Any means necessary

Hey guess sorry for not posting this earlier. I had a lot of job stuff todo today. So forgive me for chornic tardiness. I had a delusion that I could write it in-between but time did not allow it. Anyways this prompt is about having a one sided conversation. Anyways enjoy a little to far gone imagination.

            It’s hot, you can feel the sweat on your back collect and run down your spine. The salt stings your open wounds but at this point that is the least of your worries. You lick your lips; you would sell your soul for water to drink. The only thing keeping you suspended are chains bounding your wrists, your head hangs low with a bag over it. You didn’t know much of anything any more, but he wanted it.

            “Where was I? Oh yeah…” He lunges into you for a gut punch. “Talk. You Russian cockroach.” You hear him pull out a knife from it’s sheath. The cool width of the blade touches your skin. “All I want to know is where your little friends are.” He dances the tip of the bladed over your chest making little dots. “You don’t want to see your friends again?” He makes several nicks on your skin causing you to bleed. You can hear it hit the floor, drip by drip.

            You spend all day like this, strung up like meat. The nights are filled with terror unable to sleep. You have lost track how long you have been in this hellhole. You want out, you would do almost anything. Anything didn’t include cracking to the man before you. Death would be more pleasant than that. If you fall all the dominoes fall behind you. Your comrades do not deserve the hell you are in no one deserves this.

            “Still not talking Dmitri?” He cracks his knuckles; you brace yourself. He strikes you in the face this time. You attempt to glare through the bag but only streams of  light filtered through. “Well then how about another subject then.” The sounds of his steps get further away as he grabs something heavy. “What are those missiles in Cuba doing there?” It wouldn’t matter if you knew about that anyways. He pulls your head back and dumps water over your mouth. You didn’t want it like this.

“Start talking Dmitri!” you gasp for air. 

There is a long pause from your interrogator. You can’t hear a thing. “How would you like an apple?” Your stomach growls, most days they only feed you shitty food twice a day morning and night. You wish for your mothers cooking. “Are you sure I can’t interest you in a bite of this fresh apple Dmitri? It looks juicy.” He took a bite in front of your face making sure you heard the crunch. You lick your lips knowing he can’t see them.

“We know you spent sometime in America gathering Intel. Didn’t you enjoy Consumerism? It is a departure from mother Russia being able to buy what ever you feel like. You could have that permanently, I bet life could await you here. I can give that to you. All I need is  some information.”

You attempt to spit only nothing comes out. “The difference between the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. is that we take pride in our country not to expose our friends.”