Sascha Morn, Infiltrator and Interrogator of Many Methods
Apr 10, 2022 21:42:08 GMT
Riah and Velania Kalugina like this
Post by Wixspartan on Apr 10, 2022 21:42:08 GMT
The tall, lanky figure stands next to the chair, observing the bruised man slowly coming to his senses. They smile, perfect dosage as per usual, enough to cause great enough pain that they pass out, not enough to kill, perfection as per usual Sascha. They cough as the man tied to the chair begins blinking in the light of the lantern that slowly swings from the ceiling in the otherwise empty room, their voice is like needles of ice, worming their way into the man's head.
"Good evening Mr. Albright, or possibly good morning, who can say eh?"
The man's voice belies his pain, the broken rib giving an especially harsh rasp to his voice, Sascha smiles again at that detail.
"What- what do you want with me? I don't know anything, I don't know anything.."
Sascha's face falls to a sarcastic frown.
"Oh dear, well it seems I've wasted my time if you don't know anything! Shame really I was just getting to the good bit, well then you're free to go, go on, hop along now."
The bruised man is still strong despite his condition, admirable really. He stands awkwardly despite the chair he is bound to and begins to slowly, jerkily, hop to the locked door. Sascha observes for a bit, one hop, two, three. Suddenly they bring their foot into the back of the chair, sending the man face first into the stone floor.
"Oh, wait, no. No Mr. Albright you do know what I want to know. So, how's about you tell me what I want."
They squat down and lean in to whisper in his ear.
"Perhaps then I can let you go back to your wife, I hear she's expecting Mr. Albright, I'm sure you'd want to be there for the birth of your new child. Angela was the name wasn't it? Or was it Angelique. That is, if it's a girl, if it's a boy then surely Robert after your late father. Shame how he died, shame how he was found too, but such is life when you cross our mutual associates."
They stand up and drag the chair upright again before extending their hand to one side as a spectral hand picks a scalpel from a floating tray of implements. It is carefully taken by pianist's fingers that curl comfortably around the implement.
"Mr. Albright there are 27 bones in a hand, you work with your hands Mr. Albright I'm sure you know how useful they can be. I wonder how many of those bones can be extricated before the hand ceases to be of use-"
The knocking on the heavy door cuts them off, they push their reflective spectacles up their face in mock frustration.
"Sit tight, Mr. Albright, I will return to this soon. Remember Mr. Albright! Angelique!"
With a small chuckle they move to the door and open the metal slide with a clunk. The corridor outside is dark, and it is impossible to tell who the hooded figure behind the door is, a deliberate choice, gods it was good to be working with professionals again. A piece of paper slides through the slide and is carefully taken in the same delicate fingers that a second ago held a scalpel to the bruised man's fingers.
"Ah, new information, perfect. Tell our employer that Mr. Albright will break soon, I give it less than two days and I will have the information you asked for."
They close the slide again, not expecting a response, professionals. They beam sardonically at the bruised figure who has begun mutter prayers under his breath. With delicate poise they open the letter and begin silently and quickly reading it.
They scowl. Were they really expected to finish a job like this by midnight? They knew whatever progress had been made would just be ruined by that imbecile Viper when she took over the interrogation in their place. Ah well, an opportunity to flex the old infiltration muscles, an excuse to get out of the basement, sounded like fun really. Let's see what secrets the Dawnland adventurers held, after all, a secret is not long held from Sascha Morn...
"Good evening Mr. Albright, or possibly good morning, who can say eh?"
The man's voice belies his pain, the broken rib giving an especially harsh rasp to his voice, Sascha smiles again at that detail.
"What- what do you want with me? I don't know anything, I don't know anything.."
Sascha's face falls to a sarcastic frown.
"Oh dear, well it seems I've wasted my time if you don't know anything! Shame really I was just getting to the good bit, well then you're free to go, go on, hop along now."
The bruised man is still strong despite his condition, admirable really. He stands awkwardly despite the chair he is bound to and begins to slowly, jerkily, hop to the locked door. Sascha observes for a bit, one hop, two, three. Suddenly they bring their foot into the back of the chair, sending the man face first into the stone floor.
"Oh, wait, no. No Mr. Albright you do know what I want to know. So, how's about you tell me what I want."
They squat down and lean in to whisper in his ear.
"Perhaps then I can let you go back to your wife, I hear she's expecting Mr. Albright, I'm sure you'd want to be there for the birth of your new child. Angela was the name wasn't it? Or was it Angelique. That is, if it's a girl, if it's a boy then surely Robert after your late father. Shame how he died, shame how he was found too, but such is life when you cross our mutual associates."
They stand up and drag the chair upright again before extending their hand to one side as a spectral hand picks a scalpel from a floating tray of implements. It is carefully taken by pianist's fingers that curl comfortably around the implement.
"Mr. Albright there are 27 bones in a hand, you work with your hands Mr. Albright I'm sure you know how useful they can be. I wonder how many of those bones can be extricated before the hand ceases to be of use-"
The knocking on the heavy door cuts them off, they push their reflective spectacles up their face in mock frustration.
"Sit tight, Mr. Albright, I will return to this soon. Remember Mr. Albright! Angelique!"
With a small chuckle they move to the door and open the metal slide with a clunk. The corridor outside is dark, and it is impossible to tell who the hooded figure behind the door is, a deliberate choice, gods it was good to be working with professionals again. A piece of paper slides through the slide and is carefully taken in the same delicate fingers that a second ago held a scalpel to the bruised man's fingers.
"Ah, new information, perfect. Tell our employer that Mr. Albright will break soon, I give it less than two days and I will have the information you asked for."
They close the slide again, not expecting a response, professionals. They beam sardonically at the bruised figure who has begun mutter prayers under his breath. With delicate poise they open the letter and begin silently and quickly reading it.
M,
Complete the interview by midnight and deliver the particulars directly to the Wolf. Then prepare your best threads for a night of games at the Gilded Mirror where you will rub elbows with those who call themselves “adventurers”.
We have a new job for you.
D.O.C.
Complete the interview by midnight and deliver the particulars directly to the Wolf. Then prepare your best threads for a night of games at the Gilded Mirror where you will rub elbows with those who call themselves “adventurers”.
We have a new job for you.
D.O.C.
They scowl. Were they really expected to finish a job like this by midnight? They knew whatever progress had been made would just be ruined by that imbecile Viper when she took over the interrogation in their place. Ah well, an opportunity to flex the old infiltration muscles, an excuse to get out of the basement, sounded like fun really. Let's see what secrets the Dawnland adventurers held, after all, a secret is not long held from Sascha Morn...