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INQUISITOR METH DRAYNE
The triangular tower nestled deep in the controlled region of Godenheim, somewhere between the Drug Dens and the Prayer Lawn, where screams and calls of terror were commonplace.
Exuberance took on many forms, it seemed. The experimental drugs had that kind of effect.
The tower was surrounded by dirty, smelly air so putrid and intense that it bled the odour of fear and shame, guilt and severity. In the middle of this tower was a reclined seat, straps of leather and instruments of metal adorning it, and deeply surrounded by the tools of torture. There were flayers, cutters, gougers, rippers, clampers and manglers. There was also an Inquisitor, Meth Drayne, a man of singular vices, which he currently employed. He laid the brownish powder on his hand and sniffed it in deep. His manner and his eyes changed, became wider, more extreme, like piss holes in the snow. After shaking away the initial high from his dose, he turned to the victim strapped in the reclined chair, well and truly trapped.
And so he should be. He had done wrong. He had to be punished.
“Omne trium perfectum. Know it? I like order, you know, Jevrey. I don't like it messed with. Three confessions today. Three. I’m not leaving this tower until I have those three confessions. Understand, Mr Hup? Let’s just make it quick, huh? Confess now, so we don’t have to go through this rigmarole, eh, Jevrey, my boy? Admit you killed that man. Admit it now.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I -”
“Come now, Jevrey? Are we going to start like this? With the first lie?”
“What are you -”
“Confess!” yelled Inquisitor Drayne suddenly.
“To murder? Never!”
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How to Gain A Confession Stage One: Confront!
“You see this tool, Mr Hup? This is for removing the top layer of skin from your feet. Oh, not truly painful yet, but when you try and stand? Oh, so painful! Like a demonstration?” Inquisitor Drayne ran the device over the man’s left foot.
“Aarrrgggghhhh!”
“Oh, feel that, do you? Painful isn’t it? Confess!”
“No! I am not a murderer!” screamed the man.
Inquisitor Drayne removed the skin from the device and ran it over the right foot.
“Nnggghaaaah!”
“See what happens when you don’t cooperate, Jevrey Hup?”
“I am not -”
“Yes, yes. You’re not a murderer. I’ve heard it all before. But you did, you are and you will confess.” Inquisitor Drayne leaned into the man’s ear and screamed, “Confess, you cur!” The man merely whimpered. Tears streaked his dirty face, like a map of an estuary. He dribbled like a child, “So, we’re going to play hard to get, I see? Well, I know that game. I’ve played that game. Hell, I invented that game!” Inquisitor Drayne reached for another device. He put it over the toes of the bloodied feet and slowly, deliberately, broke every one of the man’s toes. The pain was too much and the man passed out.
There then came three knocks to the door of the chamber. It was immediately opened and a squat, humpbacked man popped his considerably ugly face round the door, “Sir! I fink -”
“Drop! Get out, now!” screamed Inquisitor Drayne, spinning his head round and giving himself a crick in the neck for his troubles.
“But Sir! It’s important! You -”
“Get out of here Drop, or Old Ones help me -” Drop did as instructed and disappeared, muttering to himself. Inquisitor Drayne looked to his victim, “Now, where were we? Oh yes - Confess! Oh shit, he’s unconscious. Oops.”
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How to Gain A Confession Stage Two: Continue!
Inquisitor Drayne finished the line of powder on the back of his hand as he spotted his victim stirring, “Ah, you’re awake. Shall we continue? Good. You are Jevrey Hup - don’t interrupt - erstwhile of Crow Steps, north east district of Godenheim, arrested for the murder of Ken Tepp - I said don’t interrupt! - also of Crow Steps in the north east district of Godenheim, which you did commit on the morning of the first, with a ‘sexual pleasure’ - so help me, will you shut up?! - device which he had failed to return to you. Now will you confess?”
The victim spat in Inquisitor Drayne’s face. The Inquisitor dramatically wiped the spittle with his sleeve. The victim fell into a fit of coughs.
