Prologue
Nora’s tanned, scarred hands are clenched into fists, and she grits her teeth to stifle a scream as the electric shock courses through her body once again. Her bruised knuckles are further ripped open, and the shock of pain makes her heart race, forcing the fog and tears out of her mind. She shivers involuntarily, her wet hair clinging to her skin.
Today is about torture techniques, and he started early, pushing Nora’s weak body to its limits repeatedly. He said it was to test her response to extreme pain and how quickly a child’s body could bounce back under immense stress. Nora didn’t please him when she failed to react to the electric shock.
The shock comes again, and Nora jerks, trying to keep any noise from escaping her. She knows making a sound would either please or annoy him, so she tries to distract herself and remain silent. She counts the tiles on the ceiling, the steps in each direction, and the number of locks on the door. Counting calms her brain as the current finally passes through her body, and then his distorted voice comes again as he watches her through the two-way mirror.
He’s always watching...observing. “Tell me how that feels,” he demands. Nora doesn’t speak. “Nora,” he snaps, annoyed now. “You know better. You must answer for my research. How does your body feel?” She still doesn’t answer. It’s a childish rebellion, but one she takes pride in, especially when it breaches that cool exterior and brings anything other than cold disinterest to his voice - the voice that haunts her every waking and sleeping moment.
The shock comes again, jolting Nora’s body against the table she’s chained to. “Answer me!” he demands. She doesn’t, so he shocks her again, barely leaving her time to recover from the last one. He asks the same question again and again, followed by recurring shocks.
Nora still refuses to answer, so he increases the voltage until she screams. The taste of her blood fills her mouth, and her bladder lets go. “Please, sir, please!” she begs, but it’s too late. He’s punishing her and reminding her who’s in charge. Her high-pitched voice cracks and then breaks as her body heaves and twists, trying to escape the current burning through her and setting her brain and body on fire. “Please, Daddy! Please!”
she cries, hoping that he’ll hear her over the crackling and popping noises.
But he won’t. Because the only thing he’s done since the first session was torture Nora with electricity or one of his many other techniques. The second session he made sure she couldn’t speak even after the shocks stopped. The third he gave her an injection before starting the next round of torture. The fourth he made them switch places. And now, Nora is trapped on this table as her father holds a remote control, watching the electrical pulses flow through her body. “How does it feel?” he repeats. This time, he’s not asking her what she thinks, but how does it feel, she wonders? His tone implies that he expects an answer. She doesn’t.
“How does it feel?” he demands again, and a chill runs down Nora’s spine as he presses the button.
She’s in pain.
But there are things worse than dying, and Nora has known this since she could remember. she knew her life wasn’t going to end today. It never ended. Not once did she expect to die. She just wanted to live. But death has come close before, and she knows she can survive it this time. So she closes her eyes and pretends she’s somewhere else. Somewhere safe from the pain.
And, for a brief moment, that’s enough. She can feel nothing, not even the sharp pains shooting through her muscles. It’s like someone has pulled the plug on her life. She can’t see, hear, smell, touch, or move at all. All she can do is wait for it to be over. For the agony to stop, for the pain itself to fade away until she can open her eyes and take another breath without screaming.
It doesn’t.
Instead of relief, however, there’s panic, and the fear is so intense that all her defenses start to fall apart. She starts gasping and panting, and then her lungs burn because they aren’t getting enough air. Panic floods her mind and chest, filling up all the spaces and crushing her, threatening to suffocate her, until it’s hard to breathe. It’s difficult to focus. Everything looks blurry. Everything sounds muffled, distant. She’s afraid she might pass out. If she does, what happens? Does she die here? Is she really dead? Or is she just pretending to be dead? Nora struggles to stay conscious, to think clearly, because if she passes out, she’ll be dead and there is no coming back from that, even if she manages to somehow avoid death altogether.
No, she cannot go out like this! Not while the man torturing her is sitting right next to her.
So Nora concentrates on keeping her body rigid, staying focused on breathing, forcing the fear away as the pain surges through her body. She will not give him what he wants, whatever this is. She will not. She will not. Never. Ever.
There’s a buzzing around her head, and a few minutes later she realizes it’s the sound of the electric chair. Her legs ache from being locked in the position for so long, though, so she forces them down by focusing on relaxing her knees, which are pressed together tightly enough so she isn’t able to relax them. Her muscles strain with the effort, making her gasp again as sweat beads on her forehead, causing the strands of hair stuck to her skin to stick to her face like glue.
The room spins a little bit more, her ears ringing, her thoughts becoming foggy. She wishes the pain would go away – maybe the pain would go away completely – and it’s only after several seconds have passed that she realizes she should probably say something. Something coherent, at least. There’s got to be some way to make him let her go. To save her life!
The thought makes her stomach turn as she focuses on speaking, her dry throat making her sound hoarse. “Let..let..me..go…” Her words come out slurred, her speech slow. She hates that she can’t seem to hold any steady words. “Daddy... please…”
He leans forward, looking at her closely in the glass. The shadows from behind him cast harsh, grotesque expressions across his face. He’s grinning, but she can tell he’s not happy with her. “Why should I, Nora? What have you ever given me? Nothing.” He snorts derisively. “Nothing but a headache.” He shakes his head ruefully. “Maybe it was just as well I didn’t try to kill you sooner…” He raises his hand for another shock, and it hits Nora’s body like a bullet train, rattling her teeth and sending a jolt of pain shooting through her whole body, knocking her unconscious before the effects of the stun gun have fully worn off.
