the reality of brutality TOKYO GHOUL FANFICTION Amon x akira

relentless assault

I was dragged brutally into an unknown facility, again having my wrists restrained behind my back in cuffs. I was thrown to my knees, the thin bag they had pulled onto my head was removed. I sputtered with breath at the relief of its suffocation. Above me loomed another group of figures, brandishing guns in their thick hands and dressed in tight undershirts and cargo pants. My quinque was thrown to the feet of one of them. It picked it up carefully and examined it curiously.

"What is this?"

"It's a quinque," the one behind me answered. "A weapon utilized by members of the Commission of Counter Ghoul. It operates by activating it to which then it converts into a kagune like weapon, in fact quinques are created out of the kagune of deceased ghouls." The ghoul holding my quinque frowned still but nodded obediently.

"What do we do with her?"

The other ghoul's stare became darker.

"If she's a member of the CCG then she must know imperative information on other gangs, gang members, ghouls and the operations of the CCG."

"And?"

My stomach dropped.

"We interrogate her. With bodily force if need be." It's true, as a higher ranked investigator I frequently wrote reports and files on significant ghouls, documenting their information thoroughly. During my academy training I had also been trained in resisting torture and how to react to its infliction. The main concept of it was centering oneself and tethering the mind to reality, separating pain from yourself and not allowing it to overcome your senses. Because of the ethics of the academy I had never been mock tortured - only studying it impersonally and I knew that experience made concepts far more understandable than knowledge. For example, a person could study music thoroughly, calculating the mathematics behind scales and tones. They could learn how music works and being able to qualitatively replicate it, but only until a person actually heard music would they truly know what music is. The idea was similar to torture. The dragged me into another room, the building dark and dimly lit, and shoved me into a metal chair.

"Do you know about the gang called the 'Merdetaros'?"
"Yes."
"Where is the gang located?" he shouted at me. To be honest I didn't actually know, I was blindfolded when I got there, remember?

"I don't know," I answered in a monotone voice. I could not allow them to see how unhinged I was.

"Where do the Merdetaros obtain their drugs?"

"I don't know."

"How many are there?"

"Around 400."

"Who is their leader?"

"Gashtar."

"What is his kagune?"

"I don't know." I tried desperately not to sweat with terror as the interrogation dragged on.

"Are there any other CCG members in the area?"

"No." His glare intensified.

"Bullshit, CCG members never operate individually," he snarled and suddenly backhanded me. I gaped in shock and pain. "What does your CCG partner look like?"

"Red hair, stocky build." he backhanded me and I reeled back in my chair.

"Bullshit, there aren't any gingers in Japan, are you retarded?" he continued. "What's their quinque?"

"An expanding wing that discharges projectiles." He backhanded me again and tears started welling in my eyes, my cheek was bright red and I was shaking so hard.

"You're a fucking liar, I can see it in your tone and body language, fucking piece of shit," he snarled. He turned to his accomplices. "Teach her a lesson and maybe she'll come to her senses."

I started panicking and writhing violently in their grasp as they dragged me away.

"Let go of me!" I screamed pathetically, I was in complete panic. They threw me into another room and started their assault. They brandished brass knuckles on their fists, but first literally ripping my clothes off, stripping me naked without removing the restraints. I squirmed desperately on the ground as one jumped on top of me and began slicing into my back. I lost all sense of pride and began screaming, the other brutally kicking my face without holding back. When the one on top was done lacerating my back he yanked me over and started beating my stomach and chest with sluggish blows. It knocked the breath out of me and I gagged violently. They continued opening gashes in my body and bludgeoning me with their fists and boots, ripping out handfuls of my hair and throwing me across the room with brutal power. I couldn't tell how long my assault lasted as it was so violent and I was too occupied with being smashed, mutilated and kicked. By the time they stopped the floor was soaked with my blood. I was gasping and shuddering - how was I even alive? I couldn't move and I was lightheaded with agony.

"Put her in a cell and let her think about what she's going to say in our next interrogation," one of them said in a deep sadistic voice. They dragged me into small, confining room and locked the door. It had a small window so light was able to illuminate my surroundings. I couldn't stop shaking and bleeding, everything pounded with electric and throbbing pain. I struggled weakly on the ground and started crying, I had never been beaten and abused with such ferocity and force. My mind was too shocked to fully comprehend what happened, but I swallowed hard. Where was I and how would anyone find me? And worst of all: what was going to happen next?