Captured by Death

Torture Time

"Ah!"

Keres' fist pelted my face once again. Blood dripped from my nostril, lip, and forehead. Keres looked pleased and almost proud. She was breathing very heavily. "Thanks for this, Mr. Buchanan. I'm getting in quite the workout." I spit blood as she circled around me. She went back over to her "toolbox" and grabbed a gun with a suppressor on it. "I could make this quick and easy. A couple of gunshots to the sides and you'd be out for the day," She then slammed the gun down on the stool. "But where is the fun in that. Sure you don't want to stop? I could give the rest of this to Natasha and we could be done for today. Or you could just tell me the codes. This can all be over." I shook my head. "I've already been through hell. It'll be nice to see some old friends."

Keres shook her head while she balanced a knife on her pointer finger. "You certainly are a selfless man, Mr. Buchanan." She then took her high heel to my face. I howled in pain. I felt more blood run from my nose. "Too bad being selfless gets you nowhere." she whispered. I looked up at her through my untamed hair. "So, Keres? That's an interesting name. Not Russian. Greek. How'd you come to have it?"

"Oh, so you know Greek?"

"I dabble."

"Well, are you aware of what Keres means?"

I was quiet for a moment and shook my head as much as I could without passing out from pain. Keres smiled. Genuine this time. "My father picked my first name. My mother picked my middle. Macaria. My parents had a thing for Greek myths and legends. It was sort of an odd interest they shared. My mother was a superstitious woman and had an affinity for a certain goddess. Marcaria. She was the daughter of the God of Death, Hades, and embodied blessed death. My mother wanted me to die as peacefully and as painlessly as possible. I suppose she thought maybe naming her daughter after the goddess would give me some kind of advantage in the nature of my death," Keres' soft smile then turned to that malicious grin I was seeing all too often. "My father also picked a greek myth to draw my name from. The Keres. They were the daughters of Nyx, the goddess of the night. They were female death-spirits who embodied violent death and were drawn to battle fields and war grounds. They searched for dying and wounded men to feast on. It is said that the goddess of the mist of death herself may have been a Keres. Think of them as dark Valkyries."

"I was fading in and out of that conversation because of head trauma, so excuse me if I'm wrong, but your full name is the spirits of violent death followed by the goddess of blessed deaths...and Lebedev, your last name, I know means swan so... you're the Swan of death?"

Keres nodded with a smile. I sat staring at her like she was insane. "Sounds like your parents had very opposing views on death." I said. Keres laughed. "Have I lived up to my name Mr. Buchanan? Am I a swan of death? Both blessed and cursed?" she asked. I sighed. "Well I don't know about the blessed part, but I assume that was meant more about your personal death. I guess we'll find out about that one."

"Indeed we will. So no codes for me today?"

"Once again, the answer is going to be a no."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Buchanan."

Keres smacked me across the face. I winced and yelped once more. Keres had a blank expression. "Do you want your food?" she asked flatly. I shook my head. If it meant food for Natasha, I would not eat for as long as I could. Keres laughed. "You are certainly kind, but I am starting to think you're stupid soldier boy." She then turned to leave. I was left alone in the warehouse heaving in pain.