Jack drew breath into his mighty lungs, stretching his muscles upwards as he sat upright in his chair, before he calmly continued his search for the answers he wanted from Abigail William's breath.
A small light hung from the ceiling, shedding inefficient light upon the brown table, and in particular upon the photograph which lay upon its surface.
Its white edges were lit up brightly, blinding Abigail's eyes in this dark and gloomy room.
"I don't care," Abigail said, feeling nothing but cold spread through her chained arm.
She pointlessly rattled the metal of the cuff softly against the metal leg of the chair she was chained to, over and over again, like the endless ticking of a clock.
"Kill me," Abigail said. "I don't care."
She gazed upwards at Jack with hollow eyes and dry lips as her curled blonde and untidy hair fell across one half side of her face.
She was sniffling, but no tears came.
There was no more energy, only pain.
"Kill me!" she cried, finally shedding tears which she forced out of their sockets.
The tears landed on the wooden table, tainting the white edges of the photograph of her dead lover.
"This'll all end," Jack said. "Just tell me what I need to know."
Abigail cried, before unleashing her fury upon the whatever papers lay on the table at that moment.
She wiped files and Joseph's photograph from the table, which now scattered into the air, using her free hand.
She never even once thought of attacking Jack and by any means get out of this cell.
She knew she couldn't take him on.
She was too feeble.
Too weak.
Her cries echoed through the small chamber, haunting the shadows with every ghastly wail, but Jack remained perfectly still and calm.
"I don't care!" she said, trembling on her very feet. "All I want is Joseph! I want Joe back! And I know you have him!"
Jack subtly raised his chin to look her in the eyes, but he didn't give, nor did he give Abby any reason to suspect he was feeling any emotion at that time.
"I saw you!" Abigail cried as she sat down on the edge of her seat.
She could feel the cold metal of the chair through the fabric of her clothing.
"You were with him! I recognise you now! I saw you as clearly as I see you now!"
"Abigail!" Jack spoke loudly, trying to catch her attention, but she wasn't done.
"What have you done to him? Why can't I see him? Tell me where he is! Let me see him! I want to see him now!"
"Abigail," Jack said, pounding the table with his fist.
His piercing eyes gazed through Abigail's very soul.
"The man you know as Joseph Harvey Milton," he said. "is dead."
Abigail wailed, and she moved her body up and down with closed eyes, tilting her head around in circles as she tried to forget what was just said.
Her jaws were clenched together in pure agony and rage as her face slowly turned red in anguish.
"No!" she cried, and she kept on muttering it even when she didn't want to. "You're lying! Why are you doing this?"
It didn't happen.
He didn't die.
He is alive, and she knew it.
"Abigail!" Jack said. "I need your help!"
Abigail looked at him, and she opened her eyes softly.
"I need to know where Joe's brother might be. Ben Milton? Do you remember Ben?"
Then Abigail smiled.
"I know what this is," she said. "This is a cover-up!"
Jack tried to make her stop, but she wouldn't listen.
"This entire thing is a conspiracy! One big cover-up and no-one can know what really happened ! But I do! I know what really happened! I was there! I saw how he stepped out of his own coffin, alive and well, after being pronounced dead two days before!"
As Abigail went on, Jack suddenly stood up from his chair and grabbed the wooden table with two hands and flipped it across the room against the dark wall.
"Now you listen to me!" he yelled in her face as he got up close. "I make the rules down here! I'm asking the questions and you're giving me the answers! Is that clear?"
Abigail had her eyes firmly shut as she faced away from the enraged captain, who intimidated her with deadly success.
She was shivering and sweating on her metal seat.
Jack got even closer as he bend over to look her in the eyes.
"Was Joseph involved in any way with John Lumic?" Jack asked.
Before Abigail could ask 'what?' Jack already started yelling.
"Tell me!"
"John Lumic is his uncle," Abigail said. "Joe used to help him out with special projects. Joe was like a son to him!"
"That wasn't what I asked!" Jack said as he slowly started circling her chair.
He glanced up at the camera before he went on.
"You can't do this to me!" Abigail cried. "I have rights! This isn't Guantanamo Bay!"
"You have no idea what this is, Miss Williams!" Jack spoke. "Start talking!"
She yelled and cried.
"What does Lumic have to do with any of this?" she cried.
"You don't want to know!" Jack said. "Now tell me!"
"John and Joe hadn't spoken to each other in over five years!" Abigail said.
Jack calmed down.
"I think he visited him a few times, but that's it!" she said.
"Where?" Jack asked.
"In prison!" Abigail said. "Joseph was sent to prison for a crime he didn't commit! He was innocent!"
And when he finally got out he was murdered in the dead of night.
"And what about his brother?" Jack asked. "Has he been doing Joseph's little chores whilst he was doing time? He probably has lots of money and nobody knows where he got it from, am I right?"
"I don't know…" Abigail said.
"Where is he now, Abby?" Jack said. "Where is Ben Milton?"
"I don't know!" she said.
She started crying, and Jack finally knew it was time to back down.
He sighed, turned around and looked up at the camera.
"Tell Ianto to bring her back to her cell," he said before looking down upon the crying woman again, without any sign of remorse in his heart.
Clouds were moving in front of the sun on a day which never seemed to stop being sunny.
Now the sky grew darker as the daylight reached its end.
Rhys Williams drove into the heart of the city, cautious concerning the traffic surrounding him, because of the thoughts which kept on distracting him from the present reality.
"Come on!" he yelled frustratingly at another traffic light which turned red.
Pedestrians walked past the hood of his car and didn't even bother to glance at him as he sat there pining for a green light.
Day turned finally into dusk as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon fully.
Rhys drove onwards through the streets of Cardiff, where the street lights turned on, and in his mind he prepared himself for the worst moment in his life.
Angry at himself he slammed the top of the wheel with the back of his hand.
Conflicted, and lost in thoughts he nearly forgot to brake at another traffic light.
He sighed as his vehicle stopped right before the white line.
He looked into the rear-view mirror and gazed angrily at the reflection of his own eyes, before quickly checking if his hair looked all right.
The day had grown darker and darker by the minute, but it would grow darker.
Lost in earthly concerns, Rhys could not even begin to understand what danger lay in the moving shadows which he could barely see shifting in the corners of his eyes.
It was right there, unseen by human eyes as the darkness grew denser, only to be penetrated by artificial light.
Someone, somewhere, was screaming at the newborn night in terror and approaching death, but Rhys did not know any of this, nor did he even suspect the shadows of hiding such evil beings in the dawn of night, but lucky enough they did not know of Rhys Williams.
Rhys put his foot down and drove off to find a proper place to park, as a man in a black cloak and hood sat crouched on the edge of a roof, looking down on humanly Earth, obscured by shadow.
He held his long and rusty scythe in his hands as he slowly got up.
More hooded figures joined his side, as they merged with the night and disappeared into oblivion, only to watch onwards upon this Earthly soil, with the eyes of vultures, waiting for the scent of their prey and the beckoning fires of their destination.
They only knew it to be hidden within the Earth's soil, buried deep down where only the anointed ones would dwell, the guardians of the Rift, the knights of Torchwood.
They were watching…