These Violent Delights

Chapter 7: Coward

WARNINGS: physical assault (attacked in retaliation) 

—

Since you had been taken, all you'd done was wait.

For food, refresher privileges, sleep and company. That's what you were waiting for now, your next visitor. Shivering against the interrogation chair in the beige, bulky sack they called a shirt, you were literally freezing your ass off since it only reached your knees. You thought it was a rag when they had first chucked it at you.

"Your new uniform, Resistance slut." 

When you had asked for a bra and underwear, the Stormtroopers laughed, insisting that the Supreme Leader decided you didn't need undergarments.

Of course.

Being the big, sick fuck he was, that made sense. What didn't make sense was why the hell you were still alive. The Supreme Leader had already stolen intel about D'Qar and the very little information you had on Luke Skywalker. You had nothing else to offer him. At least, that's how you saw it, but Kylo did everything in his power to keep you alive.

Your wounds had healed nicely, thanks to the nurse he periodically sent to your cell, and you were fed well with three meals a day. If you had a request—besides being let out of this atrocious contraption—your needs would be met. Mostly. The only thing he refused to give you was information. You had no idea what had happened to your team and the Resistance when the First Order went to your base, and the sense of helplessness was beginning to wear on you.

So, you did what you had to in order to survive. You shut it out. You told yourself they were dead, something you assumed would be your own fate every morning when you opened your eyes. But even though he had visited your cell every day for a week, not once had he come close to actually killing you. All he did was harass you about Luke and Exegol and General Organa over and over and over again.

It was like clockwork, and even though you hated watching him waltz through those doors and the way his low, modified voice sent shivers down your spine, you had grown accustomed to seeing him daily. It was part of your routine. But it was already mid-day, and you hadn't seen him since yesterday when he unlatched you from your restraints. Followed by your mega-meltdown, which, in hindsight, had been low-key embarrassing. Before that, you were handling this entire taken-by-a-psychopath thing pretty well, but then Kylo called you Kitten, and you truly wanted to end it all right then and there.

You knew he called you that to annoy the ever-living shit out of you, leading you to believe that was his motivation for everything. Kylo Ren was keeping you alive simply for his own amusement, not unlike a bored sociopath that found a shiny new plaything. You shuddered. Over the years, you had heard rumors that the Supreme Leader had become less temperamental, but now that you could observe him yourself, you weren't buying it. While he was calm and collected in his efforts to break you down, you sensed something simmering just below the surface. You could see it in the way his chest swelled with heavy exhales, his voice full of muted rage as his entire body tensed, as though his power was brimming beneath his skin and waiting to unleash.

Kylo himself didn't scare you all that much, but the risk of being near someone with his type of power put you on edge. He was a huge, imposing lunatic, filled with dark, domineering energy. Unbalanced and emotional. You had never trusted anyone that let themselves feel so much emotion. No. It was too dangerous, and your captor seemed to have a hard time controlling it. Just like yesterday when he had held your wrists so tightly, pulling your body to his, almost sounding passionate when he offered to take you to his quarters. Like he wanted to care for you as a little pet, his kitten.

You cringed. He truly was a monster, unhinged and unpredictable, and he was coming for you—you just had no kriffing idea when. But then, speaking of the devil, in came your favorite person. You groaned, wanting to kick your own ass for manifesting his presence. But you couldn't do that. You could barely even move. All you could do was look up at the ceiling to ignore him.

"Hello, Kitten. I've come to have a little chat with you." You started to hum, eliciting his exasperated sigh. "Since you're being stubborn today, I'll cut right to it."

You rolled your eyes. "Yay-oh-my-stars-can't-wait."

"I have a proposition for you," he continued, still taking slow steps toward you. "I need access to the deepest part of your psyche. Submit to me and let me in, and you will increase your odds of survival."

Your eyes swung to his mask, your face twisted in confusion. "What in the actual fuck would you need deep in my psyche? What does that even mean?"

"That's classified."

"Of course it is." You snorted, blowing a piece of hair off your face. "Okay, fine. Say I let you in my head, or whatever, what's in it for me?"

