Post by erikblack on Jun 13, 2017 8:50:18 GMT -6
Manuel Tejada was, at one time, a bell hop at the Mariott in Miami, Florida. He'd worked there for many years, helping customers with their bags and such. He saw things and people come and go. He knew things. I needed to know what he knew. After all, I had to get to Jason Cash before it was too late.
So what did I do? Well, Lets just say that Manuel keeps the same schedule. It took me a while to figure it out, but I did.
I'd kidnapped the man one night after a long shift and took him to room four twenty nine of that same Marriott hotel. I'd chained him to a wall and simply waited for him to wake up.
"Where am I?"
I looked up from my seat. I'd been drifting in and out of sleep since I'd brought him here. I was glad he was awake.
"You are in room four twenty nine, Manuel. Dont be alarmed but you're currently chained to a wall.", I said with a smile across my face. I buttoned my grey suit jacket as I stood up to greet this man. He'd cone to enough to realize that he was, indeed, chained to a wall. He fought against those chains. It was actually a site to behind. You see, Manuel was not a small man. He stood about six feet tall. He weighed about two hundred pounds. He had a strong build, but he wasn't a physical monster capable of breaking chains.
"You can't escape. Save your strength.", I said smugly. It was quite enjoyable watching him try to escape, but I didn't want him wearing himself out. No, I wanted there to be plenty of fight in him.
"Who are you? Why am I here?", he asked.
"I am Erik Black. You're here because I need some information about a man who is staying on the top floor of the Marriott. And I know you have this information. So you have two choices. You can tell me what I need to know. Or you can refuse to tell me, in which case I will get it out of you in a rather violent manner.", I said with a grin.
"Information? Im just a bellhop.", He said. Except he wasn't "Just a bellhop.". No. Manuel here was more than that. He'd been waiting on Drache hand and foot. He was close to the man. I'd seen it with my own eyes as I scouted him. And so I shook my head.
"Manuel. I know the truth here. I know that you have the information I need. I know that you deal very closely with Drache. Im going to ask you, again, not to lie to me. If you do, I will be forced to pretend you are Kevin Bishop or even Damien Kaine. And I assure you...Things will be painful.", I said. Part of me wanted him to lie. I felt the urge to kill him quickly. It was an odd feeling. One that I hadn't felt in quite some time.
"Drache? I dont fucking know who that is!"
I smiled as I reached into my pocket. I brought forth a picture of the two shaking hands. I showed him another of Drache giving him a DVD. I then showed him a picture of Drache giving him a cell phone.
"You have one more chance before I begin.", I said to him. He shook his head. "I dont know what you're talking about.", He said.
"You know that the dvd he gave you was a video of a friend of mine being beaten and tortured, don’t you?", I asked. "He was barely alive in the video. His right eye was hanging out of the socket.", I added
I shook my head and pulled a small knife from my pocket. It was no more than two inches long. While this wouldn't do much damage, I did not want it to. This was simply about pain.
The cut on his exposed forearm was swift and as deep as the knife would go. Manuel recoiled back, but I grabbed the arm. With a twinkle in my eye, I poured the contents of a clear bottle onto the wound. His screams filled my ears as the alcohol and salt mixture sealed into the bloody gash. It was glorious.
"Now that you know Im serious, I have a question for you. Drache does business outside of the US. Where?", I asked. He gritted his teeth and shook his head. "Wrong answer."
The knife, while small, was extremely sharp. It cut through his thumb life a hot knife through butter. Of course I had to grab his right hand and hold it still. This was easily done with a simple wrist lock.
He screamed in pain and tried to grab his right hand. The screams echoed through the hotel room that was illuminated by a single overhead light. That light seemed to shimmer more as he screamed. It was as if his screams provided power.
"That looks like it hurts.", I said with a grin. Manuel gritted his teeth. His screams had subsided to a whimper. I gave him a moment to collect himself.
"I've tracked him to somewhere in South America. I can't find anything else. That's where you come in. I know that you know, Manuel. Tell me and your pain ends. Lie to me and it increases. The choice is yours.", I said in an emotionless tone. I would get the information from him one way or another. I didn't care how. It was his choice. It wasn't mine.
"Please...just..let...me...go.", He said. "Wrong answer.", I replied.
I stabbed him in the left arm, just below the wrist. The knife wasn't long enough to go all the way through, but the damage was done. Manuel whimpered. He wasn't losing alot of blood, but the pain was getting to him.
"Please..."
I grinned at the man chained to the wall. He was resilient. I'd give him that. He was also very stupid. I knew the truth.
"I need to know where..", I started. "Please...", he whimpered, cutting me off. I'd be losing if I said this didnt bother me. It did. I reached into my suit jacket. What I had planned next would need something...bigger.
The knife I pulled from my suit glittered under that light. It was a hunting knife that was three inches wide and about seven inches long. I grinned at Manuel when he saw the knife.
