We last read Chapter 46, in which Sapphire Angel is brutally interrogated by a masked woman, after waking from a trap to find herself chained to the hood of her car, surrounded by video cameras. The mysterious stranger uses Sapphire Angel’s real name — Beth Harper — and tells the heroine she will force her to reveal everything, including her powers, her weaknesses, and how she came to become Sapphire Angel. The masked woman begins by trying to get the heroine to admit her real name on camera. Sapphire Angel refuses to answer.
This is the second story, so if you want to start from the very beginning, you can jump over to book 1, and begin with the Prologue of Sapphire Angel, Superheroine. Or to start at the beginning of book 2 (this story), click over to the Prologue of Power Play.
Thanks for reading!
*** Warning: Like last chapter, this chapter also contains violent content and interrogations that may be disturbing.*** I’ve struggled with how to handle such scenes in my writing, and want to be sensitive to those for whom, for understandable reasons, this could be a trigger. I’ve written previously about my thoughts as I try to figure out this issue. Admittedly, I’m still working through my feelings on this, and recognize I don’t have all the answers. Please read no further if these type of scenes could cause issues.
Raven Tristan looked down at Sapphire Angel, who lay chained to the car, unmoving, with her eyes closed and mouth open. Her chest rose in a slow but steady rhythm, causing the shiny fabric across her flat stomach and firm breasts to tighten and loosen with each breath.
A mix of emotions filled the goth woman. While she rode the high of having captured the legendary superheroine, she also respected the blond girl's determination. Beth Harper was made of stern stuff, resisting when anyone else would crumble. But guilt nearly overrode Tristan's pride and her admiration. While she enjoyed controlling others, she did not relish inflicting pain. Unfortunately for both her and Sapphire Angel, the night was just beginning.
And one other emotion crept into Tristan's consciousness. Worry. Thoughts of Wheldon, and his unknown plans, had sprouted in her thoughts again like a weed that wouldn't die. The worries almost outweighed Tristan's desire to please the man. But one glance at the superheroine chained spread-eagle before her caused those worries to recede. She still had much to learn about the costumed woman.
Tristan had asked Sapphire Angel for her real name to establish a baseline for the questions to come. Since her subjects sometimes lied to gain relief from pain, Tristan liked to start with an unimportant question. The heroine had little incentive to protect her identity, since her captor had already revealed the answer. Because the girl resisted under the onslaught of pain, Tristan could trust the truthfulness of future answers when she finally did break.
Of course, she had another incentive for getting Sapphire Angel to admit her true name on camera. She needed proof for Xavier Wheldon, in case he doubted her other evidence. But the mere thought of her boss caused Tristan's worries to grow again. What were his plans, and would it spell doom for Tristan? She looked down at the beaten heroine to drive those worries away.
Tristan studied her prisoner's features and grudgingly acknowledged the beauty of the famous woman. She had the prominent but not severe cheekbones most women craved, giving her soft yet striking features. Tristan had known Harper to have a nice body, but seeing it up close and in person was something else entirely. The blue and white costume accentuated her curves, clinging to her and showing a build both athletic and feminine. Her breasts, while not large, were proportioned perfectly for her slender body. Her shoulders were delicate yet strong, and her legs, barely hidden by her short skirt, were firm yet thin. Tristan knew that many twisted men — and some women, too — would love to be in this position, with this stunning woman chained at their mercy.
She shook her head, forcing herself to concentrate on the task at hand. She had set up a table next to the hood of the car and lined it with equipment. Wires and cables, needles, syringes, intravenous lines, and various bags of intravenous fluids filled the surface. An IV stand stood next to the table. All the equipment had one purpose — to pry information from the superheroine.
It wouldn't be like on television, where a bit of Sodium Pentothal made a prisoner spill every last secret. No, it wasn't that easy. The first drug would lower Sapphire Angel's inhibitions, similar to how she might feel if severely intoxicated. Other drugs would then play with her mind. Those drugs would confuse, hurt, and frighten her, or sooth and restore her. It all depended on what the flow of questioning required. Tristan's other tools would amplify those feelings.
