"Tell us!" The commander screamed into Charlie's pained face.
Charlie shook his head slightly, blood dripping from his mouth coating his chin. He let his head fall back into the empty space, for the chair he was restrained in was too short to support his full upper body. His body shook with the electricity that had racked his frame only minutes before. His head lolled to the side, as he struggled to remain conscious. His eyes fluttering every time the Commander spat into his broken face. Bruises formed all over his weak, muscled arms, and face where he had been brutally beaten.
"Tell us where Scarlett and Derek are!" The commander hollered again, this time slamming his fist down on the metal table. He turned his head slowly, then nodded to one of his two men flanking him.
Ivan's hand landed on the dial to control the electricity he was about to pulse through Charlie's body for the seventh time within the hour. Charlie squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself, waiting for the pain to rack his body. When the commander turned the dial all the way to ten, Charlie's scream echoed throughout the whole corridor, able to be heard by anyone in the area. His fists clenched and unclenched as the pain started to dissipate and his broken features relaxed. Sweat dripped down his face from the repeated strains, and he was utterly exhausted. He hadn't said a word to them, no matter what they threatened to do to him. It didn't matter.
"What about your baby brother?" The commander mused, all frustration vanishing from his features. Charlie groaned in agony, although it was hard to tell if it was from the thought of his brother going through this hell, or from the sheer pain of it all.
"What would you spill to guarantee his safety?" He went on. Charlie strained and shook his head rapidly.
"P-please. D-don't... you wouldn't da-re." His voice thick, and his lips swollen. He winced, his voice breaking, trying to get the words out through his rugged breaths.
"Tell us where they are and I'll personally guarantee his safety." The commander said excitement playing around on his features that he might actually get the answer he's been searching for.
"No." Charlie growled, gaining some strength back, ready to fight some more.
"Untie him." The commander ordered, his smile vanishing as he turned away from the boy in the interrogation room. His face reflected across the mirrored walls, and he nodded toward the seeming one-way glass. Two men came upon him, to yank off the restraints, proving to be anything but gentle. They yanked the wooden chair out from under him, throwing it the short span into the corner. Charlie's body fell to the cold concrete floor in a heap.
"Get up." One of the men came, exasperated, as he grabbed Charlie by the collar of his shirt pulling him to his feet. Charlie grabbed onto the wall for support, wiping the blood from his mouth onto his sleeve. He slowly and shakily put up his open fists, managing a fight stance, even though he was obviously in no shape to.
He staggered a few steps towards the two men. But before he could defend himself or throw a punch, a fist planted itself in Charlie's stomach, making him double over in pain. He grabbed onto the wall once again, leaving streaked blood fingerprints on the wall. Another fist smashed into his lower jaw, making him fall to the floor. He spit out more blood and tried to clamor to his feet once again. Charlie continued to get up slowly, but the punches never ceased.
After minutes of this slow torture, Charlie was thrown back into the interrogation chair and tied up again. The commander entered the room, taking in the damage, one of the mirrors was shattered with blood smeared in the crevices of broken glass, a dent in the metal of the west wall, and Charlie, looking like death was staring him in the face. Charlie tried to look to where the commander was standing, but his eyes were swollen shut. He breathed in and out heavily, but it was getting harder by the minute with the amount of blood he kept coughing up.
"How about now, you pathetic excuse for a soldier?" The commander mused, pacing back and forth in front of him. Charlie remained silent, although it was more due to the damage that was done to his throat in the beating. "We spotted your friends, crawling through the air ducts," He said, making crawling movements with his hands. Charlie barely registered his surprise. "It won't be long till they come looking for you, and they find you. That would just make our job easier. We could just string you up as bait." He smiled harshly at the idea.
"They... won't... f-fall for... i-it." He managed, his voice unrecognizable.
"Oh, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie. See that's where you're wrong because..." The Commander leaned over and put his hands on the arm rests of the chair, just inches from his face. "I know they will." He drew out.
"N-no... they..." Charlie's voice was lost as he faded out of consciousness.
