Basement Interrogation

When I came back, he was already awake.

I didn't expect him to recover so soon. I wouldn't have left him alone otherwise, as he could disturb the reality laws as well, and I didn't quite know what he was capable of just yet. What if he escaped?

But I guess I had nothing to worry about. Bound to the chair, he hung his head low, eyes closed, his face contorted in pain. I haven't done anything to remove the chili powder from his eyes, so they must have still stung. I wonder if he could end up permanently blinded.

As I left him completely naked, his skin was covered with goosebumps. We were in a basement a few levels underground, so it was quite cold.

He flinched upon hearing me coming. My footsteps echoed loudly in the empty concrete space. It must have sounded quite ominous.

Maintaining the atmosphere, I stopped not too far away from him, and without saying a word, I took out a cigarette and lit it up. In the eerie silence surrounding us, the clicking sound from the lighter also seemed much louder than usual.

I couldn't help but smile. It was exciting, like a scene from a thriller or a horror movie.

The guy was shivering and breathing heavily. I guess being kept in such suspense could be considered a form of torture too, a psychological kind. I expected him to try to speak up, but he remained completely quiet.

Well, he couldn't really speak up in the first place, as I stuffed a rag in his mouth to gag him when tying him up earlier. But he hasn't even attempted to make a sound ever since he heard me come. Shouldn't he be struggling and making all sorts of muffled noises? Instead, he appeared almost calm.

I slowly walked around him, enjoying my cigarette. Then, I bent slightly, so that my head was on his level, right next to his ear. "Well, hello there. Are you comfortable enough?"

His shoulders shuddered, but aside from that, he hasn't shown much of a reaction.

I sighed. That was no fun. "I'm going to remove the gag now. I recommend you don't try to scream. We're deep underground, no one would hear you anyway. It would only make things more painful for you. Do you understand?"

Still nothing.

"Are you deaf? I asked, do you understand?" I repeated myself, grabbing his hair and pulling his head up.

He nodded frantically in response. Finally.

I removed the rag and threw it aside in disgust. It was dripping with his saliva.

"Alright, so where do we begin? Maybe with a short introduction, hmm?"

The guy remained silent. He tried to open his eyes to take a glance at me, but immediately shut them tight again, grimacing in pain.

I clicked my tongue, annoyed. "Why are you not responding? What are you, mute?"

After taking one last puff of my cigarette, I put it down on the side of his neck. At that, he couldn't help but let out a hiss.

"You're not, right? So stop wasting my time and start talking. I might not be in a rush, but that doesn't mean I want to spend hours in this basement with you. There's plenty of more interesting things to do back on the surface, you know?"

The guy spit out and once again tried to open his eyes, at least slightly. They were completely red. "Just kill me already," he finally answered, his voice weak and quiet, but oddly determined.

I let go of his head. "That won't do. I have a lot of questions that I want to ask you, you know? I didn't go through all that trouble to bring you here just to kill you straight away."

The guy once again became unresponsive.

"Look, we can do it the easy way, or the hard way. The choice is up to you. If you speak up nicely, then there won't be any need for you to suffer. But if you don't… Then there are plenty of torture techniques we can test together. Are we clear?"

I grabbed the second chair in the room and placed it in front of the guy, turning it around so that I could seat backward, resting my elbows on the backrest. I lit another cigarette, observing the guy. I gave him some time so that he could think things through. While I obviously didn't mind torturing him, if he was willing to talk on his own, then that would be far more convenient.

"Aren't you going to kill me anyway?" he finally muttered.

"Well, yeah, so what? It still makes a difference whether you'll die peacefully or suffering, no?" There was no point lying to him. Even if I promised him I would release him if he talks, I don't think he would believe me. Unless he is endlessly stupid, of course.

"Oh, and don't try anything funny," I added. "If you give me false information, I'm gonna give you hell once I return. You're gonna experience more pain than anyone has ever done before. Cause you better believe it, even if you lead me into a trap, I'm still gonna survive. Make sure to remember that."

The guy let out a short, hysterical laugh and spit out. I think he wanted to spit on the ground to show his disdain for me, but since he was tightly bound to a chair, his spit landed on his tight, making him look rather pathetic.

He didn't seem to care, though. "Don't look down on us. I might be weak, but there are many extremely strong people in the organization. You won't be able to defeat them so easily."

…Is this guy an idiot? He must be, right?

He was trying to provoke me, I get that. But what could he possibly accomplish this way?

If anything, telling me that there are strong people after me is just going to make me on guard.

"Pff, you calling them strong means nothing. For someone like you, anyone who is at least slightly competent must appear incredibly powerful." I couldn't help but mock him.

Of course, I suspected that there must be stronger people in whatever organization he belongs to. He probably was one of the lowest ranks. And once they would start sending the higher-ranked members after me, things were going to get much harder.

But I wasn't all that worried. I had full confidence in my ability to survive.

I've been alone my whole life, constantly being hunted by the worlds, after all. And yet here I was, still alive and perfectly fine.

What could they possibly do to me?