This wasn't torture. Or at least that's what Tristan told herself, to assuage her guilt. Torture was barbaric. She liked to think of this instead as a total mind fuck, with Sapphire Angel as the recipient. And whereas Tristan didn't enjoy causing pain, she enjoyed mind fucks. It had been that way from the beginning, when she had learned her interrogation skills at the side of a former interrogator from a foreign intelligence service. He had also been a lover and business partner.
Tristan leaned over the superheroine and slid the gas mask to the side. She grabbed Sapphire Angel's chin between her fingers and gave a gentle shake. The unconscious woman gave a faint moan and her eyelids fluttered, but she did not awaken.
Tristan turned to the line of syringes, needles and intravenous lines on the table next to the car. She primed a small tube with saline, before grabbing an elastic tourniquet and tying it around Sapphire Angel's arm. Tristan took a needle and attached it to a cannula for insertion into the woman's arm. She used her other hand to touch the inside of the heroine's elbow, just above where her glove ended. Tristan massaged the skin, found a blood vessel, and moved the cannula into position. She held the device with one hand while guiding it with the other.
Something unexpected happened as the tip of the device approached the heroine's skin. Tristan's hand had been steady, but an unseen force slowed the tip and subtly deflected it to the side. She wrinkled her brow, before a smile of realization crossed her face. Sapphire Angel's powers had done this. Tristan leaned in, determined, with both hands on the cannula. Slower than her first attempt, and holding the device tight, she pushed the tip down toward the superheroine's skin. She felt the resistance again, but she pushed slower and steadied the cannula when she sensed the deflection again. She maintained pressure, and after a few seconds the resistance disappeared and the tip of the needle contacted Sapphire Angel's bare skin. A soft, sleepy whimper escaped the captive woman's lips.
A smirk of satisfaction crossed Tristan's face as the needle plunged into the heroine's arm. Once she had fully inserted it, Tristan withdrew the center of the device and tossed it aside, before taping the IV into place. Tristan repeated the process on the other arm, and a few moments later both lines were in place. Her prisoner was primed for whatever fluids Tristan needed to pump into her.
Sapphire Angel stirred again, but still did not awaken. Tristan turned to a notebook on the table, grabbed a pen, and jotted down a few notes about her observations. She was most interested in how the unseen force had resisted and sightly deflected the needle, but had done so only for a brief moment. She knew Sapphire Angel was rumored to be bulletproof, and wondered if she had just seen the same defense mechanism in action. The question only whetted her appetite to find out more about the girl's powers and what was behind them.
Tristan moved with an eager precision, taking two of the intravenous bags and hanging them on the stand. She ran the lines to each IV in Sapphire Angel's arms and waited patiently as the contents slowly poured into the girl. Tristan almost couldn't contain her excitement. There was something exhilarating about practicing her craft on Sapphire Angel, and having the superstar superheroine at her mercy.
As Tristan reveled in the situation, she heard Sapphire Angel emit a soft moan. It wasn't a painful moan or even a distressed moan. It was the moan someone makes when waking from a pleasant nap, which meant the drugs from the gas mask were having their desired effect. Tristan grabbed the metal rods again.
Sapphire Angel's eyes flickered and opened, but only a sliver. Tristan could see her try to mouth a word, and had to lean in to hear her.
"W... Where am I?" Sapphire Angel's voice was only a whisper, and Tristan saw a faint smile at the edges of the girl's mouth.
"Somewhere safe," Tristan whispered in reply, and stroked Sapphire Angel's blonde hair.
"I... I don't remember being safe," Sapphire Angel said, a quizzical tone in her voice.
"You were just dreaming," Tristan breathed, still stroking the heroine's hair.
"Mmmm," Sapphire Angel moaned again. "I want to go back to sleep."
Tristan bent in close to her ear. "Not quite yet. A few questions and then you can rest."
