Silence in the Storm

Nerve Laceration.

⚠️Alert: violence, torture

The terrorists dragged me around like I was piece of cloth. My head was covered with a filthy pillowcase; the smell was nauseating. After walking around Gods knows for how long, I've been finally thrown somewhere; the floor was cold and with some rough marks that I couldn't identify.
After unsufferable minutes, someone aggressively pulled the pillowcase out of my head and left abruptly. Finally, some decent air to breathe! I looked around and it seemed like a container with welded windows. The heat started to pick up, and it became a bit difficulty to breathe. I was feeling sticky, dirty, feverish. Suddenly the container door opened, making a screeching noise. Sunlight invaded the place, making me go blind for a moment.

A man wearing a worn out tunic and tactical vest had slowly approached me, staring me intently. Whatever he was seeking on me, I was honestly doubting that he would find anything. He calmly picked up a spare plastic chair and sat in front of me. He took a deep breath and started talking.

- My english is simple, forgive me if I sound... What's the word...? Ah... Difficult to understand.

- ... ...

- You're with the soldiers, right?

- ... ...

- You have voice. You better start talking.

- ... ...

It was sudden.
Such slap made my face be invaded by a sharp pain and my neck hurt with the quick spin. I gasped loudly while falling on the container floor. My eyes drowned in salty tears; burning my eyes. I slowly tried to glance at the terrorist, that calmly crouched in front of me, unfazed by my reluctance to talk. He cupped my face with his hand and lifted my whole body roughly; my trachea stretched too fast, hurting altogether.

- I made a question, woman. Answer.

- I'm... I'm just their medic...

- Liar.

Another foul slap. I felt the skin of my lips slit once more. The insides of my cheek were cut by my own teeth; the taste of blood invaded my tastebuds. I couldn't hold my cries any longer. That was painful and degrading; I didn't have the mental capacity to withstand such treatment.

He grabbed a handful of my ponytail and made me get up. He threw me back at the chair; I nearly got hurt trying to balance myself. I was scared, vulnerable and in unspeakable pain. He was slowly hovering around me, contemplating over what he would do next. The powerlessness was consuming my entire being; any movement made was bringing me chills. The terrorist sat on the chair once again, and this time he seemed impatient.

- You are stubborn, like any women out there.

- ... ...

- Just tell me... You're with the soldiers?

-... Yes.

- See? It's not that hard! - he lined out a large smile. - If you're with the soldiers, you know about the weapons cache.

- I'm a medic... I don't know about any cache...

- Ah, you were doing well... Wrong answer.

And another slap landed on my sore face. I guess I felt a tooth get loose. My right arm hurt like hell; I feel over still attached to the chair. The zip ties were bruising my wrists badly. I couldn't stop crying; the mixture of emotions invading me were overwhelming. I had to spit the clump of blood that was marinating in my mouth, but I got lifted abruptly by my wrists and nearly choked. The pain was undescribable. I truly thought that my shoulder sockets would snap and dislocate, left hanging by the nerves and muscles.
My heart was racing; pounding in such speed that was making my chest hurt. Breathing was laborious, some blood with sweat was coming up my nostrils. The terrorist was aggravated at this point, orbiting around me on heavy steps, heavily breathing. Although mentally exhausted I was still panic stricken, trying to juggle the remaining energy left in my body to comprehend what could be happening in my surroundings.