Episode 018

Henry is in for the shock of Cindy's life.

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Chapter 18 (continuted)

The door he'd been led through moments before opened and blinding light hit them from the adjacent room. He squeezed his lids shut against it as he was sure Cindy would be doing, too. Holding up a hand for shade, he blinked against the light, willing his eyes to adjust.

"Keep ‘em closed or lose ‘em."

Henry recognized Passenger Seat Thug's voice. He didn't know if he meant his eyes or Cindy's, but kept them closed just in case.

Cindy began screaming almost at once, hoping the rest of the vessel's hold wasn't soundproofed like their cell, Henry guessed; hoping she could draw attention. He found himself worrying she might succeed. He cared about her-deeply-but he mustn't let his feelings interfere with God's purpose.

Passenger Seat Thug hoisted him to his feet and lead him back through the door. Cindy either risked a peek, or felt their footsteps retreating away from her.

"Please Henry! Tell them! If you love me, tell them to-"

And the rest of her guilt trip was cut off behind the closed door.

"You can open your eyes now."

Then Passenger Seat Thug walked up the metal stairs and outside to the deck, leaving Henry standing just outside the door to Cindy's cell. 

He never believed for a second they would make him spend the night in that dungeon. And for the second time that day, the story of Daniel in the lion's den comforted him. 

The first thing he noticed after his eyes adjusted was the stark contrast between her cell (now fully visible through a floor-to-ceiling glass wall separating the two compartments) and the luxuriant space he found himself in presently.

His accommodations: Plush Berber carpeting; a round conference table fashioned from exotic cocobolo wood and surrounded by the latest Aeron desk chairs; varnished cherry bookshelves lining two of the walls, each filled with leather-bound volumes of scholarly merit.

Cindy's cell: Bare metal floor. Bare metal walls. A porta-potty. The only furniture, a homemade-looking craft table constructed from unfinished four-by-four posts and hastily sawn particle board; a couple cheap plastic stools off to one side.

But the lighting was perhaps the biggest contrast. On Henry's side, the lush appointments reflected warm, cozy light cast by halogen sconces and track lighting. The light in Cindy's cell was harder to classify. It seemed somehow devoid of illumination. The light didn't so much reflect off the objects in the room, as the objects themselves seemed to emit light-very feint light-all of it a greenish hue, like the dying glow of squashed lighting bugs on a windshield. As he bent closer to examine the glass ‘wall' dividing them, Henry realized it was actually electronic in nature.

"Infrared refraction polymer."

Until he spoke, Henry hadn't noticed the man standing in the shadowed corner beneath the stairwell.

"Her room is lit with infrared light, which the human eye cannot detect. As it passes through the one-way glass, it's phase-shifted down to a visible frequency we can see on this side. There's some distortion. But not much."

Henry could have given a church mouse's derriere about the technology involved. "What's this all about? Why do you find it necessary to prod me by threatening Cindy? I am eager to do the work. It is my...my destiny-God has chosen me for this."

"Because those were my orders. Orders, Henry. That's what this is all about. You have your orders, and I have mine. My orders are to get you to carry out your orders. Much like you've proven yourself effective at whatever-the-hell-it-is you do, I have proven myself effective at...uh...well, let's just call it: motivational psychology.

"We are professionals, you and I. So don't take anything that happens under my watch personally. And don't force me to explain myself, or so much as repeat a word of my forthcoming instructions, or I will become irritated with you. Understood?"

Henry nodded. Noticed the very large handgun the man carried in a hip holster.

"Good, good, good. Right-so...here, is our first, task:

"Background: Mercy Anne, whom I understand you are familiar with, has decided to report Cindy missing to the police. Unfortunately, Cindy is extraordinarily beautiful and looks young enough to be a teenager. Hello Amber Alert. Hello nationwide media coverage. Our mutual employer doesn't appreciate the potential scrutiny.

"Objective: We are to make the story go away, discrediting Mercy Anne in the process. Here is what I came up with:

"In a moment, two of my subordinates will enter Cindy's room. They will either be carrying a water hose and a wet towel, or, a modified deep-cycle marine battery wired into what looks like a small briefcase from which two thick wires protrude, each wire terminated by alligator clips. Here's where you come in:

"You get to choose which method of torture they use on her, water boarding, or painful electric shocks. You'll also be the one to decide when she's had enough. We'll turn on the room-to-room intercom so you two can communicate. With me so far?"

