Torture
It was my wolf that woke me up, her writhing agony jolting me awake. Her pain was mine as she convulsed uncontrollably within me. White-hot pain seared through my body in forks of ruthless lightning as I screamed and screamed and screamed, until it abated abruptly, leaving me curled in a tight foetal position, shuddering violently and silently sobbing.
Once the pain had subsided into a dull throb, I managed to slowly sit up, albeit still flinching, and survey the dark cell that seemed vaguely familiar. Where had I seen it before? I couldn't quite recall where I'd seen it.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" a gruff voice murmured from a shadowed corner somewhere in front of me. My ankles and wrists were chained in heavy metal shackles that clanked loudly when I turned abruptly to the sound. Already, the friction of the metal against my skin was starting to rub it raw.
"What?" I rasped. The insides of my throat felt like I had swallowed a razor, and the tissue was cut and bloody.
"It hurts, doesn't it?" the voice repeated. I instantly placed my finger on the voice. Moore. "We came across this method of... restraining Lupi, shall we say, several years ago. I don't suppose you're colleagues have introduced you to Akonit?" My blood ran cold within my veins at those words, and Moore laughed mirthlessly. "I see that they have. Well, it can be administered in multiple ways, depending on how sadistic you feel. It can be brewed into a rather vile concoction that can be swallowed. It can be inhaled, and in small doses can act as a drug... that is, if you aren't a particularly unlucky Lupi. It can also be absorbed by the skin or open wounds, and can find its way into the bloodstream... so tell me: can you feel it tearing you beloved little wolf to pieces? Shredding it apart? Destroying it?"
My breath escaped rapidly in short and frenzied pants. No no no no no no no no...
"Oh, yes," Moore gloated. "If you can see through the dark, you might notice that the floor's been covered just for you!"
I brought my hands close to my face, and could make out dozens of tiny, microscopic cuts littered across my skin, across my body, with specks of blood and a purplish liquid smeared over it. Small but sharp stabs of pain formed a blanket of pinpricks over my body, and I could feel my wolf within whimpering in pain.
"She's dying, isn't she?" Moore's voice was triumphant and malicious, full of satisfaction. "Now, if I were you, I'd take this as an incentive to speak."
"What?" I managed to say through an almost unresponsive jaw.
"You heard me," Moore snarled, and came out of the shadows. His blonde hair was dishevelled, and his chin was unshaven and bristly. Dark eyes blazed at me through rings of purple. "What are you planning?"
"I—I don't know," I stammered, when my jaw suddenly contracted and clenched, my teeth sinking into my low lips. Blood gushed from the wound, and I gagged. Under normal circumstances, the wound would have already started healing, but the Akonit was detrimental to my body, reducing the healing almost to that of a human's.
"Bullshit!" Moore shouted. He squatted down in front of me so that his eyes were level with mine. "What—are—you—planning?" he hissed. He reached forward and grabbed my chin with leather clad fingers so that I couldn't look away.
"I'm not planning anything!" I frantically spluttered after coughing uncontrollably on my metallic blood. "I was just sent here, and that's it! I don't know anything!"
Don't give anything away, Megan, Emory warned. Stay strong.
But I don't know anything! I thought desperately, but kept the thought to myself.
"Alright then, let's play this game your way then, shall we? Let's start simple. How 'bout we start with your name, huh?"
It's a safe topic. Tell him.
"Megan," I mumbled, blood trickling down my chin in rivulets. "Megan... Vaughn."
"Well then, that wasn't so hard, was it now?" Moore spat vindictively, and then he tipped my chin upwards. I managed to let out a short cry before I started to choke on my blood, trying to find air but ultimately ending up clogging my windpipe. My lungs were screaming in agony, but just as I thought I was going to pass out, or even die, Moore let go, letting me spit out the obstructive blood that was threatening to fill my lungs. "What else?"
"I'm telling you... I don't know anything!" I whispered, almost sobbing in despair, and then a steel-toed boots rammed between my ribs, throwing me against the stone wall. The skin around my ankles and wrists were starting to bleed.
As I struggled to regain my breath, Moore repeated his question. "You listen very closely, you hear? I am going to be asking the same question, and this is going to keep happening, on and on, for every single wrong—fucking—answer!" he finished with a scream, driving in another kick with each word.
