08-09-2018, 05:37 PM
Kerlian-held territory, Southern Yervia
Night of August 8th
Matéo Labat was deriving grim satisfaction from frustrating his Kerlian torturers. The officer leading his interrogation was a woman with short red hair who pursed her lips tightly when she was angry. Matéo's sole source of pleasure for the past few days had been seeing that expression reappear again and again on her face. He was chained standing up in a small room he thought had been a farmhouse closet, with no place to sleep besides fitfully, and while standing up. There was no place to urinate, and they'd ignored him when he'd asked to use the bathroom. The interrogator and her thugs had taken to appearing during the middle of the night and at other odd hours. Matéo at least took comfort in that he didn't think they'd figured out he was a Laeralian spy. If they had, they'd probably be treating him worse than they were now. Instead of being the sole source of their torture, he was one of a few enemies of the Kerlian state his interrogators had devoted their special attention to.
The door opened without warning, and the interrogator stepped in, flanked by soldiers. "He goes too," she said, gesturing dismissively at him, and stepped out. No doubt she thought she had more important matters to attend to. The soldiers unchained him from the wall, and he almost collapsed, before they caught him under his arms and carried him out. Matéo let them take him. What could he do? He hadn't eaten since yesterday's sparse meal, and the only thing he'd had to drink had been a bucket of stagnant water splashed over his face that morning.
"Where are you taking me?" he rasped. The guards ignored him. In the warm Lauchenoirian night, they carried him past the barn where the other POWs were. Matéo had never been particularly religious, but he made a silent prayer for Daniel, and Camino, and the soldiers within. He'd gotten attached to the Lauchenoirian teenager, and he hoped that he'd be okay.
The guards lifted him into the back of a military truck, chaining him to the inside wall. There were two other prisoners in there, one completely non-responsive and one staring blankly off into space. The truck drove off, leaving the farmhouse behind. Matéo didn't know where he was going, but he figured it couldn't be good.
Night of August 8th
Matéo Labat was deriving grim satisfaction from frustrating his Kerlian torturers. The officer leading his interrogation was a woman with short red hair who pursed her lips tightly when she was angry. Matéo's sole source of pleasure for the past few days had been seeing that expression reappear again and again on her face. He was chained standing up in a small room he thought had been a farmhouse closet, with no place to sleep besides fitfully, and while standing up. There was no place to urinate, and they'd ignored him when he'd asked to use the bathroom. The interrogator and her thugs had taken to appearing during the middle of the night and at other odd hours. Matéo at least took comfort in that he didn't think they'd figured out he was a Laeralian spy. If they had, they'd probably be treating him worse than they were now. Instead of being the sole source of their torture, he was one of a few enemies of the Kerlian state his interrogators had devoted their special attention to.
The door opened without warning, and the interrogator stepped in, flanked by soldiers. "He goes too," she said, gesturing dismissively at him, and stepped out. No doubt she thought she had more important matters to attend to. The soldiers unchained him from the wall, and he almost collapsed, before they caught him under his arms and carried him out. Matéo let them take him. What could he do? He hadn't eaten since yesterday's sparse meal, and the only thing he'd had to drink had been a bucket of stagnant water splashed over his face that morning.
"Where are you taking me?" he rasped. The guards ignored him. In the warm Lauchenoirian night, they carried him past the barn where the other POWs were. Matéo had never been particularly religious, but he made a silent prayer for Daniel, and Camino, and the soldiers within. He'd gotten attached to the Lauchenoirian teenager, and he hoped that he'd be okay.
The guards lifted him into the back of a military truck, chaining him to the inside wall. There were two other prisoners in there, one completely non-responsive and one staring blankly off into space. The truck drove off, leaving the farmhouse behind. Matéo didn't know where he was going, but he figured it couldn't be good.