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vocab_drabblesTitle: 'Interrogation'
Fandom: Original Fiction
Author:but_can_i_be_trusted
Rating: PG
Word Count: 200
Characters/Pairings: Original
Warnings: Implied future torture
Notes: Crossposted to100words
Summary: Over you they loom, with dark determination in their eyes.
Ten minutes ago, you were relaxing in your seat, taking a train back home for your parents' anniversary. Gazing out the window as the scenery raced by.
Now, you're strapped to a chair in a private car near the back of the train. Two menacing figures have been interrogating you nonstop.
There's no surcease to the questions, which come at you fast as lightning. The men insist that your ticket is counterfeit, that they have evidence of online activity that ties you to a rebel group they've been trying to quash, whose spies are everywhere.
Over you they loom, with dark determination in their eyes. There are whispered hints of torture to come, if you don't make a full confession. The implements they intend to use are already resting on a nearby table, gleaming demonically in the dim light of the car. Their cruel smirks show you that they're not bluffing.
You know you're being scapegoated; the fact that you're a lone wolf means that you've been singled out, to be made an example of. If you survive what the men intend to do with you, then you know what will be your fate: Exile.
The clock is ticking down.
Fandom: Original Fiction
Author:
but_can_i_be_trustedRating: PG
Word Count: 200
Characters/Pairings: Original
Warnings: Implied future torture
Notes: Crossposted to
100wordsSummary: Over you they loom, with dark determination in their eyes.
Ten minutes ago, you were relaxing in your seat, taking a train back home for your parents' anniversary. Gazing out the window as the scenery raced by.
Now, you're strapped to a chair in a private car near the back of the train. Two menacing figures have been interrogating you nonstop.
There's no surcease to the questions, which come at you fast as lightning. The men insist that your ticket is counterfeit, that they have evidence of online activity that ties you to a rebel group they've been trying to quash, whose spies are everywhere.
Over you they loom, with dark determination in their eyes. There are whispered hints of torture to come, if you don't make a full confession. The implements they intend to use are already resting on a nearby table, gleaming demonically in the dim light of the car. Their cruel smirks show you that they're not bluffing.
You know you're being scapegoated; the fact that you're a lone wolf means that you've been singled out, to be made an example of. If you survive what the men intend to do with you, then you know what will be your fate: Exile.
The clock is ticking down.
