Sounds of Silence

Chapter 2

**THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES UNWANTED SEXUAL ACTIVITY. DO NOT READ IF YOU WILL BE TRIGGERED IN ANY WAY**

    "They didn't give me a name so I'm assuming you didn't provide them one." He leaned against the wall across from me. "What's your name?"

    I'd led interrogations before. I knew how they went. I said nothing.

    His eyes smiled, but his lips gave nothing away. I was amusing to him.

    "Okay." He nodded. "I'd assume you're hungry. I don't feel like playing good cop bad cop though. We're not going to feed you. But you will cooperate. The means by which you do are up to you. Do you understand?" Still, I said nothing. He nodded again. "I have a few pictures for you to look at. Places. People."

    He made his way to the table, setting up a collection of pictures. I did look, but I didn't react. I recognized some of the people, all of the places, but I refused to give him any leverage. He saw something though because he snatched away all the pictures except one.

    "Who is this to you?" It was a picture of a woman, dead, her gray hair splayed out, some of it covering her face. But I'd recognize her no matter how she looked. It was my grandmother.

    It went on like that for a while. Him asking questions that I didn't answer, showing me pictures I didn't respond to. He unchained me from the table and rechained me to the chair. Then something happened. A man opened the door and wheeled in a silver cart, too tall for me to see the top.

    "Let's see how fast you heal." My interrogator smirked. I smirked back.

    He yanked off nails, hit me, cut me, burned me... and I almost cried. But I didn't crack. I hissed through my teeth at the pain and I might've screamed once or twice, but I said nothing. There was so much pain and blood, I knew I'd pass out soon. The combination was nauseating. For whatever reason, I wasn't healing either. At this rate, I'd bleed out.

    "Let's try something else." He suddenly kicked the leg of the chair and I lurched backward, a scream caught in my throat, along with my breath as my skull hit the concrete. "Oops." His voice was unapologetic.

    Snatching the chair up, he spun me to face the glass wall behind me. The sudden movement caused the nausea to peak and I turned my head to the side and threw up all over his boots.

    "Fuck! You nasty bitch!" His last word was accented with a punch to my jaw. My head snapped to the side and then hung low. I could barely lift it. I could feel my face swelling, my head throbbing, my blood draining. Yanking my head up by my hair, he cursed under his breath about his boots. "Sit the fuck up and look!"

    The light turned on behind the dark glass and I choked down a sob. My little sister sat, chained to a chair in the same manner that I was, significantly in better shape than I, but still bruised and lacerated.

    We saw each other and a silent agreement passed between us. Our faces turned stony and our lips tightened. We'd say nothing. We'd give nothing away.

    "Leland over there isn't as humane as I am. We discovered this girl just before we caught you. Not sure who she is, but your reactions say she's somebody."

    Leland said something to my sister and her face wavered for a second, fear before stony determination. He laughed and began to unchain her legs, rechaining them to the table. Then he unchained her hands and forced her to her feet, slamming her face onto the metal table. She winced. He yanked her hands across and chained her wrists to the legs of the table. Her eyes found mine and she clenched her teeth. Leland's eyes also found mine as he slowly moved behind her.

    I watched as he lowered her pants and underwear. God, no.... She was a virgin! He made every move torturously slow. Unzipping his pants and freeing himself. Moving it toward her. Pressing against her. I could see her breathing faster.

    I called upon the power I possessed, but nothing happened. Why wasn't it working? I felt myself beginning to panic under the surface. Why her? She was only fifteen! I saw her say something and he laughed, shoving into her. She screamed. I could hear it even through the glass. He shoved into her over and over.

    "Malia, just look at me...."

    "So she speaks!" My torturer exclaimed, chuckling. He held up a hand and Leland stopped. Malia cried, her head on the table. I felt tears slipping down my face. "You ready to speak?"

    I looked at my sister and let my head fall. "You have to stop hurting her." My voice was nothing more than a whisper.

**TELL ME WHAT YOU GUYS THINK SO FAR. I'D LOVE OPINIONS. DO YOU WANT LONGER CHAPTERS? DO YOU GUYS LIKE THE STORY SO FAR? I KNOW IT'S ONLY TWO CHAPTERS IN, BUT TELL ME HOW YOU LIKE IT. COMMENT.**