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FAN FICTION
NIGHTMARE - INTERROGATION

By: Raving

I was held in a cell. Four walls, I think they were made of steel, pretty thick too. There was only one light dangling from the ceiling, threatening to fall down any second. In one of the walls was a door, also made of steel with a very small window through which a glimpse of light fell at a specific time of day. I think it was in the morning. I was fed bread, some meat and water. I don't think they had anything better cause this was crap. Some time later, about two days, someone came into the cell, an interrogator. Wearing black, polished boots, a grey uniform with a Soviet logo and a red barrette. He was about the same height as me but had considerably more muscles than me. I remember when I first saw him I froze, I don't know if it was from fear or something else. The man was accompanied by two other soldiers who were carrying equipment. They were dressed in a standard Soviet uniform but I could not find any sign of a Soviet logo. They put down two chairs and a small table. The interrogator sat down and opened a briefcase which was as black as his eyes. He put some papers on the table and started to write something on paper, then he pulled out a recorder and spoke something in Russian. He looked up at me with and when we made eye contact I could see a cold, dark look in his eyes. The kind of look that was able to penetrate bones and lies. He told me to sit down in plain English. I looked up, surprised.

"Are you surprised?" He asked.
"Do not be afraid, we are taught English at a very young age. Please, sit down."
I sat down on a chair and immediately jumped up a little bit.
"Cold?" He asked.
"Don't worry, you'll get used to it. Now please sit down."
I sat down again and lowered my head so we wouldn't have direct eye contact. He wrote something down on the paper again and said some Russian thing. He then looked towards me and began his interrogation.
"What were you doing in our territory?"
I told him my name and rank as is stated in the military rules of the United States of America. No soldier shall reveal anymore than his name and rank when interrogated, was a phrase I heard many times before. Only not from the enemy. He proceeded,
"What were you doing in our territory?"
For a moment it became silent, then he continued.
"Since you do not wish to tell me that I will ask you something else."
"What were your orders?"
Again I said nothing and every time I didn't reply he got more irritated and I grew more confident. After about twelve questions I had enough courage to look straight into his eyes. I grinned, he became furious and stood up, causing the chair he sat on to fly against the wall. His enormous body blocked the light as he shouted something in Russian. He walked towards the door and knocked on it. A soldier opened the door and let the man out, two other soldiers came in and took the chairs and table. What they did not see was that I had taken a few pieces of paper and a pen.
After what appeared to me as a week the man came back, he walked up to me and asked me where the pieces of paper and the pen were but I told him I did not know what he was talking about. He asked me over and over and I kept telling him I didn't know what he was talking about. He got furious and slammed his fist against the wall, he shouted like he was hurt. I think he broke his hand.

After a considerable amount of time he returned with two guards, they moved me through a hall which was badly lit, I could hear people scream of pain and got upset for some reason. Surely, I had heard these kinds of screams before, haven't I? Maybe not, you would be surprised if you knew how many different screams there are and how they all look alike. The two soldiers put me into a room with a chair. They strapped me to the chair and set up another chair and a table. After quite some time the interrogator came walking in to the room, holding a case. He put it on the table and got all sorts of medical instruments out. I got the feeling he didn't intend to operate me with them though. After he had put several items on the table he put away the case and looked at me, he grinned.

"Since you do not wish to tell us what we want to know freely I thought you could use some encouragement."
He took a syringe and moved it across my arm, then he held it away from me and tore my sleeves off. He placed the syringe just above my elbow and moved towards a vein. He got there in a second but that second seemed to last an eternity. He moved the syringe again and put it against my head, slowly moving it down. He smiled real mean as if this was his revenge for the broken fist he had gotten a few days before. He pressed the syringe against my head and I could feel sweat dripping from my head.
"Are you afraid?" He asked, I didn't reply and that got him mad. He moved the syringe again to my arm and put it on a vein, he immediately pressed it in. I had needles in me before but never did they hurt so much as this one. He injected a liquid into my bloodstream and backed away for a few seconds. I could head the blood rushing through my body and my heart beat. All of a sudden everything went black. I could still hear but that was it, I couldn't even lift a finger, I couldn't feel a thing. I heard him say he was going to cut off my fingers one by one but I didn't think he meant it. He took something from the table and activated it, it sounded like a small operating saw, one of those circular things. The sound came closer and after a few seconds I could hear liquids falling onto the floor, little did I know that it was my own blood.

The bastard had cut of one of my fingers. He told me he would make sure I wouldn't die of loss of blood. I heard him take something else from the table, he activated it, although activating is not the right word. The bastard had taken a torch! A freakin' torch! This guy had to be crazy, he lit the gas and went over my finger, closing the wound. Of course, I was so drugged I didn't feel a thing. He then gave another shot with a syringe, I could feel stuff again and in a matter of seconds I could see, though the room was spinning real quick. What a drug, I was disorientated and after a second I started to scream in agony, I could feel the pain! That bastard had really cut of my finger! I would kick him if I could but my legs were also tied to the chair. He took another syringe and injected another drug into my body, all of a sudden everything seemed to go much slower and the colours looked like a negative. Damn that bastard, I had heard of this drug, it was a truth serum. He asked me what I was doing there and I replied with a funny response but I doubt he found it funny. I couldn't think clear anymore so I decided not to speak at all so I would avoid telling stuff to him. He took a wire cutter from the table and took off one of my shoes. I bend my head down and asked what he was going to do.

"Why, I'm going to cut of your toes of course, just like you requested."
"I didn't request anything you bastard!" "Oh but I am sure you did, I even have it on tape!"
Somehow I knew he was lying and told him to go cut off his private parts. He got mad as hell and threw the other chair across the room. He took another syringe from the table and injected me again.

I don't know what happened after that but I woke up in a cell that looked like the one I was in at first. I was strapped to a bed and couldn't move, not even a finger. I guess they drugged me again. I didn't know how long it was since I last saw that guy until the day of my rescue. Two allied soldiers ran into the room and stared at me. It was the best view I had seen in months. I wanted to laugh but I couldn't. One of the soldiers started to puke on the floor and the other ran out the room. After a while a general came into the room and immediately cried.
"What have they done to you my boy? What?"
"I..., I don't know sir, I replied. What's wrong with me sir?"
The general told me it was best I didn't see but I insisted and after a while he removed the restraints and held me up. That bastard! That bastard! That Soviet scum had cut off my fingers and placed them on my legs and my toes on my hands. And on top of that, he replaced my arms with my legs and vice versa.
I cried and shouted until I couldn't anymore. After a while I asked the general if he would please shoot me. He told me that everything would be okay but before he finished everything went black. Death had become me.

 

 

 



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