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Post by Anslem Aslem on Aug 9, 2009 12:20:56 GMT -5
March 8h
1214
After seeing the crazed Innocenzo attempt to tear his wrist open with his own teeth, Anslem opted for him to be treated as a suicide risk whatever the doctor may have to say. He gave the household staff ten minutes to completely strip the bedroom. During that time he'd gone to a kitchen and flinched another bottle of schnapps to fill his flask with. He had also drank an entire bottle in about five minutes.
He was in a decidedly better mood after that.
Lighting a cigarette he opened the door and inspected the room quickly for any missed objects that could be used to kill one self. Seeing none he took the handcuffs from his coat pockets and snapped them onto the headboard designed for this very purpose. There was a special switch by the door one only had to flick for a hidden recorder to start taping. A camera was located in the ceiling above the bed, it's lens painfully visible if one bothered to look up.
The capo sat on the bed waiting for his soldier and unfortunate prisoner. I doubt the kid's got much to say, but still I'm sure the red will love every second of it, he thought to himself with a sneer. Still, perhaps more than paperwork come out of this.
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Post by Panas Demidov on Jun 5, 2010 13:58:16 GMT -5
A wave of nausea threatened to push him back into black oblivion as soon as Panas showed faint stirring of consciousness. Weakened from blood loss and drugging, the frail boy attempted to turn onto his side, his breathing shallow and ragged.
Only to find himself immobilized.
Dark eyes opened to a blind world, hands and legs tugged, but it was no use, he was tied up with a rope of some sort, the blindfold over his eyes restricting all sight. The most he could do was turn his head in his panic, but the rapid movements fuelled by terror only made him feel sicker. Panas strained to hold back the urge to vomit or cry as he strained against his bindings, metal buckles digging into his skin through all the layers, his right arm still throbbing from the damage he had done to it.
Interrogation.
Torture.
Those words flashed through his muddled mind, remembering being lectured on the risks of even the smallest job when he was inducted into the Innocenzo family. No, no! Hadn't he been through enough already?!
He whimpered sharply.
"Pleese...fathar...doktor...anyvone..."
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