A/N: This chapter refers to torture methods that have been used innumerable times in many areas of the world. I've left out mentioning certain other types of torture that would almost surely have taken place, especially in the case of a female victim, because that's just too disturbing. Writing this chapter has only increased my conviction that all people are capable of unspeakable acts of evil.

Chapter 3:

Live to Prove Death

No one can be trusted over the age of 14.

-Bloc Party


So they were going to kill her. Holly wasn't sure how she felt about that. She knew she ought to feel something – fear, sadness, terror – even concern would do, but there was nothing. She was entirely numb. No matter how much she tried to focus on the potentially fatal fact that her execution was scheduled for 10:00 the next morning, she simply couldn't seem to make herself afraid. For some reason, her mind kept focusing on trivial little things. She would hear a strange sound, somewhere far off, that she couldn't quite place, and later she'd realize with a start that she been listening idly to this sound for some time, without having given a thought to her impending death. She knew that the old Holly would have been frantically considering her options, formulating a plan and several back-up plans, preparing herself mentally for battle, and so on. But this Holly just lay there on the cement floor, unconcerned and unmotivated. Why was that? No doubt Artemis would have had some psychological explanation…

Holly pressed her knuckles to her eyes, clamping them tightly shut. She'd managed not to think of Artemis for ages now – how long exactly, she couldn't be sure, as she'd long since lost any sense of time in this dark hole – but she'd repressed all memory of him for a long while, and she certainly wasn't going to let herself think of him now. That was what she told herself, anyway, but her mind had plans of its own. So instead of concentrating on her upcoming execution, she latched once more onto morbid thoughts of her best friend. Flashes of memory illuminated the cell with scene after painful scene. On some level, she was aware that she was hallucinating, but that didn't make the pictures any less agonizing.

A moonless night: the KVJ, wearing green and grey combat gear, jumping him in his gardens at Fowl Manor. His eyes fixed on her briefly in shock and disbelief – and something else she couldn't quite place – before he was shot down. Holly herself, pale-faced in her own combat gear, left her gun pointed at the ground where he'd fell.

A metallic prison cell, ringing with Artemis's screams as he was "interrogated" for days on end.

Artemis being marched past the formation of KVJ officers, their weapons at the ready. He did not look up, his gaze remaining firmly fixed on the floor. It was the first time she'd seem him since the incident in Fowl Gardens, and Holly was amazing to see how much he'd changed in just two short weeks. His cheeks had become almost sunken and he was thinner and paler than ever, but what really stopped her breath in her throat were his eyes. They were downcast, but they looked much bigger and rounder than before, even protruding strangely, which Holly attributed to his thinness and to the dark rings under his eyes. Worse than that, they betrayed his mind, showing that he'd been broken. She wanted him to look up, while being simultaneously terrified that he might, but he seemed to be allowing himself to be prodded and led blindly down the room, as if unaware that there was anyone watching him. But Holly knew he was aware that she was in the room. He knew, and she knew, that after the procedure was over, he would probably be dead within days, and if he wasn't – well, they'd get rid of him eventually, even if the mind wipe had been a total success. That is, if he didn't get rid of himself. Holly's heart began beating much too heavily and sharply, and she felt cold sweat on the back of her neck. She felt like shrieking in helplessness and horror at what she had done. For a moment she thought the lights must have dimmed, but then she realized it was only her, that she was blacking out. She felt panicky – what if she passed out and wasn't there to witness it? Then the light began to seep back into the room, and her vision returned to her just before they strapped him down, when he slowly raised his eyes and looked directly at her…

Holly lay on the floor of her dark cell, wondering why she couldn't cry. If she'd had the energy to be surprised at her apparent indifference, she would be. For some reason, she felt that it supported her point.

But she also realized, then, why she wasn't trying to escape her own execution – because it would prove her point with utter certainty. If only she could understand what that point was.

Holly had been in that cell for about a month and a half, after enduring two weeks of KVJ "persuasion," which went something like this:

No food, barely any water. Enter Stayl and two former LEP operatives.

