Chapter Seven

Three people were in the basement: Mitchell, just starting to wake up and realise just what situation he was in, Michelle, as the living lie detector, and Kar, as Rogue's bodyguard. Or, perhaps more specifically, Mitchell's bodyguard.

Rogue took a deep breath and forced herself into calmness before descending into the basement. She would not lose control. She would not hurt her prisoner unnecessarily. She would question him coolly and efficiently. She would remain detached and focused. Yeah, right.

Rogue stared at Mitchell with dispassionate eyes, waiting patiently for him to regain full consciousness. It didn't take long, and he blinked blearily before raising his head and looking around. His eyes fell on Rogue and widened slightly.

"I have questions, Mitchell," Rogue said quietly, "And you are going to answer them. No lying, because Michelle over there will sense it and I will hurt you. Try to escape, and I will stop you and hurt you. Insult or threaten me or anyone in this room and I will hurt you. Mention our first meeting and I will REALLY hurt you. These are the terms of your imprisonment and they are non-negotiable. If you argue with any of these terms, just remember: we only need you alive and speaking. Everything else is gravy."

Mitchell glared at her, but couldn't quite hide the hint of fear in his eyes. "I'm not saying a fucking word."

"Oh, you really are. See, I'm pretty much a sociopath, okay? Courtesy of, well, pretty much you, and some other bad shit that I've seen. So, this is how it's gonna work. I ask, you answer. I ask and you don't answer, and you get hurt. And in case you're wondering how I'm going to hurt you, that's what we have these for." Smiling grimly, Rogue yanked the cover off a large tray next to the chair, revealing numerous medical instruments and other things. There was a sleek black paddle, a coiled whip with tiny metal barbs, a poker that would be heated up later, numerous knives and daggers, two guns, a stun-baton, and various vials filled with different drugs.

Rogue picked up one of the vials and held it lightly in her hands. "Now, we could just use this truth serum we've concocted in our nice little lab here, but it has some rather nasty side affects that could get in the way, namely it will make your tongue swell up so bad you won't be able to speak. So, first question, where is your base located?"

"Fuck you!"

Rogue backhanded him, and then knelt down in front of him. "I'm not in a good mood, Mitchell. I am very, very close to losing my temper and ripping you to shreds with my bare hands. So I suggest you co-operate."

"I'm not saying a word," he repeated quietly, glaring into her eyes. Rogue stood up.

"Kar, would you please help me untie him? I want him hung from the ceiling."

"Yes, ma'am."

Ten minutes later, Mitchell was dangling from the ceiling in his boxers. Rogue picked up a scalpel and drew it across his chest, not quite hard enough to draw blood.

"Now, I'm going to ask again: where is your base?"

"When I get free I am going to do to you what I did last time. I am going to-"

Rogue made one quick slice down his chest and he screamed as blood welled up and dribbled down his abdomen, gleaming cherry-read in the harsh fluorescent lighting.

"I warned you," Rogue said quietly. "One more word about that incident and I will do much worse. Now, where is your home base?"

"When I get free I am going to do to you disgusting freaks what should have been done much sooner. I am going to kill you all like dogs!"

"That was a threat, Colonel, and that's against the rules." Rogue made another slice, parallel to the first. "So, are you going to answer the question now?"

"Never!"

"Your decision," Rogue shrugged, and made another cut, this time horizontal and going through the other two, just above his nipples. He screamed again, jerking at the chains that held him. "Where is your base, Colonel?"

"You filthy little slut!"

Another slice, this time just above his belly button, making a grid of cuts. "Do you really want me to play noughts and crosses on your chest, Mitchell? Where is your base?"

Mitchell was panting, trying to think through the pain, but stubbornly refusing to break. "I-I am going to-to have you… beg me… again… and then I am… going to… aaahhh!"

Rogue had cut a deep cross in the upper right corner of the grid. "Hm, Kar, it's your turn. Where do you want to go?"

Kar swallowed, but answered in a steady voice, "Bottom left corner."

"Alright. Mitchell, where is your base?"

"You disgusting freak, you… shoulda been… drowned at… birth!"

Rogue cut a large circle in the bottom right corner, and listened to her victim scream. Some distant part of her mind thought absently that she should feel bad about torturing someone, but it was just a quiet whisper. She hadn't been lying when she said she was a sociopath. At sometime in the future, she might have nightmares about this incident, but they would be forgotten in the light of day, because it was necessary, and she would do it again if she had to.

"I think a different question is in order, just for variety. How many mutants do you have captured?"

