that! I've tried fucking everything! You know she barely screams? I shoved goddamn needles under her nails and she fucking winces!"
"I think you're in love," replies the man with a sarcastic smile.
"Go screw yourself." The man laughs in reply and shakes his head mockingly, but then he turns serious.
"If see doesn't talk before the big guys get here, we'll be the ones tied to the chair; not only that, but I'm certain they cut us up and throw us to the little fishies for good measure."
The man's eyes meet the torturer's eyes and they are in cold, fearful agreement. The girl must break.
The torturer picks his tools, remembers the beautiful pregnant woman he left at home and wishes he were someone else. But he knows he is not and that it is too late for him to be anyone else now. Before he opens the rusty steel doors, he closes his eyes while he sighs a prayer and begs forgiveness from the God he has long forsaken. A ray of light from behind him hits the woman in the chair and he begins to work.
In another room, the man stares anxiously at the giant computer screen and watches it file through hundreds of thousands of names. He bites his thumb in nervous anticipation and continues to observe the rapidly moving screen. The computer freezes on a name and the man is temporally paralysed with excitement. "Katherine Winchester" flashes across the monitor.
Three days later, the torturer has made no progress and has heard her whimper only once. His creativity is near at its limits and he does not know what to do. He hopes the man has succeeded with his lead. Four days later, a well-dressed young man runs in and stops only momentarily to straighten his wrinkled suit before handing over the file he was clutching precariously to his chest.
"We found two living relatives; Dean and Samuel Winchester."
The man is ecstatic and asks; "relation?"
The young man, now looking well pleased with himself, replies "Dean Winchester, younger twin brother, age: 29, DOB; January 24th 1979 and Samuel Winchester, younger brother, age: 25, DOB; May 2nd 1983."
"That's nice," the man sneered, "but we ain't going to be throwing these boys a fucking party soon, so all that crap regarding their birthdays was not necessary. Remember not to waste my time with trivia bullshit, lest it hasten me to my grave."
The young man paled considerably and adjusting his neck tie weakly muttered a "yes, sir."
The man walked into the room where the torturer stood in awe by the amount of injury a petite 29 year old could sustain and still have enough will to walk among the living.
"We have two brothers, one's a twin. According to this file it doesn't seem like they've had much contact in the last 10 or so years. Will they be enough leverage to break her?"
"With her line of work, anyone would keep their distance from there loved ones. They should work; just give me a heads up before bringing them in, so I can, uh, soften her up a bit, before the grand reunion." The torturer's voice took on an eerily overly-dramatic tone as he finished is sentence and the man felt shivers run down his spine.
He walked out of the dismal excuse for a room and was glad he was neither the torturer nor the victim. Although he had learnt to keep his eyes trained on the torturer, curiosity always forced his eyes to wander and the sight of the girl's wretched body was enough to make him convulse, never mind the repulsive smell lingering on the walls. He had seen a lot in his line of work and he had never seen the torturer inflict this much damage before, normally the victim relented. They had worked together for a long time and the man knew with a chilling certainty that his friend knew just how to break a person.
The man's Italian shoes contrasted with the wretched state of the floor and he knew that the expensive shoes would reek of whatever the brown sludge on the floor was, but he cared only a little. He had an urgent matter to attend to.
"Find these Winchester boys; looks like my friend wants to throw them a little reunion party."
Please leave a comment, it will help me decide if this story is worth continuing or if I should employ better use of my time :/