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Brave Torture
She sat in the chair, stiff from the days of inactivity, bruised from the hours of beating. She sat, her hands tied to the chair, the chains clanking with every small movement.
Her dark hair, lank from days without washing, was matted with sweat. The air in the room was stale and desperate, but underlined with her bravery and defiance.
Water dripped from the ceiling in a slow rhythm. Her eyes flew open at the sound of footsteps, which couldn’t be seen. A man appeared out of the gloom, stepping into the only light in the room, the light that was pointed directly at her.
“Miss Evelyn, your determination to keep the location of the ring is tiring, as it becomes boring to torture you when no sound escapes.” His tone was cool and hinted with malice, mixed with impatience. No reply came from her lips, just her eyes boring into the man showed her response.
“So, we’re going to be difficult today, again, if memory serves correctly.” A cold smile formed on her lips. He balanced on the balls of his feet, cracking his knuckles. He laughed and the sound bounced around the room, jumping off every corner.
“Miss Evelyn, I grow weary of our one-sided conversations. Just tell me the location and you’re free to go. You have five minutes to think and ponder. If you don’t talk, you know what will.” He glanced at his hand, which was curled into a fist.
She turned her head away from him and he disappeared, his footsteps growing faint. She grew paler as the moments passed, thinking about the punishment that was bound to come.
What if he punched my jaw? she thought. It was sure to dislodge the ring that was covering her tongue. It would be sent flying and the men would lunge for it. She would be killed for deceit.
She thrashed in her chair, creating a din in the cavernous room. The man’s guards stepped out to restrain her, but the man clapped twice, calling them off.
“Why do I feel like I know your answer, Miss Evelyn?” She stared at him, her eyes laughing. He pulled back, his own eyes flaming with anger. His fist connected with her stomach and she keeled over in pain. Trying in vain to clutch her abdomen, but the chains restricted her. He turned away and circled her, pacing. “Take her away, out of my sight. Kill her, if you want. Just dispose of her.”
The guards unlocked her chains, forcing her to stand. Two took her roughly by the arm, another smothered her nose and mouth with a rag soaked in chloroform.
Feeling herself pass out, she allowed them to drag her away. She heard the familiar slam of a truck door. She bounced in the hold as the truck reached bumpy shore.
Waking groggily, she kept her eyes closed as she felt the man put manacles around her wrist and ankles, binding them together. She felt her body flash with heat as panic overtook her.
They hauled her limp body into the light of the moon. A guard chained a cinderblock to her feet and all three burly men tossed her in the deep river.
She flew through the air and fell into the water with a large splash, but no one would hear it, for nobody lived around here for miles. Her head slipped under the water the cinderblock leading her swiftly to the silt that lay undisturbed at the rivers’ bottom. Her hair swirled around her, swaying in the direction of the current.
She clawed at the water’s surface with her binded wrists, which seemed much closer than it actually was. Her lungs burned with the need for air, her mind became cloudy.
She cursed the man and his guards before water filled her lungs. Her body drifted at the bottom of the river; the ring still on her tongue.
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