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Komal tried to provide the most vague information as possible. The interrogator scribbled on his handheld computer as she fed him a stories of aborted plots, names of rebels who had recently died, false information that would be nearly impossible to confirm, and mostly irrelevant truths.
Her breathing had become quite strained by this point as the pain became more unbearable by the minute. "I told you what I know... can you please let me down?" In response, the interrogator walked to Komal and unscrewed the breast crusher. The return of circulation to her breasts burned and she winced a bit as the interrogator removed the weighted bar that connected her shackled ankles. Komal breathed a sigh of relief.
The interrogator then released the binds on her wrists. Just as Komal brought her hands in front of her to take the pressure off of her most sensitive areas, he gave her a firm shove; she fell off the back of the horse and smacked her head on the hard floor.
"You two are going to wait here until I see that some of your information checks out," the interrogator says. The guards assisting him pulled the two naked women to the side of the room, where several shackles were fixed to the wall with chains. Both Komal and Sasha had one of their ankles placed in a shackle, limiting their range of movement to a few feet.
"You two might want to get some rest," the interrogator said. "Especially if the information you gave me turns out to be false. The girl who told us about your hiding place tried that, and she certainly regrets it now." He flipped off the lights in the room and slammed the door shut.
Komal immediately leaned over to her side and grasped her crotch, which was still hurting like hell. She felt a bit of blood on her fingers, and held her hands tight in a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding and the pain. Sasha curled up into a ball, weeping softly.
"We aborted the plot to bomb the finance ministry months ago!" whispered Sasha with anger in her voice. "And the Rykovs were killed last week! Have you forgotten? Or are you trying to get us killed?"
"Wake up Sasha," grunted Komal. "You... me... we're irrelevant. We're probably dead anyway. You think they're going to set a few so-called terrorists free anytime soon... or ever? We're probably going to hang, no matter how cooperative we are. But our movement... it has to continue!"
"I'd prefer hanging over this!" said Sasha. "We can go relatively peacefully or we can be tortured to a bloody pulp. Seems like you prefer the latter!"
"Shut up!" barked Komal. "Stop being selfish... it's not about us. It's about the billions of people who will live out better lives if we succeed. Have you forgotten that?"
"The dead don't care about nobility and freedom," said Sasha. "And I'd like to hear you sing this same tune tomorrow, when they're ... tearing you limb from limb." She curled up and wept until she finally fell asleep from exhaustion. Komal found herself uncontrollably nodding off not long after.
The interrogator watched the entire exchange thanks to the hidden video camera positioned in the chamber. Just as he suspected. This immigrant bitch was going to be difficult.
"I need you to find everything you know about the difficult one," he said to a subordinate. "You have eight hours."
---
Only four hours after nodding off, the door to the chamber opened up and the bright overhead lights were turned on. The two women groggily awoke from their slumber.
"How long have we..." muttered Sasha.
"Shut up," said the interrogator. He nodded to the four guards that accompanied him; they quickly removed the bonds around the womens' ankles and, despite their protests and squirms, secured each of their wrists to overhead shackles that retracted into the ceiling, hosting them six inches from the floor. They hung, perhaps ten feet away, staring at each other. Sasha had obvious dread in her eyes, while Komal attempted to maintain an air of defiance.
"It's unfortunate, Komal, that bad things sometimes happen to good people," the interrogator sneered. "But because of your insolence, I'm afraid that some very bad things are going to happen to your friend." As he spoke, he pulled the cap off a syringe and injected something into Sasha's thigh.
"That was a powerful stimulant to make sure your friend is fully alert for the next few hours," the interrogator said with an indifferent tone. Sasha's eyes bulged. "If at any time you want to talk, tell us. But take note: Another false confession will make things very bad for her indeed. So... let's begin."
As soon as he finished talking, one of the guards walked up to Sasha and casually dropped his pants down to his ankles. Her view was mostly obscured by the guard, but Komal could hear every pathetic plea and cry from Sasha as the guard repeatedly thrust into her. Occasionally she caught a glimpse of Sasha's face, and it was filled with shame.
When the first guard finished, the second took his turn. And the third. And the fourth. Already, Sasha's voice was becoming hoarse. Komal tried to avert her eyes, but the interrogator turned her back towards the gruesome scene. When she tried to close her eyes, he pried her eyelids open.
"I gotta give it to you," said the interrogator. "You are one coldhearted and unsympathetic bitch, you know that?" Komal tried to spit in his face, but missed. I see we're wasting our time by going easy on your friend. I guess we'll just have to ramp up quickly." Sasha trembled in her bonds.