Once I'd somewhat recovered and the blood had stopped thundering in my ears, I felt Moore lean in close, his stubble grazing my cheek coarsely. "I'm giving you one hour, you hear? One hour, for you to get your shit together, and then I'll be back. If you don't answer, this is going to continue, in a cycle for as long as it takes. And you know what? Even if you don't have any answers... well, soon enough we won't be needing any. Either way, you'd better be ready when I come back.
I watched Moore stride away and then the door slammed shut, the echo resonating throughout the cell, through my body. My body spasmed violently for a moment before I got on all fours and threw up, retching in a desperate attempt to clear my throat, which was still blocked with blood. Once I'd spat out the last of the chunks, I backed away from the mess I'd left and curled up loosely in fear of hurting my chest. My ribs felt bruised, battered and broken at once, pain splintering through my body in jagged spikes. I was sure at least two of my ribs were broken, although there were probably more. It felt as though one wrong move would pierce the shattered remains of my bones through my abdomen.
How much longer can I manage?
Not long, obviously, Megs. I mean, like, have you seen yourself lately?
Shut up, I snarled. That bitchy voice that had tormented me before Jessica had risen was back. All of those walls and masks of Jessica were breaking down, revealing an only too vulnerable and frail Megan that was left too close to the edge.
Megan, Emory instructed firmly. Stay calm, alright? You listen to me and get yourself together, alright?
Get myself together? I screamed hysterically. Are you fucking hearing yourself right now?
Megan! The dangerous note in his voice finally shut me up. Calm down. Just stay put and don't give anything away, okay? I know that you believe yourself to be weak and pathetic, but you're not, okay? You've gotten this far, and who else could have gotten to this point if they weren't brave? Believe in yourself and stay strong, alright? I won't be able to talk to you for a while now because things are going to get really busy, but you stay strong, okay?
Wait! Do you know where Kieran is?
He's on his way. We will come for you, I promise.
Okay, I murmured, and just like that, I felt his absence in my head. Empty. Nobody was there except me.
You are brave, Megan. You are as brave as brave can be, Megan. You, Megan Vaughn, are brave. Brave, you hear? B—R—A—V—E. You. Are. Brave. Brave with a capital B. You can do this. Stay strong, Megan, and be brave. You are brave, Megan.
The same words repeated themselves in my head, forming an infinite loop until they lost all meaning and just became of mere collection of meaningless words strung up together. Again and again and again and again...
I slowly sat up, trying my best to ignore my wolf's agony and my physical body's pain, and observed the room. It vaguely resembled the basement of the demon-dominant Nephilim's headquarters, with horrifying implements of torture lining the room that looked like they belonged to a medieval torture chamber—I could almost imagine a poor soul a thousand years ago being forced into an iron maiden in this very room. This, combined with the stench of my vomit and blood, revive yet another wave of nausea that threatened to make me throw up all over again.
I gulped down the bitter taste of the rising bile and looked down, and realised that I was situated in the middle of a large circle drawn in chalk. It was covered on a purple liquid along with violet flowers and dark emerald leaves. The longer I stared at them, the harder it became for me to breathe, and soon the insides of my nostrils and my throat began to burn furiously.
Stay strong, Megan. Keep it together, Megan. Be brave, Megan. Stay strong, Jessica. Keep it together, Jessica. Be brave, Jessica.
I repeated the same three sentences in my head, unconsciously slipping into my self-made persona and instantly found relief in being that wondrous woman of insanity and bravery. Despite the fact that she had tried to kill her Alpha and made a living from questionable forms of employment, I couldn't help but admire her fictional perseverance to survive as a rogue when I was ready to die, and her single-minded determination to bring her revenge into action. As terribly ill-placed as my admiration was, I couldn't help but look up to Jessica Shaw, who was so much braver, so much more than me, and it comforted me to know that I could become her, through and through, by just changing my name.
A small and twisted smile crossed my lips as I straightened up, sitting as straight as my ribs would allow me to against the wall, ignoring the miasma of bile and blood. I was content for now, knowing that Jessica would be ready for Moore and his men, and Jessica would take each and every punch and kick and she wouldn't say a word to admit or acknowledge her pain. Jessica was brave, and Jessica would watch them unwaveringly as she burned.