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The interrogators had made short work of Natalia, one of the two women captured alive in the raid carried out on information provided by Irina Savitsky. The mere suggestion of a harsh interrogation caused her to break down and provide a sizable amount of information to her captors -- much of which was validated by files and notes seized during the operation. She also admitted her role as an associate in a number of rebel attacks, claims that were also backed up by information they had obtained. Her tearful confession was recorded on video and archived for evidence at her eventual tribunal.
Komal, the other young woman seized in the raid, was not so easy. Captured files, corroborated with Natalia's information, indicated that she was second in command of the cell they had infiltrated. As such, she certainly had lots of information about collaborating rebel groups -- she just wasn't talking.
The interrogation proceeded brutally -- the guards forcibly stripped her, suspended her by the wrists, and tormented her body with beatings, electric shocks, and pliers.
The beautiful, brown-skinned woman was certainly not immune to the pain. She screamed and howled as much as any prisoner, but instead of providing information she responded with insults, taunts, and spitting in the face of her tormenters.
The interrogator began to feel as if he was wasting his time, and opted to approach the captive in a more indirect way. With the help of his assistants, he pulled out the iron horse: A triangular shaped bar of metal elevated some four feet off the ground with sturdy wooden legs. The men hoisted Komal off the ground and centered her on the point of the triangle. Using a pair of shackles dangling from the ceiling, they bound Komal's hands behind her back and retracted the shackles, raising her arms into an uncomfortable position and forcing her to lean forward. Komal groaned as all of her body weight pressed down upon her crotch, which rested on the narrow blade of metal. To make matters worse, the guards shackled her ankles with a spreader bar; from the spreader bar they hung a fifty-pound weight, adding to the force pressing between her labia.
"We'll check up on you a bit later," said the interrogator. He and the guards left the interrogation room, leaving Komal in silent agony. The seconds felt like hours as they passed by. Sweat glistened on every inch of her body. The pressure caused her vaginal fluids to flow for a time, but after awhile she dried out and the discomfort grew. Was that a trickle of blood she saw? Komal's breathing grew quicker and shallower as the pain in her arms, her back, her crotch became mind-numbing. What was she going to do? They knew she had information. Would they ever give up, or would they torture her until she confessed... or died?
The door finally swung open and the interrogator came back in. "Looks like you're having a grand old time!" he said. "Are you ready to talk yet?" Komal was silent.
"Oh, now, no reason to give me the silent treatment," the man said as he walked towards his prisoner. "You just need to tell me what you know, and this will all end."
"I told you before, I don't know anything," grunted the dazed Komal. "I was kept out of the loop..."
"I might entertain thoughts of believing that," said the interrogator. "Unfortunately, your friend Natalia provided us with a decent amount of information, and based on everything we've found out, you were more 'in the know' than her in your little cell."
"What the hell did you do to Natalia?" barked Komal between breaths. "I swear, if you laid a finger on her..."
"I assure you; we didn't hurt her one bit. She gave us lots of information, and quite easily," said the interrogator. "Now, what are you threatening to do if we hurt her? You're not exactly in a position to be making demands." As he spoke those words, he wrapped his hands around Komal's bruised but perfectly rounded breasts and gently rolled her swollen, dark nipples between his fingers.
"You seem to forget that you are in no position to stop us from doing anything to you." Komal, outraged at the indignity, mustered up the saliva to spit in the man's eyes. Angrily, the man stormed off to a cabinet at the back of the room and rummaged through its contents.
"I'll leave you with something before I leave again," the man said. He hung another fifty-pound weight between Komal's legs, making the pressure even more unbearable. Komal let out a quiet, drawn-out whimper. "A few more weights or a little more time and I think you'll be damaged for life... you might want to talk soon."
The man left her again. The pain in her wrists, her shoulders, her back, her crotch... it was too much to bear. Surely, this was as close as one could get to hell on earth. Could things get any worse?
Her question was answered after hours of painful solitude when the door to the room opened yet again. The interrogator entered the room, followed by two guards -- between them, they were dragging Natalia, who was crying and screaming beneath a hood that obscured her vision.