The interrogator grabbed a cylindrical device from a table full of gruesome instruments. "This is a cattle prod," he said. "It outputs three hundred thousand volts. Very painful, so I've heard, but not deadly. Usually." The interrogator pushed it right against Sasha's left nipple and turned it on, holding it in place despite Sasha's squirming and tormented screams. When he finally pulled it away, her flesh was deeply reddened. Immediately he went to work on her right nipple, eliciting the same reaction.
"You probably know that any sort of wetness decreases the skin's resistance and increases the current," said the interrogator, looking over his shoulder towards Komal. "I'd say your friend's... nether regions are still probably pretty wet, wouldn't you?"
Komal screamed "NO!" as loud as she could, but the interrogator coldly penetrated her with the cruel instrument. Sasha shook vehemently all over and began dry-heaving as she screamed, her voice now extremely raspy. When the interrogator finally stopped, she hung limply in her restraints.
"Komal... please..." muttered Sasha. "I would never put you through this..." Komal tried to fight back tears. Surely they couldn't do much worse than they already had. Quietly, she prayed that the men would put both of them out of their misery.
But it was not to be. The man walked back to the table and returned with a device consisting of little more than a canister attached to a large nozzle.
"Kerosene blowtorch burns at two hundred and eighty degrees Celsius, Komal," the man said. "At that temperature... well, your friend will develop third-degree burns. It's just a matter of how many you want her to have."
He ignited the torch and approached Sasha, who tried futilely to back away from him. Bending down, he raised the torch towards one of her thighs. Almost immediately the flesh began to char and Sasha let out an inhuman cry. Komal closed her eyes, but not even a second later, Sasha's cries were augmented with the interrogator letting out a high-pitched scream.
Komal opened her eyes. It seemed that the interrogator, having grown used to the girl's docility, was not expecting her to resist. But an unexpected and well-timed thrust of her knee knocked the blowtorch into the man's face. He fell to the ground, the torch rolling away from him.
Two of the guards sprung into action, grabbing the interrogator by his arms and rushing him out of the room for treatment. "MAKE HER PAY!" he bellowed as he was assisted into the hallway. As Sasha sobbed, the two remaining guards sprung into action.
Motivated by revenge and lacking their superior's finesse, one of the guards held Sasha's legs in place while the other picked up the blowtorch and continued where the interrogator left off. This time Sasha could do nothing to resist as the guard painfully scorched her extremities, charring patches of flesh across her arms and legs. Komal, unable to bear the carnage, screamed that she would tell the interrogators everything they needed to know -- but they weren't interested. Sasha's screams had turned into gasps and sobs as she lost her voice, but the stimulants ensured she remained awake.
After what seemed like an eternity -- but was only a matter of minutes in reality -- the door to the room opened once again. A new interrogator saw the grisly scene and barked orders for the guards to immediately stop.
"Clumsy idiots! You're gonna kill her, and we'll all catch hell for it!" the new interrogator yelled. The guards stopped and stood at attention as Sasha's partially scorched body hung limply, whimpering. "Good Lord... take her down, get her clothes back on... take her to the medical ward right away. Tell 'em something, anything... just don't tell them what you were doing!"
Working quickly, the guards released Sasha's bonds and she slumped to the ground, sobbing. They clumsily attempted to put her orange jumpsuit back on, causing her to wince as their hands inadvertently brushed her burns. They hoisted her between the two of them and drug her limp body out of the room.
The interrogator turned his attention to Komal. "Now... you've been real difficult, and it doesn't seem that you care about yourself or your friend. But you *will* talk." Komal scoffed defiantly.
The interrogator motioned a silent order to the two guards, who left the room. A few minutes later, they returned with a third person -- still dressed in street clothes, her wrists and ankles bound with cuffs. Komal's eyes bulged and she gasped.
"You didn't tell us you had a little sister in town," the interrogator said with a grin as 19-year old Asha, Komal's sister, was led into the room. Upon the sight of her sister, nude, bruised, and hanging from the ceiling, Asha's jaw dropped open and she let out a cry.
"You can't do this! She's innocent! She had nothing to do with us!" cried Komal, squirming as tears ran down her eyes. "Please! You can't do anything with her!"
"I'm afraid I can," said the interrogator. "I admit that I have no interest, but... we really want you to tell us what you know." He turned to his guards. "Get her ready!"
Asha yelped as the guards pushed her into the room and removed the cuffs holding her wrists and ankles together.
"Now, Asha... hopefully your sister will start talking," said the interrogator. "If she doesn't, I'm going to have to ask you to undress. And if you don't, my men can always do it for you."
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