We last read Chapter 48, in which Raven Tristan’s interrogation of Sapphire Angel continues. Tristan forces the heroine to reveal that her necklace protects her identity, and that Sapphire Angel doesn’t understand how it does so. As Tristan removes the necklace from around her prisoner’s neck, she deduces that the heroine gains her powers from the item.
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 was no longer dealing with Sapphire Angel. With the superheroine robbed of her powers and with her identity stripped bare, she was just a terrified, helpless girl in a costume. And without her necklace, the stunning superlady's ability to resist this interrogation may have reached its limits. She would tell all, in short order.
"There's more than just the necklace at work, isn't there?" Tristan asked. "You're not wearing the necklace now, but if I didn't already know your identity, I still might not recognize you. Why is that?"
"I don't know. I swear! Please!" Sapphire Angel pleaded. "I guess it's something... left behind from the necklace. Or maybe it's my costume." Although Harper's voice cracked and faded, she spoke freely and with urgency. "Or maybe some connection between the two. I don't know. It's the truth!"
Tristan studied her, assessing her answer. Tristan believed her.
"The costume. The whole ensemble — what's the story behind it? You get all dressed up in something flashy to go fight criminals. Why something so... eye-catching? So... thought out and coordinated?"
"It all came from my aunt."
"Your aunt? Why?"
"I don't know. She's dead. Never told me." Sapphire Angel continued to answer without delay, although she spoke in short, broken sentences.
"Is there something special about the costume?"
"I think so."
"What is it? Keep going. Don't make me pull it out of you."
"At first... I thought it was just Lycra. But not sure now. It doesn't tear easily. Hard to get dirty. And smoother than Lycra. Shinier, too. Like satin, almost. Don't know what it is."
Tristan nodded, running her fingers across the fabric clinging to the heroine's flat stomach. It was smooth, just as the beautiful woman said. And it gleamed in the dim light of the garage, adding to its allure.
Satisfied with the answer, Tristan moved on, spending several minutes prying the details of the woman's life out of her. She wanted to paint a complete picture of Elizabeth Harper and Sapphire Angel. Harper offered almost no resistance, continuing to speak in short, incomplete sentences. Her face wore the marks of her horrific night. The beauty was still there, but behind the stunning looks lurked the shadow of exhaustion and agony.
"What is inside the locked closet in your apartment?" Tristan asked. The closet had bothered her from almost the beginning.
A confused look came over the superheroine's face, followed by a smile.
"Oh, that's right, I'm Sapphire Angel," she said with a sigh.
Tristan swore under her breath. The drugs were altering the heroine's state of mind to the point she might be unable to answer soon.
"Let me help you," Tristan said. "The lock on closet is fake, and conceals a real one, right?"
The captive superheroine sighed again and said, "Yes."
"So what is in the closet?"
"More... more costumes."
"Identical to this?" Tristan asked in surprise, running her fingers over the smooth fabric. She rested her hand above the girl's waist, palming her flat stomach and feeling the slight rise and fall of her abdomen through the thin fabric as she breathed. "This costume isn't unique?"
"I thought so. But no. A month ago... I found a note. From my aunt. Written before she died. Directions to a storage unit. I found other costumes. All the same. And lots more fabric."
Tristan's mind spun. "Why?"
"The note said it was only for me. So I'd always have enough."
Tristan frowned. She would have loved to spend more time on the girl's costume, but might not have much longer.
"Let's move on. How are you so powerful?"
Tristan had already deduced the answer, but she needed to hear it from Harper's lips. Below her, Harper's body sagged in despair on the hood of the car. She remained silent, though, somehow still mustering resistance. Tristan shook her head in amazement. Tristan had never seen someone withstand as much as Harper had. She deserved the accolades the world heaped upon her. But Tristan didn't have time for this. The girl had too many drugs pumping through her system, and would be unconscious soon. Sapphire Angel needed to answer. Now.
Tristan jabbed one of the rods into the bare skin of her neck. Without her necklace, Sapphire Angel had no defense from the searing pain coursing through her. Her bloodcurdling scream ripped through the barn with such force that even her captor took a step back in shock.
Harper started to whimper, fighting back sobs. "I can't take any more, please," she said, her voice cracking.
"Then answer the question," Tristan said, stepping forward and holding out the rod menacingly.
"I will, I will," Sapphire Angel said. "Whatever you want." The superheroine had resisted valiantly, but her will had been destroyed. Tristan had broken her absolutely. The blond woman looked up at Tristan, straining to open her eyes. She didn't speak, and Tristan realized her captive no longer remembered the question.
"How is it a small girl like you can be so formidable?"
Beth Harper took a deep breath, her chest heaving with the effort. "It's the necklace." Her voice was barely a murmur. "I don't know how it works. I promise. I just know it gives me abilities."
Tristan stared at the necklace, laying on the hood of the car next to the heroine.
"So you are powerless now? Just an ordinary girl?"
"Yes," Sapphire Angel whispered.
Tristan stood back, rubbing her chin. Even though she knew the answer, it was different hearing the words come from the superheroine's mouth. It gave even more gravity to the accomplishment of breaking her.
