"Johanna!" A brown haired girl comes flying from a tree.
"Yes, daddy?"
"What are you doing?" He asks with slight chuckle.
"Climbing a tree," she says with a shrug and he smiles at his daughter.
"It's time for dinner, so go wash up."
"Yes, sir!" She says enthusiastically and he rolls his eyes. She knows how much he hates that title and now she does it to spite him, but only playfully. He'll get her back later. Johanna makes her way upstairs into the bathroom. She turns on the water and she takes a handful and brings it to her face. Just as the water makes contact a shock like none other courses through her and she lets out a bloodcurdling scream. She falls to the ground.
Johanna leans forward in her chair, panting. It's not that she can go very far. Her arms are bound behind her back around the wooden chair and her feet are tied to the legs. Her clothes are soaked with water and she looks to see her torturer standing there with an empty bucket. He looks at her with concern.
"Are you alright? Where did you go there, Ms. Mason?" She just glares at him while she attempts to catch her breath.
"It's okay…you can talk to me." Johanna just looks down while concentrating on her breathing. He looks at her for a while before returning to the sink to fill up the bucket. He is highly skilled at his line of work. President Snow praised him on his ability to actually appear concerned for his victims, showing what appears to be true remorse. What makes him skilled is he gets no pleasure from torture. Every thing he does is systematic with an end goal. Never does he abuse his power for when he does, he loses control and he cannot lose control. He prefers to talk it out but some people just need a push and some people need a beating. Johanna Mason is a fascinating creature. As a former victor he knew she'd be a tough one to break. He has yet to crack through for her to talk but he sees her breaking. Her reaction to the filling of the bucket indicates she begins to associate it with pain. Soon it'll be water on her that'll become the association and perhaps hydrophobia is in her future. But hopefully it doesn't come to that, as she hopefully will talk.
"You know, it doesn't have to be this way?"
"Oh?" Johanna says with her trademark smirk.
"Yes. Just talk to me and it'll all be better."
"And if I were to talk, what would happen to me? Would I be killed? Have my tongue ripped out? Placed in the cell and just tortured to be tortured?"
"I could certainly discuss it with the higher ups and get back to you on that. But maybe you'd be freed. Or at least taken out of prison?"
"Your words mean nothing to me. I have no way of trusting you to tell the truth?"
"I have never once lied to you, Ms. Mason."
"That doesn't build trust. You may always tell the truth but you are the one who throws the water and turn on the electricity." She says emotionlessly.
"True, but I get no satisfaction from it." Johanna scoffs at his reply.
"As if. No one sane does this job," she answers back and he gives a small smile.
"Then you could do this job." Johanna looks at him bewildered.
"Excuse me? I would never-"
"Why is that? Do you believe you are better than everyone? Please, you're a victor. Nobody decent ever wins the games-correction, survives the games."
"You got me there. But then again, at least I didn't relish in the killing of them."
"Now who is the liar? You're going to sit there and lie to me, lie to yourself?"
"It's not like I can stand and do it," she says with a sadistic smile and he actually laughs.
"I'll admit that was clever but returning to the point. You didn't ever once feel relief when that cannon went off knowing now you were one step closer to going home, to seeing your family again."
"A lot of good that did."
"Unrelated to the topic, Ms. Mason. You did relish those innocent kids deaths. Even the careers are innocent because they too did not have a choice. Brainwashed into thinking what they were doing was right and you killed them. You killed kids and you relished in their deaths.
You're not a decent person; hell you're a killer, a coldblooded one at that. I can assure you, I have never once taken a life. I have never once relished in another's death and I surely do not enjoy this. But we all have a job to do in this war." He pauses for a moment. "Can you say all of that, Ms. Mason?" Johanna just sits there thinking that he is right. She did relish in the cannon. He watches her for an hour. He doesn't believe she is still thinking about their conversation but he is optimistic he is starting to crack down the walls. Between physical and emotional manipulation, he'll be able to get her to open up. He is confident in his abilities. With a sigh he reluctantly stands up and moves to the bucket he placed on the ground.
"Johanna?" He asks, attempting to get her attention but there is no response. She is long gone inside her memories. With a deep breath he throws the bucket of water onto her body. Her muscles contract as if electricity is surging through her. It takes a few beats but she realizes the electricity is off. They won. They've caused her to be fearful, something she hasn't been in years. He looks at her sympathetically; he finally cracked her. It was only a matter of time before he broke her. Frowning and looking at her, he knows she isn't about to talk so he does the only thing he can do right now. Never taking his eyes off her he flicks the lever and watch as she contorts in pain and lets out a scream. He is disappointed in her for not talking and is more disappointed in himself for not getting her to talk sooner. He flicks off the lever and allows her to catch her breath before turning on the electricity again. Sweat peels down her face and he sees tears falling as well. She doesn't cry often. Though her screams usually will cause her to tear, he never once seen her cry. Despite her strong will, she is not invincible and in time she will fall. They always do.