"Lets play a game, Manuel. Lets see how many tendons this knife can slice through before you stop lieing to me.", I said flatly.
"I..dont..know..", he started. I laughed a little. "You're trying to lose the game before we even start.", I said. "I know its South America. Where?", I asked. He shook his head.
"Strike one.", I muttered.
He couldn't move his legs or bend down. This made thing much easier when I crouched down and rolled up his right pant leg. I could feel his muscles tighten and scream out as I placed the edge of the blade just above his left heel. The blade sliced through the Achilles tendon rather easily. My ear drums nearly burst with the loudness of Manuel's scream.
I gave him a few moments to collect himself. The screams were very loud. They hurt my ears. His body shook with pain. It was his fault, however. He'd brought all of this on himself.
"That was strike one, Manuel. You get three.", I said as I wiped his blood from the blade with a white towel. It took some time, but his sobs subsided. He stood there shaking, no doubt wondering why this was happening. I'd already told him. Everything that was happening to him was his fault.
"Please, sir. I have a family.", he sobbed. I didn't care. I only wanted information. If he died this night, it would be him leaving his family. It would not be me taking him from his family.
"Then give me what I need, Manuel. This is your fault. You continue to lie to me. Why? Afraid of him? He'll die soon enough. But you? You don't have to. Give me what I need and you live. The pain ends and you go home.", I said flatly.
"I dont know anything."
Another lie. And for what? To protect a man that would have already killed him? Im not saying that I wouldn't have, but I atleast give them choices. .
"Im going to ignore what you just said, Manuel. I know its in South America. Tell me where. Do not lie to me and say that you do not know.", I said as I stared at him.
"I dont know."
I grinned to myself and picked up the blade from my lap. "You're losing this game, Manuel. That's strike two. You get one more.".
I walked over to him with the blade in my right hand. He'd already started sobbing. It was pathetic. I knelt down in from of him and jammed the blade into the area just below his right kneecap. Slicing the acl wasn't easy, but with a little pressure as if prying open a door, it snapped. Blood squirted on my face, which I left there for Manuel to see.
"Does that hurt?", I asked. Manuel couldn't answer. He was far too busy trying to catch his breathe from the intense pain he felt.
I sat there and gave him some time to recover as I had been all night. I'd wiped the blood from my face and knife. Something in the air changed. The pressure in the room grew. It was hard to breathe. Intense heat filled the room. The temperature had to have risen by ten degrees in a matter of seconds. The hairs on my neck and arms began to stand on end and the floor shook as if there was an earthquake.
"What's that?", Manuel whimpered.
I looked at him directly in his eyes for the first time all night. I could see him pleading with me. I could see the fight leaving his body.
"That’s Strike three."
So what did I do? Well, Lets just say that Manuel keeps the same schedule. It took me a while to figure it out, but I did.
I'd kidnapped the man one night after a long shift and took him to room four twenty nine of that same Marriott hotel. I'd chained him to a wall and simply waited for him to wake up.
"Where am I?"
I looked up from my seat. I'd been drifting in and out of sleep since I'd brought him here. I was glad he was awake.
"You are in room four twenty nine, Manuel. Dont be alarmed but you're currently chained to a wall.", I said with a smile across my face. I buttoned my grey suit jacket as I stood up to greet this man. He'd cone to enough to realize that he was, indeed, chained to a wall. He fought against those chains. It was actually a site to behind. You see, Manuel was not a small man. He stood about six feet tall. He weighed about two hundred pounds. He had a strong build, but he wasn't a physical monster capable of breaking chains.
"You can't escape. Save your strength.", I said smugly. It was quite enjoyable watching him try to escape, but I didn't want him wearing himself out. No, I wanted there to be plenty of fight in him.
"Who are you? Why am I here?", he asked.
"I am Erik Black. You're here because I need some information about a man who is staying on the top floor of the Marriott. And I know you have this information. So you have two choices. You can tell me what I need to know. Or you can refuse to tell me, in which case I will get it out of you in a rather violent manner.", I said with a grin.
"Information? Im just a bellhop.", He said. Except he wasn't "Just a bellhop.". No. Manuel here was more than that. He'd been waiting on Drache hand and foot. He was close to the man. I'd seen it with my own eyes as I scouted him. And so I shook my head.
"Manuel. I know the truth here. I know that you have the information I need. I know that you deal very closely with Drache. Im going to ask you, again, not to lie to me. If you do, I will be forced to pretend you are Kevin Bishop or even Damien Kaine. And I assure you...Things will be painful.", I said. Part of me wanted him to lie. I felt the urge to kill him quickly. It was an odd feeling. One that I hadn't felt in quite some time.
"Drache? I dont fucking know who that is!"
I smiled as I reached into my pocket. I brought forth a picture of the two shaking hands. I showed him another of Drache giving him a DVD. I then showed him a picture of Drache giving him a cell phone.
"You have one more chance before I begin.", I said to him. He shook his head. "I dont know what you're talking about.", He said.
