The hours seemed to trickle on, each moment slower than before until one could not be sure of what time it was. Foot falls alerted the being whom was suspended, in hog-tied fashion with a gag over there mouth, and she lifted her head. She'd been slightly tortured, the order had been to frighten information out of her, but several hours later and she still had not given anyone any useful information. Blood had dried along her neck, and the sweat had made her body clammy, though she was not naked her clothes were damp from perspiration. A swollen eye, glimpsed the figure of a man, as he was dragged forth, leaving a chilly wind to whip through the hall, causing her to shiver. For another being this position, as straining as it was on the shoulders, would have put undue stress to the arms and legs, but given what she was the contortion was easy enough to manipulate into a more comfortable position that seemed to evenly distribute the weight of her body. This type of restraint made struggle impossible, and left the victim vulnerable.
Previously a well placed slap had echoed through the dungeons, and a muffled laugh followed. You see, her creator, was as cruel as the day was long and he had subjected her to grueling training techniques and hours of torture, in order to build up her endurance to the terrors that she might face on her own. Since the age of seven, this was a way of life, and she had only grown bolder since then. The blood that had fell from her mouth due to a nice little backhand, had been the result of her insult. "Sure, it is easy to beat on those incapable of those unable to fight back. How about you release me, and we'll see how big your cock really is." CRACK! The pain had exploded against the side of her face, and she had spit the blood upon the ground. A gag had replaced the meat-hook of hand and then she'd laughed, sheer will keeping her from falling unconscious. Now she watched in silent condemnation as another was dragged in.
The gag was then removed, as it had been several hours, in order to be asked I she knew the man. A quiet shake of the head. "Merely my replacement as your punching bag." She offered nonchalantly like one might do as if getting their nails manicured. How she had been captured, was pure stupidity. The desire for riches beyond rational thought, but too late she had learned it was a trap, and she'd been captured. Time for scene two, act one, as the soldiers strapped the nice enough looking man to a chair, to prevent him from standing, as if they were inviting him for tea. A table then was brought forth; on the top had metal shackles attached, which they promptly locked around both his wrists. This meant if he wanted to escape he'd have to take the table and chair with him. It was, in afterthought a hilarious thing to imagine, but the humor sobered from her eyes when they sat a hand axe on the table. Fuck it off, these people were not going to smack this one around, and Heart wondered how this man had managed to get himself captured.
Suddenly the room cleared; Heart and the male the only occupants at this time. But this was not so they could meet and greet. They were giving the man a choice-- a chance to fuck with his mind mentally. The game was simple, and even Heart saw it for what it was. The man could set himself free, see the woman dead, and escape, or allow himself to be tortured ruthlessly by the men whom had captured him. Heart was not one to torture others but damned if she was surprised if he chose to wait for the men to kill him. She, herself would have chewed her own arm if she could have but reached it, but as the battle cat went, they had ensnared the minx, and then enjoyed interrogating her for information she did not have. She waited in anticipation of what he might do, but his time and choices limited considerably as time dragged on.