Rising Fire by J Smith

Author:J Smith [Smith, J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-07-16T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12: The Interrogation (Nos’s POV)

It takes a hardened stomach and a strong will to break a grown man. Pain is too simplistic. If you genuinely believe that no matter your actions, there is only one definitive outcome. Then you will always stay your course. What is the point if there is no goal at the end, no better gain than the reality you're already in? No, the best kind of torture is motivation. Give someone something to strive for, and they will do anything, especially if you make them believe it will affect their overall result.

Then almost insidiously, move the goal post. Make the actions that will help them achieve that goal more and more complex. Every time they see the light at the end of the tunnel, give them a different direction on how to make it there. If they fail any of your instructions, then shame them for how simplistic the task was, how they could have been done by now that they are only holding themselves back.

They will slowly become more pliant because they don't want to feel failure anymore. They don't want to keep getting closer and closer and not making any achievements, only losses. Failure as a fear is all-encompassing and hard to surpass, especially if the manifestation of that fear is death.

These men have invaded our lands, harmed my brothers, threatened our pack, and stole a dear friend. I was about to manifest their deaths in the worst way.

I had spent the last three days locked in the pack war room. We orchestrated the rest of the hunt for Meara from there while simultaneously researching. It took a long hard couple of days, but I finally had what I needed. Ollie, Cass, and I headed down into the bowels of the old pack house that sat at the far border of our territory. We only use this house for one specific purpose anymore, the dungeons. It was as old and dank as it could ever be.

The walls were crumbling red and black bricks. The bars were wrought Iron and laced with wolfsbane. These hallowed halls have seen all of the dark, seedy things the pack has done under the cloak of night for several years. If they could talk, I would run. I guess every great leader's rein must begin with something.

I don't know if I want mine to begin in bloodshed and torture. But, unfortunately, that's the only option I've been left with. So I carried a manila folder in my hand as we headed down the steps, the smell of mold and stale water in the air.

Finally, at the very end of the long chamber stood three tall, for lack of a better word, men. They all were sitting at different ends of the cell, facing away from each other. It was cute that they think we believe they don't have a bond or connection with each other. You don't choose to join a group to try an attack the head of the most extensive pack on earth with a bunch of nobody strangers.

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