Tristan recognized the effect the drug was having on Sapphire Angel. Right now, Sapphire Angel was feeling tired and peaceful, and was only on the very edge of consciousness.
"So," Tristan began, "tell me your name."
There was a pause, and Sapphire Angel scrunched her forehead, as if Tristan had asked her a difficult question. "I... I am..." There was a pause again, followed by a glint of recognition on Sapphire Angel's face. "I am Sapphire Angel."
Tristan frowned. She knew it had been foolish to hope for a best-case scenario, which would have been if the drugs had caused Harper to forget she was clad as the heroine until Tristan steered her in that direction.
"No," Tristan asked gently, "your real name."
"I can't tell you that," she said with a slight smile, as if the question amused her.
"Yes, you can trust me," Tristan replied.
Sapphire Angel bit her lip and exhaled deeply as she arched her back slightly. "Emily Jones," she said. "My real name is Emily Jones."
Tristan was ready for this incorrect answer and jabbed Sapphire Angel with both rods. The heroine cried out, and her entire body tensed. Tristan stopped as the costumed beauty fought for breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly. As the groggy woman caught her breath and spoke, Tristan made changes to the IV fluids running into her body.
"Why did you do that?" Sapphire Angel asked, as if Tristan were an old friend. Tristan knew that the drugs in her system were confusing her, making her not realize where she was.
"Because you lied to me. All you need to do is tell the truth. You shouldn't lie to me," Tristan told her. "I'm a friend."
Tristan watched as Sapphire Angel's body tensed. Tristan recognized the look. Thanks to the latest IV drug, a burning sensation was engulfing Sapphire Angel's nerves, and she was feeling as if her heart was constricting in her chest. Another sedative tugged her back towards sleep, but not quite there. This would leave her mind confused and afraid, but only in a base animalistic sense. She would be too far gone to give any rational thought to what was happening to her.
Tristan leaned in again, this time pulling back Sapphire Angel's hair so she could talk directly into her ear.
"We're now with someone bad, but I can protect you. This place punishes lies, but I can comfort you and take away the pain."
Tristan watched as Sapphire Angel's face clenched in agony. Tristan moved to the table, and switched the fluid flowing into the first IV, and turned off the second one. She turned back to Sapphire Angel's ear.
"There, there," Tristan whispered. "I pulled you away, to safety. But I can't protect you from lies. You don't want it to come back again, do you?"
"No, no," Sapphire Angel murmured. "I just want to sleep."
"Then tell me your real name, and you'll be closer to resting."
There was another pause, so Tristan stuck her again with a jolt. This time, she held it for a longer stretch than any of the previous times. Sapphire Angel's wail was horrific. Tristan knew the woman's senses were now on fire from the drugs, which amplified the effects of the rods, even if she was only on the edge of consciousness.
"Please..." the blond beauty blurted, as the first hint of tears welled up in her eyes.
"Tell me your name," Tristan repeated, but didn't stop jabbing her with the rods.
Sapphire Angel's wail continued, and her body trembled and convulsed. Her fingers opened and closed, and her head shook back and forth. Tristan cringed, forcing aside any thought to the agony the woman was enduring.
"Please help me," Sapphire Angel whimpered, her lips trembling.
Tristan pulled back the end of the rods, but left the handles brushing against the superheroine's legs. "Yes, I can help. But you need to tell me."
Sapphire Angel's murmur was almost inaudible.
"Elizabeth Harper," she answered. "My name is Beth Harper."
This is the second story, so if you want to start from the very beginning, you can jump over to book 1, and begin with the Prologue of Sapphire Angel, Superheroine. Or to start at the beginning of book 2 (this story), click over to the Prologue of Power Play.
Thanks for reading!
I appreciate any comments or email.
SECRET IS OUT, FOLKS
So now, that is....three people who know.....? Stanley, Ethan, and Raven....? HopefuIIy those doubts of hers don't come crawIing back to her now....Raven IiteraIIy got a confession straight from the source.
This is gut wrenching! This Tristan is a psychopath!