"Not… enough."

Rogue cut a cross into the centre square. "Kar, your move."

"Um, middle left."

"Okay. Mitchell, how many mutants do you have captured?"

"I'm not… telling you… anything!"

Rogue shrugged and cut another circle into his chest. She noted that his chest was so covered in blood it was hard to tell where the cuts were, and grabbed a wet cloth from the tray to wipe at his chest. The cloth had been dipped in salt water, so Mitchell screamed again as the salt touched his wounds.

"How many mutants do you have captured?" she repeated in that deadly quiet voice, the Southern accent that Kar used to find attractive now making her words sound obscene.

Kar was having serious trouble keeping a blank face as he watched Rogue uncaringly cut into someone's skin, but knew that any sign of weakness would not help. Later, he would throw up and scream and curse, but for now, he had to just watch. He thought absently that he was becoming very… cold. He wasn't quite the sociopath that Rogue was, but this level of harsh violence didn't upset him as much as it used to. That was a very troubling thought.

Kar was snapped out of his musings as Rogue cut another cross into Mitchell's chest, in the middle bottom square. She asked for his move, and he told her middle right. She asked Mitchell the question again, got another insult in response, and cut another circle.

She asked again, got denied an answer, and cut a cross in the top middle, making it three in a row. Still smiling that grim smile, she drew the scalpel down his chest, running it through the three crosses.

Mitchell screamed, straining against the chains. Sweat beaded his forehead, and blood dripped onto the ground in a steady rhythm. His abdomen was a mask of red, shining brightly in the lights.

Rogue pressed the flat side of the scalpel against one of the crosses, coating it in blood, and then held it against his cheek.

"One more time, Mitchell, how many mutants do you have captured?"

A broken, sobbing sound escaped his throat, and Rogue knew that he had started to break. "Twenty-six."

Rogue glanced at Michelle, and the blonde nodded. Rogue didn't notice how she had one hand pressed to her stomach, or that her skin was unnaturally pale and her eyes too bright. She turned back to Mitchell, pleased to see him trembling in his bonds.

"Good boy. Now, shall we go back to our original question? Where is you base?"

"I won't… dammit, you can do what you want to me, but I won't tell you that."

"We'll see. Let's try an easier question. How are you preventing the mutants from escaping?"

"No…" The protest was weak and feeble, and he closed his eyes against the pain he knew was coming. He wasn't disappointed, and he screamed when he felt Rogue draw the scalpel slowly down his back.

"Try again, Colonel."

"…. We use… power restric… restrictors… on the cells…"

"Good boy. Do you torture the mutants?"

"… Yes."

"Do you rape them?"

She got no answer, which was answer enough, but she still drew a long cut down his back. "Do you rape them?"

"… Yes."

"You captured Jean Grey. She was supposed to be dead. Explain."

"No." This time the answer was firm and strong.

Rogue frowned when she saw that the bleeding from the cuts on his chest had already started to slow. He should not have been healing that fast.

"Michelle, is this git human?" she asked, not taking her eyes off Mitchell.

"Yes, but… something's different inside him. It's not the X-Gene, but he's done something to his body."

"Hm. Question for later. Back to Jean, I want all the details."

"No!"

Rogue put the bloody scalpel back on the tray and debated on what to use, before finally picking up the whip. She uncoiled it and let him see how the light glinted off the metal barbs before walking around to his back. She measured the distance, swung back, and then snapped the whip. The metal barbs dug into his skin, tearing at the flesh, and the whip cut the skin, leaving an angry red line behind. Mitchell screamed, hands clenching around the chains.

"Wrong answer. Tell me everything about Jean."

"No!"

Rogue whipped him twice more, not giving him a respite between the lashes. Small droplets of blood splashed against her skin from the metal barbs, but she didn't care or even notice. She wanted answers and she was going to get them, whatever she had to do.

"Tell me about Jean."

"Fuck… you."

Rogue lashed him three more times with the whip, ignoring his screams and whimpers, and then pressed close to his ruined back, putting her mouth next to his ear.

"Jean was my friend, you bastard," she whispered. "She was actually my best friend, and I saw what you did to her. You took away my entire family, dammit, and you took something from me, too. So I am going to hurt you, because I really want to. Answer my questions quickly, and the pain will be less. Piss me off, and I will really start to get creative. Now, one more time, tell me about Jean."