"Ah, Captain," drawled Stayl, coming to a halt in front of where she stood, slumped against the wall. "You're awake."

That was meant to be a joke, and the ex-LEPs laughed appreciatively, knowing that she'd been forced to stay awake for over twelve days and nights by that time. Hulking male fairies took it in shifts to ensure she got no sleep at all. Her magic, of course, had been bled out of her a long time before. They'd slap her face brutally if her eyes started to close, yank her to her feet when her knees gave out. If she fell unconscious, they'd first drench her in ice water, and then kick and punch her until she was forced, reluctantly, into consciousness. In all, she'd undergone this routine for about fourteen days straight, and by that point, it was as if this time in the interrogation cell was the only life she'd ever known. They'd reduced her to something pathetic – whatever it was, it certainly wasn't Holly anymore.

It was sick. It was so disgusting, so inhumane, that at first she couldn't believe they would actually do this to her. After a few days of such treatment, however, she wasn't thinking at all, except about how much she needed to sleep. Everything else – gnawing hunger, desperate thirst, unbearable pain – all took second place to the absolute necessity of sleep. Once in a while, she become vaguely aware that the hysterical screaming that had been assaulting her ears for so long was her own, but she had no power to stop it, and she'd continue shrieking until her voice went hoarse. There'd be crying fits as well, but she mostly wasn't conscious of those. She'd hallucinate often, and sometimes she'd fall to the ground and start retching for no particular reason, but nothing would come up, and she had to stop when they kicked her in the stomach. Finally, she was too far gone to even respond to their shouted questions, and Stayl finally ordered the KJV to put her in an isolation cell.

Stayl hadn't got everything out of Holly's torture session that he'd hoped he would, but he had to admit it hadn't been a total loss. He'd had three main reasons for doing it, and two of them had been a spectacular success – he'd been able to feel the pure joy of watching an opponent suffer, and he'd given the antsy KVJ something to do. Particularly something that would entrench them firmly to his side; since they'd all followed his orders, questioning Stayl would mean questioning their own actions. They couldn't do that now. On the other hand, his third purpose had failed. She hadn't acknowledged Stayl and neo-Frondism to be right, even if she did admit fairly early on to being the traitorous, human-preferring, waste of space that she was.

Ah, well. No matter.

Frankly, he was stunned that she'd managed to resist admitting to everything he had suggested. He wasn't sure if it was due to extraordinary conviction or courage – more likely, she was already not quite all there by the time the session started. He'd definitely made her snap, but he didn't get too much satisfaction out of that fact, knowing that every last person would have done the same under those circumstances. After the first few days of violent resistance had passed, she'd become withdrawn and mute, saying nothing more until the hallucinations took over and the screaming began, which couldn't exactly be considered talking, and anyway, by that point she couldn't even remember who she was and there was no way she could have understood their demands for confession. Even if she had confessed, it wouldn't have made a difference – Stayl was always prepared to declare that she had.

However, he'd succeeded in breaking her spirit. Once left to herself in the prison cell, she'd immediately curled into a tight fetal position and fell asleep. She hadn't really moved from that position since then, though she'd occasionally open her eyes and stare into the darkness. When Stayl had told her she was to be executed, she'd barely responded. Even if it wasn't strictly necessary, it was still unfortunate that she hadn't confessed, because it would have made the KVJ and the general fairy population much more supportive of her execution – and of future executions of noncompliants – but it didn't really matter that much. Stayl would still announce to the Council (all hand-picked neo-Frondian supporters, of course), that Holly Short had admitted to fraternizing with humans for counter-revolutionary purposes. As much as it would give Stayl great personal satisfaction to do away with this infuriating loose cannon, it would also send a strong message to any other fairies who might be questioning the legitimacy of his regime: neo-Frondism is pro-fairy, any opinion to the contrary is conspiracy to overthrow fairy civilization, which would draw the attention of Stayl, which, Stayl grinned to himself, was something you didn't want to do.