"I said, the chance of survival."

You pursed your lips. "Eh. Got anything else?"

Kylo hesitated. "No."

"Then nah, I'm good." You shrugged. "You can kill me now."

"I would love to kill you now," he uttered, voice strained through his mask as he came to a stop before you. "But I am giving you a rare opportunity, one I have never given a prisoner before. Mercy."

You considered him for a moment. "You wouldn't offer me mercy unless there was something in it for you...so, nah, I'd rather fight and make this harder on you."

Kylo cocked his head to the side. "You understand I will take what I want from you, even without your submission, correct?"

"Mhm."

"And you will be granted mercy if you submit. I might even spare your life, if your mind is still intact after I'm through with you. But fight me, and you will suffer more than you can comprehend. That—you understand?"

"Yup."

He shifted his stance, agitation rolling off him. "So, you would willingly endure extreme physical and mental pain in order to make things minimally more difficult for me?"

You flashed him a charming smile. "Absolutely."

"Fine," he said, abruptly unshackling your restraints with a wave of his hand. He spun around, walking away from you. "Let's get started."

With a yelp, your feet touched the ground, and you fought to keep yourself steady as Kylo approached the exit. "Where we going? Just kill me in here and be done with it."

"You need to break first," he said, smashing the control panel to open the blast doors. He waited a moment before looking at you from over his shoulder, speaking to you with a tight, controlled voice. "This is your last chance to minimize your suffering, M421. I advise you to take it."

If you didn't feel so dizzy from the sheer effort of holding your own weight up, you'd probably be concerned. But all you could focus on was curling your fingers around the edges of the interrogation device, trying to stay upright. "Nah. Mama didn't raise no quitter." You paused before cackling deliriously, your head lolling against the chair. "Actually, mama didn't raise me at all, but I digress."

Kylo gave an impatient jerk of his head, gesturing through the doors. "Enough. Follow me."

You narrowed your eyes at him, seriously doubting you'd be able to follow him even if you wanted to. "I need a minute," you said through gritted teeth, "your little pet isn't ready for a walk yet."

Kylo's mask lingered on your face before he pulled out his datapad. You eyed him as he started pacing, taking in how fucking massive he looked, even from across the room. You were used to seeing him from the perspective of a few inches higher while you were strapped to the chair, but with your feet on the ground, his broad shoulders seemed to stretch the entire span of the exit. And without his robes that usually spilled behind him like matte black paint, you could see just how tall and wide the motherfucker was.

You stiffened, your back peeling off the chair when you realized his missing attire revealed something much more important: his lightsaber clipped to his side and your vibroblade right under it.

Your heart jumped to your throat, and your eyes locked on your knife. His robes had kept the weapons hidden, but now they looked easily accessible, only loosely attached to his sheath. Then, when the shrill ring of his datapad pierced the air and Kylo engaged in a quick back and forth with a First Order officer, you weren't sure he even remembered you were behind him. He was too busy barking at his subordinate.

The Supreme Leader halted, standing unsettlingly still with his back to you, and you knew what you had to do. You cleared your mind as you took timid steps toward him, refusing to map out the plan in your head; you didn't want him to pick up on your thoughts. As though you were on autopilot, you made it across the room and stood right behind him. Slowly, so slowly, you extended your hand toward the knife.

You held your breath. Kylo was still on the phone, his agitation growing as the First Order officer sputtered on the other line, giving you your one and only chance. Without thinking, you acted. Adrenaline pounded in your head as your fingers grazed the hilt for one sweet moment. Then the Supreme Leader turned around.

"You little fool," Kylo growled, placing a palm on your chest and shoving you backward. The push sent you flying across the room until you came to a blunt halt, your spine crashing into the interrogation chair. You yelled as you made contact with the metal, hard and fast, trying to use the momentum to push off of it and attack, but it was too late. Within seconds, he was in front of you again with his hand over your face. "You will suffer greatly for this."

Like a passive observer in your own mind, you felt your lips move around the words you did not want to say. "I will suffer greatly for this."

