Date: April 9, 2010
Through with playing, Cody steps up her handle of Emily.
"Let the Games Begin"
Secret Safehouse of DOOM
In her cocoon, Emily is unable to move. Once relocated to the safehouse, she was laid on the basement floor and a straw was fitted through the cocoon and between her lips. Every hour on the hour, she was given exactly four ounces of water. No food, no bathroom breaks. She is now going on 48 hours without a proper toilet or food.
At one point her water started to taste a little funny, medicated. The fact that she hasn't been getting proper nutrition, it's pretty much assumed that the woman is gulping it down anyway, especially since the water disappears from the cup. Where Cody managed to procure the Mirtazapine is unknown, but eventually, Emily will be lulled into a drug induced stupor.
Inside the cocoon, like it would much matter anyway, Emily's found her apetite stimulated, but her mind getting fuzzy. She can't move much inside that hair cocoon without causing pain, but thanks to the drugs, the edge is taken off. That's especially good for the barely-treated gunshot wound to her leg, which is likely starting to get a bit infected and what have you. She keeps drinking the water, of course, but she's getting very hungry, among other things.
When the water stops draining from the cup, the prisoner is moved. When Emily finally wakes up she will find that she is ball gagged and handcuffed to a metal chair, she's been bathed and cleaned up, and her gunshot wound has been treated a little better. There's an IV hooked up to her arm that's giving her just enough antibiotics and nutrients to keep her from starving to death. She is also completely bald. Completely.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Emily. Time to start giving a few answers." The voice is the familiar one of the agent, though because of the light that's shining over her head, it's difficult to see past the yellow circle it casts on the bare cement floor.
The chair is rather uncomfortable. It's cold metal, it's not padded, and the forced posture sucks big time. The flimsy little hospital gown that she's been forced into does little to pad her butt or keep the chin from the dark, damp, wherever-the-hell they are away. When addressed, Emily manages to lift her head enough to look at Cody, blinking into the light. One advantage of being hairless now is that there's no strands of hair to fall over her eyes and make it hard to see as her neck bobs around.
"Mmmmpppphhh," is her response to Cody, seeing as how the ball gag in her mouth keeps her from speaking. It also forces her to breath, snort really, through her nose.
"Now that we have no witnesses…" Cody begins, the swinging light is rather annoying, but it is necessary… for now.
There's the sound of water starting and then after a pause where the water is running through the hose, there's a splatter at the prisoner's feet. The entire area around her chair is soaked before the water is finally shut off. It's cold, very cold, and probably not very comfortable against Emily's bare feet.
The agent moves closer and then darts forward, plunging a hypodermic needle full of solution into the woman. As quickly as it takes to pump the fluid into her system, Cody's out of reach again. There's a minute of silence before Cody steps forward again and removes the gag from Emily's mouth. "Now we'll get started. Tell me the names of the men you're working for."
"I told you…what I know. There was only one man…Fariq, if that's his real name. I'm too low on the totem pole to know his employers name." Plausible deniability FTW! With the ball gag out, she does stretch her jaw a bit, opening and closing it, moving it side to side. "Still scared of what I can do though, I see." Yes, yes, that water IS cold, but she curls her toes up and does the best she can to lift her feet out of it, not wanting to give Cody the pleasure; it's a matter of principle now.
What Emily can't see is the set of jumper cables attached to the back legs of her chair. "Don't be stupid Emily, you didn't tell me anything. This is the first time you've mentioned Fariq by name. So I think I'll give you a little taste of what happens when you lie to me." Yes, Cody is familiar with the man, his name, and his photograph but for now his employee needs to become aware of what she has in store for her.
Cody moves forward again and replaces the gag in the woman's mouth and stands in the middle of the water before holding up what looks to be a switch. With one thumb, she flips it and the light above Emily's head begins to dim as the current is diverted through the prisoner's body.
Three seconds, that's what she gets this time. Then the switch is flipped off and Cody removes the gag. "Now, tell me the truth. Every time I think you're lying or playing a game with me, you get another three seconds added on. Trust me, you don't want to get to sixty."
There's a sharp snap as the switch is flipped. From somewhere in the dark of the room, there's the buzz and hum of electrical components as the voltage is forced through the woman's body. In the the chair, her muscles clench, her body stiffens and twitches about for the durations of the shock. It looks for all the world like she's having a terrible seizure…until the current stops.