"If you keep talking, and keep answering my questions, the pain will stop."
Sapphire Angel closed her eyes and nodded, exhaling deeply. Tristan had seen it before. This once-powerful woman was coming to gripes with the fact someone had complete control of her.
"So, with the necklace, how strong are you? Have you ever tested your strength to measure its limits?"
"No... yes," she said, her head sinking back onto the car. She exhaled again. "I mean, I think I'm stronger than anybody. Maybe way stronger. Stronger than several men put together. Hard to test. Weight sets only hold so much. Not enough to be a struggle."
There was a long pause as Sapphire Angel took another deep breath. She seemed to be in a relaxed state now, and unconsciousness was creeping closer. And this time it would be lengthy.
Tristan nodded. "How fast are you?"
"Don't know. Never measured myself. Faster than an Olympic sprinter. Probably. Definitely. Maybe. Maybe by lots."
Tristan digested the information, wishing her captive were more certain, but not expecting more. Tristan's feelings were mixed. She didn't enjoy inflicting pain, but the ability to control someone else, and force them to reveal all, was intoxicating. The fact it was Sapphire Angel was even more exhilarating. She was bending perhaps the most powerful woman in the world to her will.
"Now, I've heard you are impervious to bullets and other projectiles. Is it true?"
Sapphire Angel nodded.
"Do you feel them at all?"
"No. Mostly not. Sometimes a little sting."
"Have you found any projectiles that can hurt you?"
Sapphire Angel didn't answer, but not from resistance. She was starting to drift away. That prompted another jab of one of the rods, this time on the heroine's thigh. Her back arched as much as her bonds would allow, and she shrieked again.
"Damnit!" the costumed woman gasped when she had regained her senses. "I'm answering. I'm just... so tired."
"What projectiles can hurt you? That was the question."
Sapphire Angel seemed more alert now, but was still fading back toward sleep. "None. None yet. Only been shot at. And knives thrown at me."
"Any other powers we haven't talked about?"
"No. Wait... yes. Necklace absorbs damage. Softens blows. Punches don't hurt as much. I recover faster, too. Faster healing."
"Is that it?"
"Yes... well, maybe not. Just learned I can be persuasive. But not always. People sometimes do what I say. I don't know how. Or why. Or what circumstances. Not sure if that's the necklace or..."
"Or if it's because you're a hot bitch?" Tristan asked with a sneer. "And people are captivated by you, and fall all over themselves doing what you ask them to?"
Beth remained silent. The masked captor walked to the side of the car and leaned over the destroyed woman's body, looking at her face. Beth's eyes opened slightly, and Tristan could see her trying to focus. Those eyes exuded fear and vulnerability.
"Will the necklace work for me?" Tristan asked.
Beth gave a slight shake of the head. "No. I've tested it. On a couple others. It didn't do anything. It only works for me. Probably has to do with how I got the powers."
Tristan furrowed her brow. After she was done the questioning, she would test the necklace to be sure. "How did you get your powers?"
Sapphire Angel exhaled and groaned. "Complicated story," she said, her speech slurred.
"I have time," the woman replied, even though her prisoner would soon fade into darkness. Tristan held up one of the rods for Beth to see.
"Senior in college." She yawned, but continued. "Halloween night. Before a party. Never made it there. Boyfriend and I stopped at his work. I wanted to see it. I didn't have clearance. He snuck me into the building. He didn't want to go." Harper's voice cracked and her lip trembled. "Stumbled into an experiment. I felt — I can't explain. Like I was soaking up energy. Energy from whatever we stumbled into. My Halloween costume was this. This costume. Found out I had these powers. Only when wearing the necklace." Sapphire Angel stretched as much as her bonds would allow, as if her explanation had tired her even more. "Can I sleep now?"
Tristan's jaw hung open at this story. Remarkable. She wondered who else knew of it. "Soon. What company was it?"
"Fizzure Technology."
Tristan paced next to the car, muttering to herself. She stopped at the front corner of the car, near where Sapphire Angel's right ankle was chained.
"So why the whole superheroine persona?" she finally asked. "Why not just use your powers for other things?
She saw the beaten woman try to raise her head to look at her. The heroine let out a groan instead, lowering her head back onto the car.
"I didn't want to, at first. But then... I don't know. Guilt, I guess. I had to try to save my boyfriend. He got sick. From same experiment. And Fizzure kidnapped a friend. I had to save him. When it was all done... I couldn't do nothing. Had to help. John's death couldn't mean nothing. And I liked it, too."
"The car. How did you get the car and this garage?"
Tristan noticed her captive's hesitation. Even in her condition, she was pondering the question.
"I bought it," Sapphire Angel answered, her voice cracking. Tristan didn't wait, jabbing the rod into her calf, just above her boot. The costumed woman screamed.
"You're lying!" Tristan hissed.
"No, I swear!" Sapphire Angel blurted, although her words came out as a sob. Her protest did no good. Tristan jabbed her again, this one closer to her knee, and even more painful. As the heroine screamed, Tristan adjusted a knob on the rod, turning up the power. Tristan was losing her cool. She hadn't broken the superheroine after all. What was this girl made of? Time was running out.
