Sov Gott

Captivity

Light blonde hair that spiked at random intervals fell in a downward direction. The head of the person whose hair was scattered about was resting against a hard floor. His heartbeat thrummed under his skin, which was the only way of telling that the man was not dead.

The Danish man's eyes twitched underneath their lids as he stirred, and when his eyes opened he yawned, moving to sit up. The first thing he noticed was the stiffness in his neck. He rubbed his neck, turning his head to look at how his pillow had been positioned when he saw the absence of a pillow at all, and a bed altogether. He furrowed his eyebrows, utterly confused at the situation. He stood up and walked around the room he had been put in and examined every millimeter to his eye. His mind kept searching for an explanation, and it was only when he realized that he had no idea of his location that he remembered being chased, and suddenly losing consciousness. Denmark began shouting, trying to gain attention.

A scratchy sound came into the room, and politely told Denmark that if he didn't stop yelling he'd both lose his voice for absolutely no reason, and also risk the person speaking to come down and kill him.

This led to many questions, and Denmark soon learnt that most everything was going to be responded with "sorry, that's classified." He also learnt, when he asked how long he was going to be there, that he was most likely never going to see the sunshine again.

He tried to keep himself calm, but that was nearly impossible. He thought of Norway and Iceland, and his heart immediately darkened as he realized that he might never see them again. He stretched himself out, considering how stiff his muscles were from laying in who-knows-what position for who-knows-how-long. A bowl of soup and a small loaf of bread were shoved through a tiny slot in the wall. The thought occurred to him to try and escape through it, but after careful consideration he noticed that the door was far too small to attempt to squeeze through. He ate the soup and bread, knowing that it would be better to eat than sit in the room while going hungry and waste food.

After what felt like a day, but in actuality was only two hours, the door to Denmark's holding room was opened. Denmark jumped at the opportunity to run, but the men shot him down, literally. They nailed him in the back of the head, and once Denmark had recovered they dragged him into a plain room. There they tied him to a chair and attached old-fashioned weight chains to both of Denmark's ankles.

A woman came up to Denmark and gagged Denmark with a bandana. Once she knew he was incapable of speaking, she stepped a few yards back and pulled out a long cord with bits of glass at the end. She unfurled it and sent it flying across Denmark's skin repeatedly.

The whole two hours she whipped him were recorded, put on a tape player and dropped outside on the lawn of a pleasant looking home.