Immediately following, she slumps forward, twitching a little bit yet, and breathing very deeply through her nose. Something is mumbled about the gag, which is going to delay the process if they have to keep putting it in, taking it out, putting it in ad infinitum.
The ball gag is removed and Cody just looks down at Emily, "What did you want to tell me?" The agent's tone of voice is pleasant, if not a little cold. She steps away from the other woman and just outside of the circle of light.
"I was…going to ask…" she pants. "If I give you the answers you want to hear, do I get three seconds shaved off of my time?" Then she starts to smirk a bit. "Also. That tickled." Emily blinks a few times, and stretches her neck out; she's there for the long haul…
The intervals of electrocution mount, until they ramp up to 45 seconds at a time. Proving Emily not the one in control, every time she gives a piece of information that Cody deems valuable, she gets a drink of water. When she doesn't, another three seconds is added. It's all very methodical and notes are being taken.
Then Cody removes the gag and narrows her eyes at the woman. "You have fifteen seconds left before you become a permanent drooling idiot. Tell me what I want to hear, or you'll get sixty seconds and I'll toss you into the first insane asylum I run across."
The IV containing the antibiotics has long since been removed and the bullet that had been carefully extracted from her leg has been replaced by a metal spike complete with its own jumper cable attached.
Control. It's all about control for some people. Emily's one of them. Before, there had been some measure of it; she could frustrate Cody, she could choose whether or not the punishments got worse, and there was some measure of control to it all. Now though…well, that's a little different. Little bits and pieces of information that she thought was important enough to reduce the shock interval apparently wasn't good enough for Cody, and the times got longer. Heck, sometimes they got longer by a second or two here and there just for fun…not like she's counting though!
The addition of the metal spike in that painful wound has really been the catalyst for Emily giving answers at all…it's like sticking a hot iron rod into the wound, as the current really, really aggrivates the inflamed, infected flesh there. In addition to the writhing and twitching on the chair, Emily is now screaming quite painfully around the gag. Each time the current stops, she really slumps, breath growing more ragged and heavy as the current is starting to play more drawn-out games with her muscles once it's cut."F-fuck…fine. President…leaving early…the 15th. 4:30 pm…on the 15th. It's not on the schedule." Emily pants as she speaks, giving out something (that she figures is) important; a time and a date. Not hard to figure out where the Pres is supposed to be that day; any website would have it.
For that bit of information, Emily gets a little drink of water. Exactly one ounce. "Tell me where he's going and what you're supposed to do to him." Emily may have figured it was important enough, but it's not for Cody. The agent now has a tense jaw and a permanent scowl when dealing with the woman. She no longer cares whether the terrorist protecting piece of trash lives or dies.
Once again the gag is threatened to be placed back into her mouth. "I want every detail of everything you have ever planned with these people. I'm tired of the bullshit from you. Once we hit 48 seconds, I'm taking your leg off. Then we can start all over again."
"I'm not supposed to do anything with him. I was supposed to be in control of him then, leaving at that time. Why? I don't fucking know! I don't! Agents on the inside were supposed to handle…whatever is going to go down. ARGH, let me out of this thing, you bitch!" No, no, Emily would like to keep her leg, thank you very much. "I told you what I know! Fariq. The house. The plan. They just wanted the President to be a pawn and have his actions and shit be predictable." Controlled. "They didn't tell me SHIT past that!"
Emily is leveled a steely gaze and the gag is placed back into her mouth. "You said a naughty word… bad girl." Once the gag is secured, the switch is flipped again and it's left for 51 seconds. 6 seconds added to the last time and 9 away from permanent damage. Though the good news is, it's 3 seconds past the time her leg was supposed to be removed.
All the while, Cody is watching a stop watch and not the woman. It's very likely that the leg might need to be amputated or at least rebuilt due to muscle damage alone. When the switch is flipped off, the IV is taken out of Emily's arm and the light is switched off. Then, darkness and no sound.
This time, even around the gag, Emily screams. "Stop!…BITCH! Let me out of this chair! You…have to…UNGH!!" Emily bites her lip and groans out as the shock subsides and the pain in leg becomes excruciating. "ARGH…FUCK…you ruined my leg!!" It's true…she can't really move it; not even half as much as she was able to when it was just a gunshot wound. The only thing Emily can hear are her own words and raspy pants echoing in this room, the dripping of water, and the skitter of rats. "I told you want…LET ME THE FUCK OUT! FIX my goddamned leg!" She shivers in the chair, and realizes, finally, she never was in control.