"You're lying," Tristan barked again, an edge to her voice. "I know more about you than you could imagine. You could never afford this car on your own. Where did you get it?"
Sapphire Angel bit her lip, as if trying to keep herself from talking. With a fury, Tristan jabbed with the rod again, this time in her thigh. The superheroine screamed and shook her head. Another jab, and another scream. When she maintained her silence, the jabs continued, and her shrieks spit the air. Tristan was lost in anger, fueled by the bitter realization she had been wrong. She had yet to fully control the heroine. Unbelievable.
Beth Harper's real breaking point came when Tristan jabbed her with both rods between the legs, in her pelvis, holding them there and sending Sapphire Angel into twitching convulsions. The woman's shriek was horrific, sounding like a death wail.
"Stop, stop," she sobbed. "I'll tell you." Her shoulders heaved up and down on top of the car, as she fought to subdue her sobs and her twitching body. Tristan pulled herself under control, thankful the heroine had relented before it killed her. A pit of self-loathing grew in the goth woman's stomach.
"You have 5 seconds," Tristan answered.
Sapphire Angel didn't wait that long. "I have a benefactor," she said between sobs, as tears ran down the side of her face. "Please, this is going to kill me."
"This isn't going to kill you," Tristan answered, although she was starting to worry. "In fact, in a couple of days you will feel fine. Just sore. Now tell me who is your benefactor?"
Sapphire Angel didn't answer right away, and Tristan prodded her again. The blond woman screamed and her eyes lost focus.
"Don't lie to me," Tristan said. "I will know if you lie."
"Devor... Stanley Devor," she blurted out, her voice shaking. She bit her trembling lip. Tears rolled down her face.
"The father of your boyfriend?" Tristan's voice was back to its cold, calculated level, showing no emotion. She studied Sapphire Angel, glad not only that the girl was talking, but that she seemed more alert and able to convey information. This girl was something special, even without her powers.
With a whimper, Sapphire Angel said, "Yes, using money he got in a settlement with Fizzure over John's death."
Tristan was silent for a moment as she digested the information.
"Who else then? Who else knows Beth Harper is Sapphire Angel?"
Sapphire Angel paused again. This bought her another jab, and another scream. Her body twitched and thrashed on the hood of the car as Tristan held the rod in place. After several seconds, Tristan pulled it back. Sapphire Angel sagged in her bonds and stared up with unmoving eyes. For a moment, Tristan worried she had killed her, but the girl finally blinked, and her head lolled to the side.
Tristan bit her lip. She wanted the answer, but didn't want to kill the girl. She wasn't a murderer. But between the drugs and the physical battering, Sapphire Angel was hanging by a thread. One more jolt might be too much, so Tristan leaned over Sapphire Angel and smacked her in the face. The costumed beauty winced and let out a helpless whimper.
"Who else knows?" Tristan repeated.
"Just Stanley's wife and one other person." Her voice was barely audible.
"A name. I want the name," Tristan said, an icy edge to her voice, and smacked the costumed woman again. A strangled sob came from the heroine's lips, followed by wheezing breaths.
"E... Eth... Ethan Moore," she whimpered with a trembling lip. Her sobs followed, shuddering her entire body.
"Your best friend. Makes sense. Does Conner Bennett know you're Sapphire Angel?"
"No... he has no idea."
"We're almost done. Now, tell me, what is the code to the keypad on your closet in your apartment?"
Sapphire Angel turned her head, squinting through her tears at her captor.
"Unless you want another jolt or two or three, tell me the code."
Sapphire Angel closed her eyes. "4... 7... 6... 3... 2," she said, her voice cracking.
"Good," the woman said, and began smoothing Sapphire Angel's hair back on top of her head, as if she were a pet. "One more question, and then you can sleep — where is your phone and what's the passcode?"
"My... my phone?"
"Tell me if you want someone to rescue you," the woman said.
"Glove box. Hidden compartment. 4... 7... 1... 6... 2... 8," Sapphire Angel murmured.
The shellshocked woman may have faded off on her own, but Tristan made sure. She turned the valve on the tank to release a trace of the fluid into her prisoner, signaling the end of the interrogation. The famous superheroine, who had started the night with grand plans of justice, oblivious to the prey stalking her from the shadows, had been completely beaten, abused, broken and controlled. She drifted into blackness.
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.
NO NO NO NO NO
How the HECK are we going to fix this?! She knows WAY too much now! Does she die?! Or Iose her memory?! Or something?! Because we CANNOT risk this getting out.
Heroes shouId be aIIowed to reveaI their identities if and when THEY deem it necessary....not when some third-party upstart decides to force them to. This was sooooo disturbing,......but it pIayed out so weII, though.....
And here I thought WheIdon was bad. Maybe Raven just SEEMS worse because her actions hit cIoser to home for Sapphire. RegardIess.....they both have to be deaIt with. Soon.
Well this isn’t a bit getting any better. I almost can’t read it any more. But it’s great writing. Not Superman for sure. Gritty and very real.