"You wouldn't!" screamed Komal. Natalia, at age twenty, was the youngest in their organization; Komal had served as a bit of a mentor to her. While eager to help, she had always been soft -- Komal couldn't envision her in this sort of situation. The guards ripped the hood from Natalia's head, and her eyes bulged at seeing her friend naked and suspended on the devilish contraption.
"No!" shrieked Natalia, struggling against the guards' grip. "Let her go!" One of the guards gave her a firm slap in the face, knocking her off balance. The other pinned her against the wall while he tore off her jumpsuit, leaving it in a crumpled heap on the floor. Natalia began to sob, trying to cover herself with her hands, but one of the guards grabbed her by her short-cropped blonde hair, banged her head against the stone wall, and threw her to the floor.
"I'll let you consider for awhile whether or not you want your friend to suffer in your place," the interrogator said. "In the meantime, I'll let you down." The interrogator walked to Komal and removed the weighted bar that connected her shackled ankles. She 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 can wait here and talk things over for awhile," the interrogator said. 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 Natalia had one of their ankles placed in a shackle, limiting their range of movement to a few feet. As the interrogator and guards left the room, they flipped off the lights and slammed the door shut.
Komal immediately leaned over to her side and grasped her crotch, which was still hurting like nothing she had ever experienced. 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. Natalia curled up into a ball, weeping softly.
"You're going to confess, right?" whispered Natalia with fear in her voice. "I can't go through this!"
"Wake up Natalia," 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 what's in store for us!" said Natalia. "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 Natalia. "And I'd like to hear you sing this same tune 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 surveillance camera positioned in the chamber. 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."
-----
Komal and Natalia slept through half a day of darkness and solitude before 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 Natalia.
"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 six feet away, staring at each other. Natalia 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 Natalia'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. Natalia's eyes bulged. "If at any time you want to talk, tell us. But take note: A 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 Natalia 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 Natalia as the guard repeatedly thrust into her. Occasionally she caught a glimpse of Natalia's face, and it was filled with shame and horror. Komal wondered if Natalia, who was rather plain-looking and introverted, was a virgin until now.
When the first guard finished, the second took his turn. And the third. And the fourth. Already, Natalia's voice was becoming hoarse as screams of protest turned into screams of pain as her natural lubrication dried out. 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." Natalia trembled in her bonds as blood and semen oozed down her inner thigh.
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 Natalia's left nipple and turned it on, holding it firmly in place despite Natalia'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 might 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 Natalia with the cruel instrument. Natalia 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 Natalia. "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.
"A 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 Natalia, who tried futilely to back away from him. Bending down, he held the torch's pointed blue flame towards Natalia's right inner thigh. Almost immediately the flesh began to char and Natalia let out an inhuman cry. Komal closed her eyes, but not even a second later, Natalia's cries were augmented with the interrogator letting out a high-pitched scream.
Komal opened her eyes. It seemed that previously, Natalia was too afraid of retribution if she struggled against her tormenters. Now, she figured things couldn't get any worse. The interrogator had dropped his guard after witnessing Natalia's docility, and she used the opportunity to deliver an unexpectedly powerful and well-timed thrust of her knee that knocked the blowtorch into the man's face. He fell to the ground, the torch rolling away from him.
Two of the guards rushed towards the scene, 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 Natalia sobbed, the two remaining guards sprung into action.
Motivated by revenge and lacking their superior's finesse, one of the guards held Natalia's legs in place while the other picked up the blowtorch and continued where the interrogator left off. This time Natalia 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. Natalia'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 want her alive for now!" the new interrogator yelled. The guards stopped and stood at attention as Natalia's 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 Natalia's bonds and she slumped to the ground, eyes shut, sobbing uncontrollably. They clumsily attempted to put her orange jumpsuit back on, causing her to wince and squirm as their hands inadvertently brushed her burns. They hoisted her between the two of them and dragged 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 equally beautiful younger 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 afraid you're going to share your sister's predicament."
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