"You will not sleep."

Of course not. "I will not sleep."

He tore his hand away and stepped closer, breaking your trance. His voice was eerily quiet through his mask. "Even when you're about to collapse, even when you can't see straight...I do not grant you permission to succumb to rest." He took two shaky breaths. "Do you understand me, M421?"

Your mouth went dry, eyes widening. "No."

He grabbed your face. "Yes."

"No!" you screamed, lunging forward and throwing all of your weight into him. He barely moved, even as you smashed his chest with your fists. "Fuck you, fuck you! Just kill me already, you stupid fucking Jedi!"

In the blink of an eye, Kylo ignited his lightsaber.

You stumbled back as he zeroed in on you, forcing you against the chair again. Angry, red sparks of heat buzzed off his weapon, spitting dangerously close to your face. You whimpered, trying to pivot your head as far away from it as possible, but it was useless—he moved the blade in sync with you.

With your head turned to the side, you tried to face the man that was about to end your life. But it was nearly impossible to see anything other than the violent glow of his lightsaber, it's cackling and humming almost as deafening as the red was blinding, but you could make out the visor of his mask fixed unwaveringly upon you.

"What are you waiting for?" you shouted, staying as still as you could—if you moved an inch, you'd come in contact with his saber. "Huh? Just do it already!"

Kylo twisted the hilt in his hand, rotating the blade so it hovered right below your chin. You closed your eyes and tried to shrink back, but you could already feel the heat from the scorching edge burning your skin. You wanted to yell at him, but you could barely breathe like this, let alone speak. You screamed at him within your mind instead.

Get on with it, you fucking coward! Just kill me already!

The Supreme Leader pulled his lightsaber away from your face and pointed it at the ground. "Get on your knees."

You gawked at him. "Excuse me?"

"I said," he seethed, using his free hand to grip the space where your shoulder and neck met, "get on your knees."

Legs still frail, it only took a single push for him to get you on the ground. You hissed as your knees slammed into the floor, trying to scramble to your feet, but his lightsaber was already in your face again.

Without lifting your head, you brought your eyes to his mask and snarled. "If you're going to kill me, at least look me in the eye and do it."

Kylo didn't say or do anything. The only sound in the room was his hissing blade and you, panting as you knelt before him, waiting to die. Your eyes darted between his mask and the hand wrapped around his hilt. He kept flexing and unflexing his fingers, constantly repositioning his grip around his weapon as if he didn't know what to do next.

Knowing full well it would propel you onto death's path quicker, you laughed at him. "The mighty Kylo Ren has no idea how to use a lightsaber. How cute."

With an untamed yell, he swung the blade up, and you squeezed your eyes shut. It's okay, it's okay, it'll all be over soon, you chanted to yourself over and over, holding your breath as if you were too stubborn to take your last. The sound of fabric rustling made you tense, but just as you thought your life was coming to an end, the humming of his saber stopped.

You opened your eyes to see Kylo clipping his weapon back onto his belt. That final breath you had been holding came rushing through your lips, and you fell sideways on your ass. "What...why didn't you...?"

"We're not done yet," he said, keeping his mask pointed at your face. "You will submit to me before I kill you."

"Like fuck I will," you shot back, frustrated tears welling in your eyes. You slapped them away and struggled to stand up. "You can't make me give you anything."

"We'll see," is all he said before whipping around and striding toward the blast doors. After they opened for him, he turned to the Stormtroopers and calmly said, "Restrain her. Tightly."

"Yes, sir!"

As the Stormtroopers approached you, you scrambled to your feet and backed away, keeping your sights on the back of the Supreme Leader. "The next time you see me, you better kill me, Kylo Ren. Before I kill you."

Your captor stopped, dipping his cold, hard mask over his shoulder toward you. "Sleep well, pet." With that, Kylo walked away, his arms inflated by his side and his hands balled into fists.

The Stormtroopers dragged you to the interrogation chair, but you didn't struggle. You didn't have it in you. All you did was hang your head and cry.