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“Scream.” She commanded.

“What?” The man asked confused.

“Scream. I am torturing you.”

The man, as it turned out was no Leonardo Dicaprio. She rolled her eyes.“You are pathetic.” She hissed.

“Hey, I’m a chemical engineer not an actor!” He hissed back between cringe-worthy fake screams.

“So you did develop the cure.” She whispered between borderline sadistic laughs executed with far more grace than her prisoner’s far-from-adequate display.

“I thought we were past that.” He groaned.

“That is enough.”She picked up a knife and was back by his side in a split second.“You know what happens when you do not talk, pretty boy.”

Before he could blink, she had plunged the blade into his forearm. That was a scream, she thought, hoping that, although it was mostly from shock, it would sound believable.

“Hey!” He said through gritted teeth, ripping off part of his shirt and using it to try to stop the blood flow. “What was that for?”

“I needed a realistic scream, the guards are not idiots.”

“That’s debatable...”

She tore his hand and the cloth away from the gash, destroying any clotting that could have occurred. He winced.“You do realize I’m going to bleed more if you don’t let me try to stop it up.” He said slowly, as if talking to someone with a mental disability.

“Oh, I am counting on it.” She said icily.

Suddenly, she dug her fingers into his tender flesh and ripped them out mercilessly splattering blood over part of the torture chair he was bound to. He clenched his teeth but didn't scream, assuming the role of Unconscious Prisoner. She repeated this process, much to the man’s discomfort, until the equipment was sufficiently bloody.

By this point, he was exhausted from struggling against her superior strength so she gave him a break while she went to talk to the guards.

“0842 struggled more than expected and has caused serious injury to himself in the process. He is not going to be alive much longer. I am going to take him to the Plant myself, I do not want to risk anything happening; they want him alive. 1LT-F241 will be here soon for her appointment, sanitize the work space for her, I will not have time.”

This wasn’t a question. She was the head examiner and in charge of the whole south-east division of Draecia, the 164,000 acre base of the Fallen. If they didn’t do her bidding, they were demoted instantly.

She ducked back into the torture chamber. “Get up, it is just a scratch, we have got to move.”

“You do realize that I’m going to leave a trail of blood, right?” He said, glaring at her.

“You humans and your blood.” She spat out the word as if it was offensive.

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry, but it does get a bit messy when we're being stabbed!”

“You are way more trouble than you are worth.” She hissed, her knife dangerously close to his throat. After letting the tension build for a few seconds, she turned away and her prisoner quickly dressed his wound.

Suddenly in one smooth movement, she grabbed a hidden needle and was by his side. His eyes again widened in surprise and in the couple seconds before he blacked out she whispered, “Sorry, love, it’s much easier this way.” The undertones of sarcasm were lost on the man as he was unconscious by “Sorry”.

She dropped her act, stuffed the comatose figure in a black body bag, and headed for the hallway.

Once she was in the dark labyrinth of corridors, she shifted the seemingly lifeless form under her right arm and prepared her mechanically programed muscles for the high speed available to the computerized Fallen. She covered a couple hundred miles of dimly lit hallways in a matter of minutes and was soon out in the biting chill of the whirling winter winds on base. This meteorological disaster was not the product of any seasonal change, however. On base, and for hundreds of miles around it, these subzero temperatures overpowered any kind of natural atmosphere.

She took a breath, a luxury that, though unneeded, calmed her.

She had checked out of the base with the stated intention of retrieving the new batch of prisoners from the holding cells in the Doldrums. She would drop the prisoner off at the Plant on the way.

She arrived at her destination, a group of dilapidated buildings, long since abandoned. She dumped her baggage on the ground near a rusty, screen door, it’s one intact hinge squealing mournfully as the occasional wintry gust slammed it against the house. She started a fire so her prisoner’s weak, human body wouldn’t freeze. After a little while the form began to stir. His eyes opened and he started to jump up defensively.

“Relax, you are fine. I knew you were going to handle the daunting task of pretending to be dead about as well as the torturing so, I had to drug you.”

He pushed himself into a semi-elevated position with his elbows, still looking suspicious.

“Where are we?”

“About 200 miles outside the base in the north west region. You were picked up around here so I thought it would be a good place to start. I grabbed your backpack on the way out, do you need it?”

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” He said, as she tossed him the compact, camo colored bag. “I don’t have much food in here, but you’re welcome to it if you want some.”

“I do not need food!” She spat. “I am not a weak mortal like you.”

“Right, right. That’s what I figured.” He muttered, taking out a bag of some freeze-dried substance, he wasn’t quite sure what, but he was pretty sure it was edible.

While he ate, she turned on her internal radio device and walked out a little ways away from the makeshift camp. She focused all her energy on trying to get a clear idea of what was coming over the static-y interface.

“Attention,” A mechanical voice was saying urgently. “LTG-F4 has gone rogue. I repeat...rogue. She was last seen smuggling a rebel off...She is considered...dangerous. Approach...-treme caution.”

This was bad.

She tried to stabilize her connection.

“This is LTG-F4 reporting, sir. I am still an active and loyal soldier of the Fallen. I have deceived the mortal into leading me to the rebel camp, sir.”

There was a silence and suddenly she heard the familiar, steely tone of GA-F3, one of her only two superiors.

“We have your location and I have dispatched a squad to come apprehend you and prisoner 0842.”

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