He whimpered again and told her how they had captured her, drugged her into unconsciousness. They had held her in a cell and told the world that she was dead, killing a nameless redhead for proof. They had thought she would be the one to bring about their dream, but had to work hard to control her. She was strong, and it was months before they were able to broke her. Even so, she killed two doctors and maimed seven, causing other minor injuries to just about everyone. She had screamed until the end that they would be stopped, that she knew the strongest, bravest X-Man was still out there, and that she would hunt them down and stop them. She had screamed that while Rogue might not save her personally, she would save every other mutant.

A tear rolled down Rogue's cheek, mingling with the blood, and she screamed in fury as she lashed at his back repeatedly with the whip, the barbs digging and clawing through his skin. By the time she was finished, small chunks of flesh were missing from his back, lying on the ground amidst a rapidly growing pool of blood.

She would have kept whipping him, anything to keep the pain and sorrow out of her mind, out of her heart, but Kar grabbed her wrist, tiny sparks of electricity jumping from his skin to hers.

"Cool it, Rogue!" he snapped, and she glared at him, ready to hurt him for stopping her torture, but then his eyes softened, and he brushed away the tear on her cheek. "You need to calm down to do this properly," he added quietly, and she let out a breath.

"Right. Sorry."

Kar nodded and moved back to where he had been standing. Rogue looked at Mitchell's back and decided to leave it alone for now. The man himself was still whimpering and sobbing, twisting futilely in his bonds.

"Have you captured any other X-Men?" Rogue asked in a voice that wasn't so much quiet as it was… empty.

"…. Yes."

Something twisted in Rogue's gut, something that wasn't fear or anger, but something else, or maybe a combination of both. "Who?"

"Ma… Magma."

Rogue felt bile rise in her throat at the thought of sweet, innocent Amara being tortured by those bastards, and her grip tightened on the whip, but she controlled herself with an effort.

"What have you done to her?"

"I… I won't…"

Rogue left the whip on the ground and picked up the black paddle. She hefted it, testing its weight, and then slapped his ravaged back with it, putting all her strength behind it. He screamed and thrashed again, and Rogue waited patiently for him to calm down.

"What have you done to her?"

"We… drugged… cut… sense dep… deprivation…"

"Has she broken?"

"…. Yes."

"How long have you had her?"

"A year."

"How long did it take you to break her?"

"Two… two weeks."

"Why haven't you released her?"

"She… Grey hated… seeing her hurt… we used her… to hurt Grey."

That earned him another slap with the paddle, and Rogue thought she should be proud that she restrained herself so much. Hurting Jean by torturing Amara… that was just plain sick. There was no excuse for that.

Rogue wasn't smiling grimly anymore, though that wasn't really a good thing. Her face was completely expressionless, unless you looked into her eyes. Her eyes were filled with a storm of emotion-rage, hatred, disgust, shame, horror, and many other things.

Kar glanced once into those terrifying eyes and shuddered before quickly looking away.

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The Dark Roses tried to ignore the screams coming from the basement, tried to stop themselves imagining what was happening, but it didn't really work. They were gathered in the living room, sitting around in silence.

Alistor was hugging Jamie, who actually looked scared. The newest recruit looked very unsure, but also strangely satisfied. Envee looked scared and a little sick, and she was hugging her knees tightly to her chest, trying to hide the faint tremors running through her body. Selene looked a little sad and scared, but also kind of indifferent. She knew that if she was actually witnessing what was happening, she wouldn't be so calm, but as long as all she had to do was listen to screams, she was alright. Ivy was leaning against the wall, her eyes alight with a hungry fire, and she kept licking her lips. Sometimes, when the screaming intensified, her breath would hitch slightly, and she would seem almost trance-like.

It was almost half an hour later when the screaming finally stopped. They waited breathlessly for several minutes until Rogue, Michelle and Kar emerged from the basement. Blood was spattered all over Rogue's face and body, and there was a dark smudge along her cheek where she'd brushed away a tear.

Michelle ran up the stairs and a moment later they heard the sound of retching. Kar studied his feet intently as he walked up the stairs, oblivious to everyone else. Rogue hesitated in the doorway, glancing back at the dark basement. She had her answers, there was no more reason to hurt him, and yet… she wanted to. She could still remember what he had made her do, could still hear her own voice begging for mercy, could still feel that baton pressed against the back of her neck as she knelt before him like some lower being.

Rogue shook herself, and looked at the others, not knowing her scary her eyes were in their emptiness.

"He gave us almost all the answers we wanted, and now he's unconscious. Ivy, go guard him, and don't touch him. Call me when he starts to wake up." With that, she turned and walked calmly up the stairs.