09-11-2023, 04:10 PM
Content Warning: this post contains depictions of torture.
Jointly written with Xiomera.
Imperial Intelligence Black Site, near Cos, Xiomera
Mariya Adema usually worked out of the Ministry of Loyalty complex on the outskirts of Tlālacuetztla, but she always welcomed the chance to get to see more of her adopted country. Not that government black sites were popular tourist destinations, but with professional torturers they may as well be.
Today, her subject would be one General Nezina of the Huenyan military, captured in the city of Collanto on the first day of the renewed Golden Blade uprising. Her job was to acquire as much military information out of him as possible. He'd held out for a week, but she had studied the footage of previous attempts and was already working on a psychological profile. He would not hold out much longer.
Mariya had sent instructions ahead of her for how the prisoner was to be prepared for her arrival. So when she entered the cell, he was already chained to the back wall in such a manner that all of his weight was on his bound wrists. He was also shivering thanks to the excessive air conditioning she had ordered. Mariya was wearing a winter coat.
"Good morning," Mariya began in nearly flawless Huenyan. "Do you know who I am, or will I need to give the preamble?"
"I know who you are," Nezina spat. "You are the pet Kerlian she-demon that Calhualyana keeps around to interrogate people."
"Aww, thank you!" Mariya said. She did so enjoy being called a demon. "So, we can get straight to business. Are we doing this the easy way or the hard way?"
"Nezina, Huenyan Federation Army, serial number HFM-16493659," the General replied, looking straight ahead with the stare of someone both determined and weighed down by thoughts of what was coming.
"The fun way, then," Mariya replied, smiling evilly. She placed the briefcase she'd brought into the cell on the table, in view of the prisoner. She opened it and flicked through the tools, holding several up to the light to let Nezina see. She eventually settled on a pair of pliers, turning back to see if Nezina's face had changed.
The sense of foreboding Nezina was feeling had clearly begun to take precedence over determination, if his expression was any clue. But the Huenyan general still remained silent, refusing to make things any easier for his tormentor.
Mariya shrugged, advanced on the prisoner and ran her nail along his cheek, drawing blood. She licked the blood off her finger, while looking him in his eyes. Then she darted for his hand and pulled off one of his fingernails with the pliers.
Nezina screamed, trying in vain to yank his hand away. The determination he was trying to show was impossible to maintain under these circumstances. Much like the Huenyan defenses he had commanded, Nezina's own internal defenses were already starting to crumble.
Mariya walked back to the table, placing the pliers to one side and rummaging through the box again. She picked up a hammer, swung it a few times, then shook her head and put it back down. Then she plucked out a device that looked something like a cross between a bottle opener and a pencil sharpener. She traced over an indentation on the bottom reading Made in Kerlile.
"Does that hurt?" Mariya purred. "Perhaps you'd like to tell me about Huenya's defenses now?"
Nezina spat out his name and serial number again, though his voice was noticeably wavering from the pain in his hand.
"Do you know what this is?" Mariya asked, holding up her new tool. "It's a relic from the Kerlian Civil War. I was a teenager during the war, myself. When I turned 18, I fought for the Matriarchy. Many of them, the DKS rebels, preferred death to capture. But at least we gave them the choice. They didn't ever give us one. Just killed everyone, no prisoners for them. Aren't you grateful you're alive?"
"I am under no illusions that I will remain that way. Your employer is as evil a person as has ever existed. So I have no reason to cooperate." Nezina grimaced and repeated his name and serial number again, as if it were a mantra.
"There are worse fates than death, you know," Mariya said casually as she walked towards his other hand. She pulled on each finger in turn, as if testing them. Then she picked his middle finger and inserted it into the little hole of her device. "There's always something worse. Still not talking?"
"I have no useful information. I was in command of a relatively unimportant sector. There is nothing I can tell you."
"Not at all," Mariya said, removing the device and cupping his cheek in her hand. "There's always something," she said, stroking his cheek. "Where are the military forces in and around Chuaztlapoc positioned?"
"I cannot tell you that. I can only tell you where the forces I used to command were positioned, before your employer's pet terrorists destroyed them." Nezina tried to pull his head away from Mariya's hand in apparent disgust.
"I think you can tell me more than you are saying," Mariya chuckled. She whipped out a second pair of pliers, that she'd been hiding somewhere upon her person, and ripped off another nail.
Nezina shouted again, his face beginning to become more panicked. "I can't! Stop please. I am telling you the truth."
"How well-equipped are the military forces in and around Chuaztlapoc?" Mariya asked calmly.
Nezina's face twisted in anger. "Take yourself to Mictlān, you witch!" His breathing had become quite heavy by this point.
"Why, do you know about a job opening?" Mariya asked. She went back to her collection of tools and fiddled with them. "Last chance to tell me before things get really bad for you."
"I can't, I really can't." Nezina tried again futilely to break free from his restraints. "Don't do anything else."
"You're lying to me. A pity," Mariya sighed. "I'll have to ramp things up a little. How about a makeover? I think you'd look nice with a Xiomeran flag burned into your forehead, don't you? Make sure it's the first thing people see when they look at you."
Nezina gasped. "No. No. People will think I am a traitor. Please don't do that. I can't anymore. I'll talk. Just….don't do that."
"Good, now. Let's try again. Where are the military forces in and around Chuaztlapoc stationed?"
