"Interrogate the prisoner by any means necessary," the man with the monocle growled through his teeth.
The prisoner, bound and shackled, was dragged limply by a man in a dark hood across the bare stone floor. The air was humid and the walls leaked in the flickering light of the torches that lined either side of the corridor. The hooded man lifted his charge off the cold stone and threw him forcefully against the chamber wall.
"What is your name?" He snarled.
"Jeffery Castor." The prisoner grunted, attempting to cover his weakness by leaning against the wall, only to fall to a heap on the floor.
"Pathetic," the guard laughed, "where were you last night?"
"Working alone by the old dam, I'm a miller." He explained.
"Fallacy!" he roared, "Where were you last night?!"
Jeffery regarded his captor with curiosity. He was a large man with dark matted hair coming just to his belt line. His jaw was square with a deep shadow of stubble upon his snow white skin; he appeared as though he hadn't seen the light of day for a very long time.
"Answer!" He shrieked, backhanding his prisoner and throwing him again to the damp wall.
"I told you already!" Jeffery screamed cowering against the wall, "Please! You must believe me! I'm a miller! My wife and daughter were brutally murdered last night and all you can do is beat me and tell me I'm lying. You're wasting time! Why don't you just catch the bastard who killed them instead of beating around the bush with me? Let me go! Leave me alone!"
"Prisoner is with holding information!" The guard called.
The door they had entered through opened and two similarly clad men carried in a chair, some ropes and a large array of pins and daggers.
"What are you going to do to me?" Jeffery stammered.
"I am referred to as 'The Impaler' for a reason." The guard smiled, hoisting Jeffery off the floor and into the chair.
Before he knew it Jeffery had been stripped and bound to the chair with his legs on either side leaving him horribly exposed.
"What time did you get in last night?"
"Nine - thirty, I was late and missed dinner."
"Missed the killing, missed the agony, the gore and blood did you? Then explain why your pans are soaked with sin?"
"I returned home last night, and the house was completely dark. I fell into a pool of my daughter's blood as I tried to remove the knife from her spine." Jeffery replied thickly through tears staining his grime encrusted face.
The Impaler scoffed as screams echoed through the dungeon. He admired his handiwork, two pins symmetrically placed in either side of the interior of Mr. Castor's pelvis.
"That's not the story I wish to hear. Tell me how you savagely raped your wife and brutalized your daughter."
"There's nothing to tell!" He raved hysterically. "I found the bodies, the next thing I know, I wake up here with you dragging me across the tomb." He writhed in pain as two daggers were shoved one at a time between his ribs, blood pouring down his sides and pooling heatedly in his groin.
"You beat her, why not just kill her? I know you'd have wanted to. Just admit it, you massacred your family."
"Never! I--" His protests were cut short by two pins being roughly shoved through his tear ducts.
"Say it! Tell me how you raped and tortured our wife, ripped out her earrings and stabbed her repeatedly until she finally ceased to breathe. Tell me how you turned half crazed upon your daughter and drowned her in her mother's blood before ending her life in he same fashion as her mother's."
"Enough! I can't take anymore of this! Stop! Okay I did it, I killed them, I - I - I murdered them last night. It was me! Just - just kill me too, I deserve to die!" Tears of blood cascaded down his cheeks already wet with tears.
"Oh, I'll kill you, there's no option there, but I want to hear it, every detail." The Impaler leered from under his hood.
"I - I came home early from work and... And I, I walked through the backdoor, with a knife in my hand, prepared to kill my wife, I then... tied her to the chair and raped her as she screamed and pleaded for mercy. For another act of measured cruelty I ripped her earlobes and then stabbed her fourteen times, until she finally died." Jeffery whimpered in pain.
"That's not the whole story," The captor sneered, "tell me about your young blond daughter." he added driving daggers into into each of his prisoner's kneecaps. " The law demands a full confession."
"Yes! Yes! Just please, please stop, I can't lose much more blood and stay conscious."
"Then talk faster."
"I pulled my daughter towards her mother and held her head to the floor, face down so as to allow her to breathe in her mother's blood and drown. I then left the knife in the base of her spine."
Jeffery looked to his captor once again. The Impaler had blood stains around his eyes which were ice blue, cold and calculating; easy to read. His smile could have made banshee cringe in revulsion.
"You missed the part where your golden haired daughter burst through the door screaming for her mother, only to find you there drenched in a crimson apron." The hooded man spat.
"Mummy's dead and you're next." Jeffrey hissed.
"My words exactly. Not a bad retelling for someone who wasn't even there. You even managed to get the number of knife wounds in your wife's back correct. You must be the real deal." Jefferey's captor grinned manically and leaned in closer to his prey. "I guess they didn't die in vain your family, they were bait to get to you."
"What do you mean, you filthy diseased husk of a man?" Jeffrey screeched.
"I know you're little secret now. No one other than I knows all the details of your family's murder, not even you. You read my mind to find out what happened, there's no other way you'd know. We've been searching for your kind for a while now, a bit of an extermination if you catch my drift."
"So you lured me out into the open by killing my family?! How many other innocent people have you done this to?"
"Reading minds is not innocent!" The Impaler shouted, "It is a breach of National Security. You people can hack into computer systems by simply plucking a password out of some one's head. It is not enough to simply incarcerate telepaths, we must burn them all and dispose of the remains in order to stop the spreading epidemic of psychic terrorism."
He then turned his attention to the cellar door and called out, "We've got another mind reader in here!" The two men who previously brought in the implements of Jeffrey's demise materialized at his sides.
"You left out one detail though," The Impaler whispered slyly, "you left out how your wife moaned in pleasure as I raped her again and again while she was bound to the chair."
Jeffrey's hands clenched in anger, and his face flushed hot in the dim flickering light of the torches. "Haven't you tortured me enough?" He spat, " She shrieked and cried in revulsion before she went unconscious." He sobbed uncontrollably, straining against his bonds.
"Proof!" Crowed the prison guard. "He is a mind reader! Burn him, and then throw him to the lake to join his wife and daughter." He ordered.
A year later the Impaler's wife gave birth to a baby boy. The midwife insisted upon an aquatic birthing for the wife was in hideous amounts of pain and agony.
The birthing was long and laboured, and as a result the child was mildly disfigured. He had two small scars on his pelvis, two jagged scars on both his ribs and knees, and he was also born blind. The Impaler decided to name him Frey.
The boy never said a word until seven days after his seventh birthday.
"Father?" He rasped, regarding the prison guard with his glazed dead eyes. "Who was Jeffrey Castor?"
"W - Why do you ask?" The Impaler stuttered, caught off guard by his son's sudden speech.
For the first time in his life Frey looked his father in the eyes as a smiled crawled across his face. "You just think about him a lot." He replied innocently.
1 comment:
Steph likes!!
You've got some really REALLY interesting twists in there. =) Keep going.
(Is this your tril?)
The only thing I'd say that bothered me while I read was sometimes the emotions/actions did not line up with the situation. For example, at the beggining when the prisoner is being thrown around a room and interrotaged, he won't regard his captor in curiosity. More like he'd struggle to lift one eyelid to catch a glimpse of his torturer through his eyelashes, or something like that, you know? But that's just me.
<3 you, miss you.
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