Entity 128 | ✔️

21/Broken

Broken: forcibly separated into many pieces

River insisted on giving himself to the cops in Paris for the sake of protecting the real reason behind why he was in London. The whole train ride to the French capital was spent in silence by a couple who didn't want to make eye contact, for the simple purpose of not having to deal with staring eyes if ever they suddenly started crying.

The DST was quick to start interrogating the two, keeping the MI-6 updated throughout their investigation. However, the young adults that had showed up at a police office turned out to be quite the stubborn ones, thus making the cops unable to get anything feasible out of them during their interrogations.

The young man wouldn't react to anything, not even a few pushes here and there. To them, it was almost as if they were dealing with a dead corpse.

The young girl on the other hand, showed more signs of being nervous and uninvolved or unrelated to their case, which intrigued them. It seemed to them that she was some sort of hostage dragged into this against her will.

However, decisions for a different approach were made in the span of a day; methods of torture were strongly suggested, for they both shunned away anything that was spat at them.

Digging through all records they could access, her profile was quick to pop up, her categorization of 'unnecessary to eliminate' pulling at many officer's stings. However, as much as they ran a facial search, he didn't show up anywhere, almost as if he didn't exist until a month ago.

Asking her did them no good either, other than telling them she was more than aquatinted with him, for she tensed every time he was brought up. Out of all people on the planet, she seemed to be the only one who knew of his existence.

The only time did she ever speak, was to answer a simple question. In hopes of deepening her answer, they asked further questions related to the topic which only caused her to break down. The only thing they got out of her that day were two short sentences.

Asking her 'what's his name' only got them 'River', and asking her anything else related to him an 'I don't know', either poker-faced, pained or denying.

Putting a pin on how they were connected was simply impossible. Hell, they weren't even sure if he was human, for his skin bore no marks of singularity, otherwise known as fingerprints, and the iris of his eyes seemed to display a repeated pattern, unlike a regular eye. And to top it off, they could have sworn they saw binary information in the pupil of his eyes during thorough a scanning only capable of a powerful computer.

Meanwhile, Isobel was numb, dying on the inside, wondering what her white bedsheets would look like stained with her blood. Her ears were ringing, not from the excessive silence, but rather the lack of it. Her attempts of shutting away the ear-splitting music by curling up on her bed and thinking happy thoughts were useless.

The group of investigators assigned to her were trying to corrupt her mind with white noise and sleep deprivation. After two weeks of sticking needles under her fingernails and giving her the feeling that she was drowning by being waterboarded, this was their only option left if they wanted to get something out of her; she was going to do a bit of torturing herself.

Eventually, she gave in to their methods, putting herself to use.  However, they didn't want to let her see who she was torturing, hence the decision to take away her sense of sight by blindfolding her instead of melting her eyeballs, since the team had agreed on one thing about her; it would be a pity to ruin such nice eyes.

Testing a few things here and there, they were quick to learn her strengths and weaknesses. At first, they were iffy about a few of her subjects, since they were the tougher ones, either stamina or denial been their strengths. Unlike what they were expecting, she was actually cooperating with them, meaning that something was driving her forward. Only when they figured out what she was clinging on to did they think of taking it away.

She was pushed into a cell, a powerful taser in hand, the smell of blood rushing up to her. She shuffled her way to the sound of shallow breathing. Slowly, she brought a hand to the body, accustoming herself to where everything was. With the other, she crammed the tip of the taser into her victims chest, noting that they were male. The sound of a spazzing body filled the room, but something was missing.

As much as she rammed the taser into her victim's chest, they didn't make a sound. It was as if they couldn't feel any of it. Either that or they were just extremely weak. Her hand wandered over to their side, not hesitating before jamming her taser near what she assumed was their waist. At her sudden forced harshness, her victim whimpered in pain. She jabbed them again in the same spot, receiving an even stronger response. However, strikes to the other hip had no effect.

Frowning, she ran her fingers down the side of their body, feeling a small scar. Focusing her attention on that scar, she was quick to picture what it looked like. To her disadvantage, the crater-like wound she thought of only made her feel worse. The association she had formed led straight to a memory she dreaded to remember. A sudden wave of realization washed over her and she dropped the taser, tears falling down her cheeks almost immediately.