"Wakey, wakey. No rest for the wicked," Waking up to his chilling voice surprisingly wasn't the worst thing she had ever experienced; though, it was up there. Nikita attempted not to startle or push against her restraints, any thing that showed Brandt that he had gotten to her. Yet her body rebelled against her. She gasped, she looked around the basement in horror, and she flinched away from the man who had captured her. Her voice as she said his name was a lot cooler than she felt. At least she could cling to her bravado while fear gripped her every being. Whether that fooled Brandt or not, she had no idea. He simply smirked at her as he approached, "You remember me, good. We don't have to waste time catching up."
"What do you want?" She knew the answer to that. Nikita was well aware of why her mother was killed and why she was kidnapped. She just wanted to hear Brandt say it. She wanted an excuse to break her restraints and kill him. The horror of waking up kidnapped (God, how many times had that happened to her, at least five times right) shifted drastically into blinding rage. It was the same lividity that had been brewing inside of her since her mother had died. However, if she was being honest with herself, that anger had always been there, simmering steadily and waiting to explode out of her.
"What do I want? What I want is for the last five years not to have happened. Not to have been waterboarded, sleep deprived, horse whipped and humiliated on a daily basis. What I want is to have my life back. But I can't have that. So I guess I'll just have to settle for you," Everytime Brandt turned his back during his asinine villain's monologue, Nikita attempted to break through the restraints at her wrist. Maybe if she kept distracting him, she'd be free in no time. Then, she could kill the goddamn bastard and make him pay. Focusing on her revenge stopped her from overthinking her capture. It was simpler that way.
"Look, I know you're angry," How was she able to keep her voice so calm- even she had no idea. Maybe it was her self-preservation kicking in. Nikita could save herself long enough to enact her revenge. Wasn't that what she had been doing for the past few years. She moved mission to mission, never having a foothold on anything besides survival and revenge. That had to change; it wasn't healthy. Yet she couldn't let go of that fury. It had to be released. And her rage was currently locked on Brandt.
"Angry? No. Well, maybe the first year and the second," Another one of his rants was building. It was part of his reasoning for attacking her family and torturing her. Nikita fought an eye roll, focusing on her chains instead. She didn't care about what Brandt thought or felt. He was a psychotic bastard, whatever he had to say didn't matter. Anyone who hurt her family didn't deserve to speak or even breathe. But she had to keep him talking. The distraction worked wonders for her. She could survive it if it meant freedom.
"You have to know that I was following orders," When Brandt turned his attention back to her, Nikita played innocent. If she pleaded with him, he might look past her attempts of escape. She could pretend to beg, barter. It got him to talk, and it made her feel like she was in control; though, that was drastically untrue. As long as she was strapped to the metal bedframe, she didn't have any semblance of control. Yet the thought made her brave; it made her confident. She would need that to carry her through, despite the fact that it could be so easily broken.
"You see, after that a certain clarity came over me," Brandt kept going as if she never spoke. Nikita was fine with that. She thought she had the right restraint loose. She just had to shake the bolt just a little more and she'd be free. What the plan was after that, she had no idea. Obviously she had to kill Brandt- that went without saying. But getting out of wherever she was, returning to her team, continuing her war with Division, that remained a mystery. She was certain she could figure it out, even if just the thought of it all was daunting.
"The man that you are working for is responsible for what happened to you," Nikita was still talking to Brandt, yet the edge to her voice was directed at herself. Percy was responsible for everything that happened to her. He got her recruited, he put her on those missions, and he led to the death of her mother. Pure rage made her jerk against the bed frame. Both men would feel her wrath. She was going to bring them to their knees and make them as powerless as they had left her. Only after her revenge was met could she feel anything but that simmering anger.
"More of an understanding really than a revelation," God, did Brandt ever shut the fuck up. Obviously, she wasn't listening. Nikita had her own agenda. Since she had woken up in hell, it had been all about escape. Whether that hell was Division or that basement, her only drive was to get out of there and return to her loved ones. It certainly helped her not think about her current situation. She could be trapped forever- nowhere to go. She could die without her family ever knowing what had happened to her. She could leave her loved ones behind. Those thoughts were dangerous; they would drown her. She couldn't afford to let that happen.
How the hell else was she supposed to survive. No one knew where she was. She was alone against a psychopath that had no problem killing a United States Senator just to get to her. Nikita had done impossible before; she had been alone before. The only reason she made it to the next mission was because she was determined enough to ignore everything else. She couldn't let the shock of being kidnapped and tortured affect her. She had to shove it deep down, just like everything else, "Percy gave the order. I was doing a job. And now I'm working against the man that took you down. We have a mutual enemy. I hated what Percy made me do. I still do."
"No. No you did not. You enjoyed doing this to me. Just like I'm going to enjoy doing this to you. Feel free to scream, no one will hear you," Pointing to his clawed out eye, Brandt turned every ounce of fury on Nikita. Her bravado, confidence, and hatred melted back into fear as realization struck her. That torture would be so drastically different than anything else she had experienced. Her captor was quick to prove that to her, switching on the powerful electric current connected to the bedframe. She tried not to scream. Yet it tore out of her nonetheless. She was helpless. No amount of fighting could save her from that pain. There was no chance of escape.
"Don't tell me that's all you got. I was expecting so much more. Remember the first time I saw you? The club in São Paulo. You were wearing that purple dress, said you had too many mojitos. God, you were beautiful," She thought she had managed to escape by passing out. Yet Brandt woke her, continuing another monologue she couldn't stand. Nikita was done fighting, though. Hours of electrocution robbed her of her strength. But when she let go, her captor was there to snap her back, "Hey, stay with me. You know what helps? Pick a point in your mind, and you focus on it. Something that'll help keep you going. See, what really kept me going, was the thought of seeing you suffer. Of hearing you scream and beg for your life. You kept me alive."