"No! This is crazy! You don't need to punish her like that. I told you, I'm going to be completely cooperative."

"Look Henry, let me finish, and this will make more sense. See, we'll need you and Cindy to turn yourselves into the police and discredit Ms. Anne's story. You will need to tell them-and Cindy will have to convincingly agree-that the two of you have eloped to Mexico, and that you've decided to extend the honeymoon indefinitely in order to escape Ms. Anne's obsessive intrusions into your lives.

"But there's just no way we could realistically expect you to comply with this scheme without first spelling out the consequences of noncompliance. Cindy is simply too strong-willed at this point in her life. And you are absolutely whipped-so much so you don't even realize it-and hell-look at her-who wouldn't be?

"So first, we must break her spirit. And, we must also make her hate you-to see you as both the source, and the inexplicably withheld cessation of her torment-so that whatever warped hope you've held onto, that she might someday reciprocate your pathetic, skewed love-is crushed, and along with it, any motive for disobedience such misguided affection oft provides."

 "Cindy!" Henry yelled out, hoping to warn her. "Cindy!" She didn't respond. Just stared into her artificial dark with pupils showing almost no white behind.

"I haven't turned on the intercom yet, Henry. But when I do, you will speak only when prompted. Kapeesh?"

Henry didn't answer. He understood the man's instruction just fine, but as to reconciling the treatment of Cindy with the larger unfolding of God's plan for him, he was suddenly at a loss.

"Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth, Henry? When I ask you a question, you are to respond in a timely manner. Do? You? Understand? Me?"

"Yes. I understand," Henry said.

"Yes I understand, sir, Henry. Say it."

"Yes, I understand, sir," Henry said.

The man laughed. "Ah, I'm just messing with you, Henry. Call me ‘Rocky.' Because I just freakin' love squirrels. Especially flying squirrels. Happens to be my favorite movie, too."

Rocky was looking at him expectantly so Henry nodded, acknowledging (he guessed) that he would refer to him as ‘Rocky' in the future.

"Good, good, good. Right-well in that case, let's get this party started. What will it be for your girlfriend? A realistic simulation of drowning? Or painful electric shocks? If it helps you decide, my men would really appreciate the opportunity to see her breasts in order to attach the electrodes."

"You are a sick fuck, whoever you are," Henry protested.

Rocky strode across the room like a butler answering a doorbell, and then leveled him with a backhand.

"Calling me a sick fuck wasn't one of your options. Now, let me try again: Will it be the water-boarding, or the painful electric shocks?"

Henry wiped at the blood leaking out of his nose and mouth with his shirt sleeve and whimpered, "The electric shocks, please."

Most people would have chosen water boarding, Henry knew, but that was because they didn't know any better. After a certain U.S. president's administration had been called to task for their stance on torture during terrorist interrogations, Henry, like so many others who'd heard the term, went straight to YouTube in search of video demonstrating this torture method. In essence, water boarding simulates the experience of drowning. Because the victim has no idea how long it will last, or if their tormentors even intend to stop the procedure before they drown, it turns out to be one of the worst possible things you can do to someone. electric shock, on the other hand, doesn't make the victim fear they're going to die. It just hurts like holy hell.

Such logical rationalizations would come in handy when and if it came time to defend his choice. The real reason Henry chose the electric shocks for Cindy was less noble: He wanted to see her breasts exposed even more than her torturers did.

In fact, the idea of strange men tweaking her nipples in order to attach the alligator clips, of holding her down as she shrieked and gyrated against the current...it aroused him. What an opportunity to witness something so erotic-something he'd never have the balls to try.

Rocky walked over to a control box mounted into the glass wall, and pressed the two-way transmit button. "OK Cindy. We're ready to start with the festivities. Got that portrait of tranquil calm framed in your mind?"

"Fuck you asshole!"

"Maybe later. But for the time being, your boyfriend Henry will be assisting us while we break your spirit."

Henry got off the floor and watched the contortions of her facial muscles as she tried to process what was happening. From fear, to hatred, to confusion to outrage-each mask of emotion was exaggerated because of her prolonged exposure to the darkness.

