Insurrection [On Hold]

36 A New Way to Interrogate

         I'm led into a room painted all white. Add fluorescent lighting in and the room hurts my eyes. Shoved into a metal chair positioned behind its matching table, my ankles are cuffed to the legs of the chair as blue light wraps around my skin. I move my eyes, not my head, to look around the room. Two doors--one of which I came through. No torture weapons. Video cameras hang in each corner. The lack of weapons makes me nervous for what they're planning.

Maxon and Jareth stare down at me from the other side of the table.

"Might as well start by asking you"-- Jareth presses his palms into the table-- "if you would like to go ahead and confess."

"Confess that I was supposed to be in your prison rotting to my death?"

Maxon walks around the table to stand behind me. "We know you're strong and that conventional methods would just be unnecessarily bloody." He digs his fingers into my shoulders, his skin touching my nightgown and not my flesh. "But how emotionally strong are you?"

I used to be strong in that way, but lately I've been cracking. My whole life I've had to put on a strong face and ignore the wounds from harsh words and abandonment, especially from those who should love me such as my parents. The past month has been a little harder to handle—being told to hang someone you care about—finding out your father doesn't care if you yourself hang or not doesn't build you up.

"Why would I tell you that?" I ask Maxon.

His fingers pinch a nerve around my collarbone, causing my neck and shoulders to lock for a split second. "Just so we can create a timeline for how long this will take."

Jareth leans forward on his arms. "This has the potential to last for days."

Don't let them see fear or apprehension. I roll my eyes. "You both think you're a lot scarier than you actually are."

Jareth chuckles, shaking his head. "You may change your mind after a couple of days. We aren't going to let you sleep."

Doesn't sound too bad. Miserable, yeah, but compared to the rack, this isn't scary. "So you aren't cutting off my fingers and toes?"

Maxon leans toward my ear. "Too bloody and once they're all gone what do we cut off next? Your ears? Nose? No, this method isn't something you're used to. While not sleeping may take a while to kill you, there are other side effects."

"Care to name them?" I ask Maxon.

"With pleasure, Princess. You'll hallucinate. You'll begin to question if what you're seeing is real or if it's a dream. You won't know if you're talking to us or yourself. You'll cry. Your emotions will be chaotic. Every time you doze off we'll wake you right back up. You'll get angry; you'll yell and try to attack us, but you'll be stuck to this chair."

"Fine, but it seems like a waste of time." I'm not breaking. They won't find out that in a month is when I'm supposed to be broken out. Because if Lumiere—Gale or any of my brothers—still come for me, I won't have Quill prepared.

"Let the games begin then." Jareth rubs the words in.

I meet his stare. "Let the games begin."

Stepping back, Jareth leans against the wall. "I'll take the first shift, Maxon."

Maxon heads out the door without a word.

I look back at Jareth whose neck cracks. I'm not sure who I'd rather be stuck with.

"What's in the other door?" I ask.

"An underground tub. You know what that is for, don't you? Or should I explain?"

I don't answer.

"It's another way to get you to talk."

"By drowning me? Sounds efficient."

He smiles. "Don't worry, Princess Raksana. That won't be for a few more days."