She had had a point to focus on: it was to escape and kill. Except the hours of torture drained her. Her body didn't feel like her own- limbs shaky and head heavy. Jolts of electricity continued to rush through her, despite the current being switched off. Nikita knew she had to keep fighting, but she was losing the motivation. Wouldn't it be easier if she just quit, "The woman you knew was not me. I was under orders. I was forced to work for an agency that made me do terrible things."
"That must've been hard," Brandt couldn't care less about her defense. It wasn't as though clawing out his eye was a part of her orders. Nikita had done that of her own volition. Besides, he was abused for years by a government agency one way or another. Of course, he deserved to be in a CIA blacksite. He was an arms dealer that did so many atrocious things around the world. Yet he was still tortured mercilessly. Why would any excuse matter to him. He simply needed retribution.
Nikita shouldn't have been the one to pay that. She should've kept fighting. But, God, did it hurt so damn much. Tears pooled in her eyes, wanting to be spilled as some kind of pain relief. However, they wouldn't fall. Maybe because she was just so tired. She wanted it to stop- the torture, Brandt, memories of horrendous Division missions, the knowledge that she was a bringer of death, thoughts of her mother's murder filtering through her weakened mind. Yet it continued to torment her, kill her, "It's the truth! I hated what they made me do."
"Then why didn't you get out?" It was a fair question. She had eventually escaped, so why hadn't she earlier. That question had haunted Nikita before. She should've said 'no' to Division. She should've ran off before Daniel was murdered. She wouldn't have been able to return to her family. And she would've been on the run for the rest of her life. But that was better than what she was forced to do, wasn't it. Would spending her life in fear have been better than spending it as a monster, especially if it put others at risk. She honestly didn't know.
"I couldn't."
"You could've killed yourself. That would've been a way out. See, that's just it. You didn't really want to get out. You just don't admit it. But I know you, intimately. And I'm not talking about the sex, no. We shared something much more primal. I saw behind your lies and caught a glimpse of your true self. The woman who did this, that's who you are. The woman who did this and enjoyed it, that's the real Nikita," Brandt indicated his scarred eye again. It was evidence of who Nikita truly was, after all. She didn't want to give in to his statements, but maybe he was right. Maybe she really did belong at Division. That was where all the other monsters were. Why shouldn't she have been among them.
Deep down, she had always known that there was something wrong with her. She was different from her siblings. Not just because she was adopted, but because she was just so angry. Nikita told herself that she didn't escape when she should've because she had to protect her family- Division wouldn't hesitate to hurt them to get to her. Yet it was more than that. She fit in better with her fellow recruits. The missions she was forced on also gave her the chance to embrace that lividity within her. It was only one more thing she hated about that hellhole, however. And it was one more thing she hated about herself, "Just kill me and get it over with."
"No. I'm not going to kill you for a very long time. I suffered for five long years. You think I'd cheat you out of one second of that? Just relax. You're in for the long haul," As Brandt moved to electrocute her once again, Nikita felt the tears begin to fall. She really did just want him to kill her. Death would've been a sense of relief to the pain flooding her system. That hurt wasn't born from the electricity, however. It was the thoughts of monsters, and gunshots, and drowning in lakes, and carbombs. So much death had occurred because of her. She had to join them. It was the only way she could pay for all her sins.
Time was harder to comprehend with that round of electrocution. It could've been a couple minutes, several hours, or maybe even a day. All Nikita was aware of was the excruciating agony. She couldn't scream anymore, it hurt that badly. By the time it finally stopped, all that was left of her was a husk. She was empty, nothing remained but that something else she had been fighting ever since her mother died. It quickly replaced her, taking control of her thoughts and emotions. That was what muttered to Brandt. That was the thing to draw him in before it struck, "I'm sorry that I didn't take out your other eye. And if I'd known you would be talking me to death, I would have cut out your tongue too. So turn it up. Last one tickled a little."
"You are going to beg me for death," That was the first thing Nikita had said that truly affected Brandt. He had had the control up until then, no doubt about it. But she managed to rip it away from him at that moment. A smirk etched it's way across her features. She might not have been able to open her eyes completely, yet she could still allow the smugness to wash over. It felt far better than the pain and the fear. She should've let her darkness and fury control her a long time ago. For once, hurt didn't consume her- only a sense of power.
"Like you did with the CIA? What's the matter? They hurt the poor little psychopath?" Believing she spotted tears in Brandt's eyes as a result of her insults, Nikita dug it in just a little further. That earned her a forceful strike to her abdomen. Yet after the initial grunt of pain, she was able to laugh it off. The chuckles were not her own, however. They were so much darker, a reflection of the monster she let take over. Her smirk never faltered. She was fueled by her evilness, "I'm going to tell you something I've never told anyone. I regretted most of my missions for Division. But not all. Not yours. You're right, I enjoyed hurting you."
"Bitch!"
"What's wrong? You wanted to get real, let's do it. The person who beat you in that room is someone I pretend isn't there. Someone I lock deep, deep down inside and never show the people I love. Because if they knew the truth, they'd hate me. But here, in this hole, we can be honest, right? So come on. You and I can spend all of eternity down here hurting each other. We deserve it," The restraints at Nikita's wrist had lost their importance. Escape wasn't the priority at the moment. She was going to enjoy hurting Brandt before she killed him. The torment he had received from the CIA would pale in comparison to her. She'd tear him apart with her teeth before she tore him apart with her hands. She had the time and the patience to do so. After all, the monster inside her had waited that long to be fully unleashed. What was a few more hours.