"Henry! Henry!" She screamed his name over and over.

He started to stay something to comfort her, but Rocky held up a shushing finger in the air.

"Henry, why don't you share with Cindy the specific manner in which she'll be mercilessly tortured today until you tell us to stop," he said, and took his finger down, signaling Henry to speak.

"El-l-l-lectric Sh-sh-shock," he managed to stutter out.

"Repeat that. A little louder this time. I don't think she heard you."

"electric shock. They're going to shock you with electrodes, Cindy. But I won't let them go on for too long. They just want to-"

The man pressed the talk button and cut the transmission before Henry could finish the rest of his sentence.

"Let's keep it curt, eh Henry? Your antics are growing tiresome. Answer my questions, speak when prompted, and when in doubt, less is more."

He depressed the transmission button, this time in the middle of Cindy hurling largely unintelligible insults Henry's way.

"You see? We need to break her. You'll thank me later. A woman like that, you marry her, and all you'll get is TV dinners and a dildo in the dresser.

"OK guys, we're ready for you. Henry wants you to use the electrodes on her."

The two thugs appeared from a door on the far side of Cindy's holding cell. One carried what looked like a car battery wired to into a suitcase-like box with wires protruding from the bottom. He set the contraption on the craft table, scooted everything closer to where Cindy was chained to the floor, and adjusted his goggles. Both men wore what looked a lot like welding goggles,  allowing them to see the infrared light that remained invisible to Cindy. They forced her flat on the floor, one on each side of her, pinning her arms spread-eagled to the floor with their knees. Then they cut her shirt open with some medical scissors. Removed her bra. Massaged her breasts. Stroked and licked and blew on her nipples until they were nice and erect. Attached the alligator clamps. "Ready when you are sir," one of them said.

"See? you're special, Henry. They don't get to call me ‘Rocky.'" He continued, "Give her a series of five, five-second shocks, level eight, with five seconds in between each shock. We'll let Henry decide how many times to repeat the sequence."

Cindy tried to writhe free from the men, but at five-foot-nothing, and maybe a hundred and ten pounds, her efforts were futile. The first shock jolted her, and at first she didn't even cry out, attempting to be stoic about it, Henry supposed. But her tough girl routine didn't last. In the final two seconds of her very first jolt, Cindy let out a scream so inhumanly intense that the sound scared her once her brain figured out she was the source.

Henry'd seen enough. To hell with letting them give her four more just like it.

"Stop! That's enough! You're going to kill her!"

"She can't hear you."

Henry turned toward Rocky and the intercom box. Only the receive button was depressed.

"Don't worry, Henry. She won't die. She'll want to die, of course, but there aren't enough amps to oblige her. Just a freaking painful high number of volts."

Very faintly, between exhausted sobs, Henry thought he heard her moan two words: kill...me.

"How can you do this to her? She's done nothing!"

"I've already answered your question, Henry. I have my orders, and carrying those out involves breaking her spirit."

"Well I can't watch," Henry said, and he turned away from the nightmare of Cindy's anguish, ashamed  he ever imagined this could be titillating.

"Henry, you turn around and you watch her suffer-or I'll have them do the same to your testicles only ten times as long."

He did as he was told.

The Lord works in mysterious ways, he repeated to himself like a mantra.

A hellish half hour later, Rocky set the intercom back to two-way mode, and Henry begged the men to stop shocking her. She'd taken a soul-crushing one-hundred-eighty hits of the pain juice.

"It's about time, Henry. You sick bastard," Driver's Seat Thug called out.

Henry wept. But Cindy couldn't hear that. Rocky the flying squirrel fanatic had already turned the intercom back to receive-only.

He admonished Henry. "You need to grow a pair! Look what she went through. Do you hear her bawling like a little bitch?"

Indeed, Cindy wasn't crying. Henry did his best to suck it up.

Rocky put the intercom back in two-way mode. "OK. Listen carefully lovebirds. I'm not going to repeat myself, and it's only by following these instructions exactly that you will prevent future sessions of pain and humiliation far in excess of the one you just endured."

The Lord works in mysterious ways.

The Lord works in mysterious ways.

The Lord works in mysterious ways.

After awhile it rang true.