Shadows casted from the old flickering lightbulb that barely touch the corner of the room, and the two men inside this room are clearly not in the middle of a nice evening talk, especially with the faint smell of blood mixed with sweat.
One of the men sitting here had lost track of time, he had been here for days. At least, he thought it had been days. It all had been a blur for him after the first sleepless night. He could feel that his body screamed for rest, but the other side wouldn't let him. Every time he dozed off, letting his body sink into the steel chair, it was stopped by a slap on the face, most of the time by a boot to the stomach, or sometimes by a splash of cold sea water. Of course, starvation and dehydration already catching up to him too.
This man that been restrained by coarse rope and slumped in the chair looked to be in his early twenties, though the layers of blood and bruises made him appear older, and beaten past his years. His face was swollen here and there, one eye nearly shut from repeated blows. Dried blood crusted along his split lip, and fresh trails running down his jaw. His breath came shallow and ragged, each inhale of stagnant air igniting the pain that he could feel throughout his body. His ribs screaming, wrists burning, several nail-less fingers throbbing in raw agony
The other man in the room, stopped his feet and leaning in, his fingers suddenly digging into the restrained man's short, wavy black hair, yanking his head back with a sudden pull.
"So... Renji..." the man smiled, his voice thick with the stench of nicotine. "You know who that is, right?"
Renji flashed a bloodied grin, his teeth stained red. "…Who's who?"
A fist collided with his stomach, the force knocking the air out of him. The chair rattled under the impact as his body jerked forward, choking on his own breath. After coughing violently, he chuckled through the pain.
The interrogator, unfazed, shoved a fairly decent-resolution photo in front of Renji. It showed a woman that Renji knows well these past months, walking out of a hotel with a tall figure, platinum hair shining under the yellow streetlights.
Renji's eyes locked onto the photo. The woman in it has a beautiful half-Japanese face, young in her twenties. Her shoulder-length hair with a dull ash-brown color, fell just a bit messily around her face, giving off a natural, effortless look.
The man besides her in the photo had the build of a foreigner, something Renji hadn't seen up close, but he recalled that day, the unmistakable gesture in the way they moved screamed familiarity.
…Rita…
He felt a heavy, complicated mix of emotions the moment the memory of that sight resurfaced.
"Feel like remembering anything yet?" the interrogator drawled, his voice sound smooth but coated with danger. "When's the next time your mistress meets with this guy again?"
With a slow sigh, Renji's gaze lingers down to the photo before tilting his head as if deep in thought. "Never saw that, and no clue what you're talking about."
"You're terrible at lying. You're the one driving her around. You've seen the people she met, the places she goes. Hell, I've seen you there, right in front of this hotel in the photo."
"I drive her around. That's it."
Just a moment later, a brass-knuckled fist crashed into his jaw. He could feel his brain shaking inside his cranium. The taste of iron quickly spread across his mouth.
"Tough guy, huh?" He crouched to level with Renji's eyes. "You think you're cool? Playing righteous boyfriend to her?"
"..." Renji answer with a stare full of defiance.
"Oohoh, this gonna be fun." The man flexed his fingers, repositioning the metal brass in between. "You can either talk, or we keep doing this."
"You might as well save your time," Renji muttered, voice hoarse but steady. "As I've said before… Better off killing me…"
A minute of silence, the man just stares at Renji's eyes as if considering it, but he then grinned back.
"Kill you? I'm not getting my bonus if I did that..."
He turned, walking to a table where an array of tools, some already coated in Renji's dried blood were neatly arranged. He plucked another cigarette from his pocket, lighting it with a flick of his lighter. Smoke seeping out from his lips as he played with the tools.
"You're that naive type, hah… thinking death is easy…"
Walking back at Renji's side, already with a familiar pair of pliers—He grabbed Renji's arm with one hand, holding it down to the armrest.
He pressed the pliers against Renji's last remaining pinky finger nail. Not just gripping the nail itself, but the raw, inflamed flesh beneath.
Then without any warning, he pulled.
Not out—but up.
The nail didn't just come free, it tore through his skin, peeling it back in a jagged flap that stretched past the knuckle. Flesh ripped loose, blood vessels bursting in uneven pulses coloring the white muscle beneath with immediate red.
FUCKKK!!! GHHH!!!!
Renji's body seized in primal agony. Trying his best not to succumb to the pain. His only response was a muffled, breathless groan, loud enough to echo off the walls.
"HAHAHAHAH!" The interrogator barked out a laugh, throwing the bloodied pliers back to the table. "We can go for your toes next, smart boy."
Walking away from him, he grabbed a bucket of cold sea water and hurled it over Renji. The shock, the cold, the pain in his open wounds, sent his battered nerves screaming. He shuddered, his body convulsing against the restraints.
The interrogator crouched beside him, tapping with enough force to his wet and bruised cheek mockingly.
"Come 'on, do you think she actually values you? You're just her pawn. Her errand boy." the man sneered. "Heh, that half-blooded whore? Just like her mother. You think she didn't spread her legs to seal the deal too? Same blood, same game."
Renji's arm twitched against the rope binding his wrists. He knew what they were doing. Getting in his head. Trying to break him. But he didn't expect that the words hit harder than all of the tortures he took.
"Bet you saw it—" he continued, with disgusting grin that stretch wider, while tapping into the earlier photo. "—A moment where you noticed what whores do. What she does."
And then, Renji's mind betrayed him. The memory leaking in like the slipping stench of garbage he tried to ignore.
A cold night. And a hotel entrance. He remembers his 3 hours boredom waiting for her. Rita stepping out first. She looked around cautiously. Later, his eyes catch a second figure followed her from behind. A tall, broad-shouldered man in a long coat, the figure barely glanced around, seemingly confident in his steps. And something about the way Rita stood close, the way she turned her face up just slightly as they exchanged a few last words before parting ways.
He had been sitting in the car, watching from afar. Trying his best not to questioned it. Trying to not to entertain countless unwanted imagination inside his head ever since.
… What if…?
"—Hey, I've seen men like you, hot crush on her, then get tossed away. Fine, I'll give you a chance, you could join us instead if you talk." the man continued, voice dropping to a whisper. Tempting with poison-laced offer.
Renji clicked his tongue, still drowning in his unpleasant memory.
"You've seen that look in her eyes. Like we're beneath her. But don't worry—when she's on her knees with her bare ass up in the air, you'll get your chance too."
Huh?
His ragged breathing stopped. For just a second, Renji stares hard at the man in front of him.
"I mean, I get you. At least she's got that pretty face, and fuckable body, right? Hah! Hope you don't mind her messy holes once it's your turn! HAHHAHAHA!"
The dirty laugh scraped against his soul, something snapping inside him. His bloodied fingers curled into fists, forcing more blood to wet his palms. His foot dragged slightly against the floor, making the restraints creaked. His swollen eye leveling a stare that burned cold in rage.
DAMN IT ALL!!!
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Beyond the one-way smudged mirror, three figures stood watching. Two men laughing, and one of them, a long-haired, slender woman.
In the shadows, folding her arms with impassive eyes. She didn't flinch at the sight of the scene all this time. Yet, despite the apathy in her eyes, her lips slightly formed a twisted smile.