The Light That Follows Darkness

The thunderous pounding on the door startled me awake, my heart racing in my chest. Without warning, a new guard stormed into the room, emanating an air of authority and aggression. He forcefully yanked me out of bed, paying no heed to my pleas for caution due to my fractured hand and two cracked ribs. Agonizing pain shot through my body as he callously dragged me outside.

"Hey, be careful!" I protested, desperation lacing my voice. "I have a fractured hand and two cracked ribs. You don't want your boss to fire you for causing more damage. They went through so much trouble to capture me."

My words fell on deaf ears as the guard ignored my pleas, his grip tightening on my injured hand. Each step we took down the corridor sent a chill down my spine, as its familiarity struck me. The guard's sadistic delight was palpable as he led me towards the first four rooms near the entrance, which he disturbingly referred to as the "Interrogation Rooms."

Confusion gnawed at me as I wondered why I was being taken to these rooms when there seemed to be no reason for interrogation. The guard's grip remained unyielding as he brought me to the first room on the left.

With a brutal shove, he forced me into a chair that instantly clamped my hands, neck, and feet, rendering me completely immobile. The room was flooded with an intense, blinding light that seared into my eyes, making it difficult to see anything else. Across from me sat a thin man with a prominent scar etched across his cheek, his presence exuding a chilling aura.

Before I could utter a word, the interrogator's voice sliced through the air, dripping with hostility and menace. "Did you carry out the terrorist attacks in the Japanese settlement?" he demanded, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

Frustration and resentment surged within me, and I responded with a mixture of scorn and resentment. "Are you stupid? Didn't your boss inform you that I'm merely an experimental subject here? Why waste time with such a pointless question?"

The interrogator's sneer deepened; his eyes devoid of any empathy. Ignoring my protest, he abruptly cut me off with a sharp blow to my already injured arm, causing a wave of excruciating pain to surge through my body. The agony was unbearable, and I couldn't suppress the anguished scream that tore from my throat.

Undeterred by my suffering, the interrogator persisted, his voice growing even harsher and more unforgiving. "I will ask you again. Are you, or are you not, the one responsible for the violence in the Japanese settlement?"

Gasping for breath, the pain pulsating through my body, I mustered all the strength I had left to respond with a mix of disbelief and desperation. "Ahhhhh gaaaah! It hurts... Are you kidding me? Are you even sane?"

The interrogator's command was swift and merciless. "Hit him again," he ordered, and the guard beside him complied without hesitation.

This time, his blow landed directly on my fractured ribs, causing a searing pain that made me feel as if my very existence was hanging by a thread. Each breath became a struggle, and darkness began to encroach upon my vision.

As the pain threatened to consume me, I realized I was on the verge of losing consciousness. The interrogator's voice, laced with menace and finality, pierced through the haze. "Let me ask you for the last time. Are you, or are you not, the one responsible for the violence in the Japanese settlement?"

Summoning every ounce of energy I had left, I mustered a final retort, my voice strained and filled with defiance. "To... Hell with... You."

Upon hearing my answer, the interrogator issued a chilling command to the guard beside me. "Knock him out with a good punch and throw him back in his cell. It's enough for today."

Darkness enveloped me as the guard's fist connected with my face, and the last things I saw were the interrogator's twisted smile and the haunting whisper that echoed in my ears: "I mean... it's going to get much worse from tomorrow onward."