Jointly written with Xiomera.
Imperial Intelligence Black Site, near Cos, Xiomera
Mariya Adema usually worked out of the Ministry of Loyalty complex on the outskirts of Tlālacuetztla, but she always welcomed the chance to get to see more of her adopted country. Not that government black sites were popular tourist destinations, but with professional torturers they may as well be.
Today, her subject would be one General Nezina of the Huenyan military, captured in the city of Collanto on the first day of the renewed Golden Blade uprising. Her job was to acquire as much military information out of him as possible. He'd held out for a week, but she had studied the footage of previous attempts and was already working on a psychological profile. He would not hold out much longer.
Mariya had sent instructions ahead of her for how the prisoner was to be prepared for her arrival. So when she entered the cell, he was already chained to the back wall in such a manner that all of his weight was on his bound wrists. He was also shivering thanks to the excessive air conditioning she had ordered. Mariya was wearing a winter coat.
"Good morning," Mariya began in nearly flawless Huenyan. "Do you know who I am, or will I need to give the preamble?"
"I know who you are," Nezina spat. "You are the pet Kerlian she-demon that Calhualyana keeps around to interrogate people."
"Aww, thank you!" Mariya said. She did so enjoy being called a demon. "So, we can get straight to business. Are we doing this the easy way or the hard way?"
"Nezina, Huenyan Federation Army, serial number HFM-16493659," the General replied, looking straight ahead with the stare of someone both determined and weighed down by thoughts of what was coming.
"The fun way, then," Mariya replied, smiling evilly. She placed the briefcase she'd brought into the cell on the table, in view of the prisoner. She opened it and flicked through the tools, holding several up to the light to let Nezina see. She eventually settled on a pair of pliers, turning back to see if Nezina's face had changed.
The sense of foreboding Nezina was feeling had clearly begun to take precedence over determination, if his expression was any clue. But the Huenyan general still remained silent, refusing to make things any easier for his tormentor.
Mariya shrugged, advanced on the prisoner and ran her nail along his cheek, drawing blood. She licked the blood off her finger, while looking him in his eyes. Then she darted for his hand and pulled off one of his fingernails with the pliers.
Nezina screamed, trying in vain to yank his hand away. The determination he was trying to show was impossible to maintain under these circumstances. Much like the Huenyan defenses he had commanded, Nezina's own internal defenses were already starting to crumble.
Mariya walked back to the table, placing the pliers to one side and rummaging through the box again. She picked up a hammer, swung it a few times, then shook her head and put it back down. Then she plucked out a device that looked something like a cross between a bottle opener and a pencil sharpener. She traced over an indentation on the bottom reading Made in Kerlile.
"Does that hurt?" Mariya purred. "Perhaps you'd like to tell me about Huenya's defenses now?"
Nezina spat out his name and serial number again, though his voice was noticeably wavering from the pain in his hand.
"Do you know what this is?" Mariya asked, holding up her new tool. "It's a relic from the Kerlian Civil War. I was a teenager during the war, myself. When I turned 18, I fought for the Matriarchy. Many of them, the DKS rebels, preferred death to capture. But at least we gave them the choice. They didn't ever give us one. Just killed everyone, no prisoners for them. Aren't you grateful you're alive?"
"I am under no illusions that I will remain that way. Your employer is as evil a person as has ever existed. So I have no reason to cooperate." Nezina grimaced and repeated his name and serial number again, as if it were a mantra.
"There are worse fates than death, you know," Mariya said casually as she walked towards his other hand. She pulled on each finger in turn, as if testing them. Then she picked his middle finger and inserted it into the little hole of her device. "There's always something worse. Still not talking?"
"I have no useful information. I was in command of a relatively unimportant sector. There is nothing I can tell you."
"Not at all," Mariya said, removing the device and cupping his cheek in her hand. "There's always something," she said, stroking his cheek. "Where are the military forces in and around Chuaztlapoc positioned?"
"I cannot tell you that. I can only tell you where the forces I used to command were positioned, before your employer's pet terrorists destroyed them." Nezina tried to pull his head away from Mariya's hand in apparent disgust.
"I think you can tell me more than you are saying," Mariya chuckled. She whipped out a second pair of pliers, that she'd been hiding somewhere upon her person, and ripped off another nail.
Nezina shouted again, his face beginning to become more panicked. "I can't! Stop please. I am telling you the truth."
"How well-equipped are the military forces in and around Chuaztlapoc?" Mariya asked calmly.
Nezina's face twisted in anger. "Take yourself to Mictlān, you witch!" His breathing had become quite heavy by this point.
"Why, do you know about a job opening?" Mariya asked. She went back to her collection of tools and fiddled with them. "Last chance to tell me before things get really bad for you."
"I can't, I really can't." Nezina tried again futilely to break free from his restraints. "Don't do anything else."
"You're lying to me. A pity," Mariya sighed. "I'll have to ramp things up a little. How about a makeover? I think you'd look nice with a Xiomeran flag burned into your forehead, don't you? Make sure it's the first thing people see when they look at you."
Nezina gasped. "No. No. People will think I am a traitor. Please don't do that. I can't anymore. I'll talk. Just….don't do that."
"Good, now. Let's try again. Where are the military forces in and around Chuaztlapoc stationed?"
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