"You know that the dvd he gave you was a video of a friend of mine being beaten and tortured, don’t you?", I asked. "He was barely alive in the video. His right eye was hanging out of the socket.", I added
I shook my head and pulled a small knife from my pocket. It was no more than two inches long. While this wouldn't do much damage, I did not want it to. This was simply about pain.
The cut on his exposed forearm was swift and as deep as the knife would go. Manuel recoiled back, but I grabbed the arm. With a twinkle in my eye, I poured the contents of a clear bottle onto the wound. His screams filled my ears as the alcohol and salt mixture sealed into the bloody gash. It was glorious.
"Now that you know Im serious, I have a question for you. Drache does business outside of the US. Where?", I asked. He gritted his teeth and shook his head. "Wrong answer."
The knife, while small, was extremely sharp. It cut through his thumb life a hot knife through butter. Of course I had to grab his right hand and hold it still. This was easily done with a simple wrist lock.
He screamed in pain and tried to grab his right hand. The screams echoed through the hotel room that was illuminated by a single overhead light. That light seemed to shimmer more as he screamed. It was as if his screams provided power.
"That looks like it hurts.", I said with a grin. Manuel gritted his teeth. His screams had subsided to a whimper. I gave him a moment to collect himself.
"I've tracked him to somewhere in South America. I can't find anything else. That's where you come in. I know that you know, Manuel. Tell me and your pain ends. Lie to me and it increases. The choice is yours.", I said in an emotionless tone. I would get the information from him one way or another. I didn't care how. It was his choice. It wasn't mine.
"Please...just..let...me...go.", He said. "Wrong answer.", I replied.
I stabbed him in the left arm, just below the wrist. The knife wasn't long enough to go all the way through, but the damage was done. Manuel whimpered. He wasn't losing alot of blood, but the pain was getting to him.
"Please..."
I grinned at the man chained to the wall. He was resilient. I'd give him that. He was also very stupid. I knew the truth.
"I need to know where..", I started. "Please...", he whimpered, cutting me off. I'd be losing if I said this didnt bother me. It did. I reached into my suit jacket. What I had planned next would need something...bigger.
The knife I pulled from my suit glittered under that light. It was a hunting knife that was three inches wide and about seven inches long. I grinned at Manuel when he saw the knife.
"Lets play a game, Manuel. Lets see how many tendons this knife can slice through before you stop lieing to me.", I said flatly.
"I..dont..know..", he started. I laughed a little. "You're trying to lose the game before we even start.", I said. "I know its South America. Where?", I asked. He shook his head.
"Strike one.", I muttered.
He couldn't move his legs or bend down. This made thing much easier when I crouched down and rolled up his right pant leg. I could feel his muscles tighten and scream out as I placed the edge of the blade just above his left heel. The blade sliced through the Achilles tendon rather easily. My ear drums nearly burst with the loudness of Manuel's scream.
I gave him a few moments to collect himself. The screams were very loud. They hurt my ears. His body shook with pain. It was his fault, however. He'd brought all of this on himself.
"That was strike one, Manuel. You get three.", I said as I wiped his blood from the blade with a white towel. It took some time, but his sobs subsided. He stood there shaking, no doubt wondering why this was happening. I'd already told him. Everything that was happening to him was his fault.
"Please, sir. I have a family.", he sobbed. I didn't care. I only wanted information. If he died this night, it would be him leaving his family. It would not be me taking him from his family.
"Then give me what I need, Manuel. This is your fault. You continue to lie to me. Why? Afraid of him? He'll die soon enough. But you? You don't have to. Give me what I need and you live. The pain ends and you go home.", I said flatly.
"I dont know anything."
Another lie. And for what? To protect a man that would have already killed him? Im not saying that I wouldn't have, but I atleast give them choices. .
"Im going to ignore what you just said, Manuel. I know its in South America. Tell me where. Do not lie to me and say that you do not know.", I said as I stared at him.
"I dont know."
I grinned to myself and picked up the blade from my lap. "You're losing this game, Manuel. That's strike two. You get one more.".
I walked over to him with the blade in my right hand. He'd already started sobbing. It was pathetic. I knelt down in from of him and jammed the blade into the area just below his right kneecap. Slicing the acl wasn't easy, but with a little pressure as if prying open a door, it snapped. Blood squirted on my face, which I left there for Manuel to see.
"Does that hurt?", I asked. Manuel couldn't answer. He was far too busy trying to catch his breathe from the intense pain he felt.
I sat there and gave him some time to recover as I had been all night. I'd wiped the blood from my face and knife. Something in the air changed. The pressure in the room grew. It was hard to breathe. Intense heat filled the room. The temperature had to have risen by ten degrees in a matter of seconds. The hairs on my neck and arms began to stand on end and the floor shook as if there was an earthquake.
"What's that?", Manuel whimpered.
I looked at him directly in his eyes for the first time all night. I could see him pleading with me. I could see the fight leaving his body.
"That’s Strike three."