Sincerity - Criminal Minds || Spencer Reid Fanfiction

6. Torture

"Nobody should be whipped. Remember that, once and for all. Neither man nor animal can be influenced by anything but suggestion." ― Mikhail Bulgakov.

The Fighter

I heard the keys jangle on the other side and I sat up on the concrete bed, preparing myself for whatever torture they were going to inflict on me.

"There she is!" Hart sang melodically, entering the room with a metal tray. "Dinner time, sweetie."

"Is that what you call it?" I spat. "Stale porridge and a banana?"

"Come now, is that you being ungrateful?" She sneered, hovering over me.

I weakly climbed to my feet, the chains around my wrists and ankles jangling as I done so.

"Absolutely not." I smiled a bloody-toothed smile at her and she smirked, shoving back onto the bed and smacking the tray down next to me.

She retreated to the doorway and leaned against the wall, her arms folded as she watched me, as always.

I winced as I chomped on the banana, my entire mouth exploding in red-hot pain.

They'd removed one of my teeth recently, and my mouth still hadn't recovered. I suspected I had some form of infection.

"Finally!" She jeered as I shoved the final mouthful of porridge over with a forceful gulp.

"I thought you'd never finish!" She came over to me and collected the tray, and as always my stomach lurched with dread and fear as I knew what was coming next.

They always waited until I'd finished my meal of the day before unleashing their torture.

Hart would deliver the 'food', watch me as I ate, collect the tray and then Caitlyn would enter.

She'd be wearing all black leather and gloves, and would be carrying tools for Hart to use. She'd stand by the door and watch as Hart tortured me, laughing and covered in blood, as Caitlyn spat questions at me.

Occasionally, they'd even use the food tray. The next day at mealtime, my blood would still be there, smudged and dry next to the porridge.

At first, I'd thrown up at the sight of it. But now I was used to it, the stale vomit in the corner of the room reminded me to swallow my nausea.

"I don't know... why... you're doing this..." I panted in between strikes from the metal baton Hart was using on me today.

"How many times Melanie?" Caitlyn sneered. "You have information that we need."

"What information?!" I cried, only to receive a deep blow to my face from Hart's fist.

"Ainsley!" Caitlyn hissed, and Hart turned, shaking out her fist. "What did we talk about?"

"Face blows Monday, Wednesday, Friday, body blows Tuesday Thursday." Hart rhymed, flexing her knuckles as she walked around me.

I spat blood on the floor in front of me, licking the inside of my cheek to clear it of blood. They had me chained to a chair now; the norm for their torture periods.

"And what else?" Caitlyn pressed, her gaze heavy on Hart.

"Serious blows on weekends." Hart added carefully.

"Whenever you're done going over the timetable, could somebody answer my question?" I reminded them I was in the room and Hart rounded on me, launching a firm kick to my thigh, sending the chair backwards so I fell onto the concrete floor, the air fleeing from my lungs.