“I swear, if I wasn’t torturing you right now, I would punch you on the nose for that!” said Inquisitor Drayne, “Now, you have heard the charge and I will get the confession out if you if it kills me. Hmm, still have an hour or so before - right.” Inquisitor Drayne reached out for another device. He tested its rotatingness, before presenting it to his victim, “See this, Mr Hup? This little - wire here, this goes into the artery of your arm and - bit stiff - this bit attaches to your arm with these - spikes. Damn, the spikes aren’t working. Never mind. It’s a minor part of it anyway. A flourish if you like.” Inquisitor Drayne attached the device to the man’s arm and began turning the wheel on its side.
“Ssaaaaaaggghhhrrrrrmmmm!”
“Nice isn’t it? It’s got a kind of - kick to it, doesn’t it? Many of my clients have remarked how truly painful it is. So how about it, Jevrey? A little confessionette? Wow, you’re certainly hard to please! Right, well, I suppose it’s time for the Squirter.” Inquisitor Drayne leaned over and picked up a further device. This one had some kind of lung on one end and a metal pipe, thin and rough, on the other. Inquisitor Drayne waved it in front of his victim’s face, who stared back at him in defiance, “Guess where this goes?”
“Up your arse!” shouted the man, right into Inquisitor Drayne’s face.
“Almost. Wrong person and - also - wrong orifice. I warn you, after this, it’ll be quite difficult to piss without bleeding.” Inquisitor Drayne sucked through gritted teeth in mock concern, his eyebrows furrowed in further mockery.
“Confess?” he asked, hopefully.
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How to Gain A Confession Stage Three - Confess!
“I don’t think you realise how hard it is to sleep with this much pressure, Mr Hup. I was awoken not once, not twice, but thrice! Three times that damn fence creaked! Kept me up until who knows when! Isn’t it annoying when that happens? Oh, you know, Jevrey! You weren’t always tied to my torture table. Ooh, alliteration! It’s nice when that happens, isn’t it? Mr Hup? Mr Hup! Pay attention! Such rudeness.” Inquisitor Drayne looked down at his Cassock, tutting as he did, “See this? Lost those two buttons a week ago. Lost this one this morning. In a hurry, see? There’s never the time to fix it, is there?” Inquisitor Drayne sniffed another line of powder from his hand, zinging as he did.
The man just stared at him, close lipped. Actually, he would have been close lipped if they weren’t split and oozing with blood, like most of his face and body was now.
“Oh cheer up!” admonished Inquisitor Drayne, “It could be worse!” the man turned his head away, “Rude.” muttered Inquisitor Drayne in response.
The door creaked open again, but before Drop could say anything, Inquisitor Drayne snapped his head round to confront him, “What did I say about opening the door? Oh, just come inside and sit down. You’re letting the most awful draft in here. Running right up my spine, it is. Very uncomfortable. Just sit there, Drop, and keep quiet.” Inquisitor Drayne pointed distractedly to a three legged stool, which Drop obediently walked to, or rather shuffled to, and sat down.
“Sir, I fink you need to know -” began Drop.
“Drop?! Quiet!”
“But -”
“I said quiet!” Inquisitor Drayne looked to the victim in the seat, “You just can’t get the staff these days, can you?” Drop shifted uneasily, but with one withering look from the Inquisitor, he stopped moving at all, “Right. Okay. So, Mr Hup. Arrested twice for assault, I see - shut up Drop - naturally leads to murder, in my experience. Then you were arrested for this? You are, as they say, bang to rights, as it were. Confess, Mr Hup. Confess. If not for you, for the man’s family? Just confess.”
The victim on the seat stared through bloodshot eyes into Inquisitor Drayne’s own. There was something of the animal now in the victim’s eyes, “No, no, no!” he shouted as vehemently as he could.
“Sir -”
“Drop, will you shut it?”
“I really must insist, Sir -”
“One more outburst, and it’ll be you in the seat! Pass me that one!” Inquisitor Drayne pointed to a three-sided implement. Drop reluctantly passed it to him. Inquisitor Drayne examined it, rolling it over in his hands, feeling the weight, testing the edges, holding it up to his eyes, closely, almost tasting it.
“It’s for anal insertion.” explained Drop obediently. Inquisitor Drayne quickly dropped it and wiped his hands on his Cassock.
“Right, well, that’s enough of that then. You could have warned me, Drop!” said Inquisitor Drayne, turning on the hunchback accusatively.
“Please Sir, if you won’t listen to me, please look at this?” The hunchback thrust a piece of paper at Inquisitor Drayne.
“What’s this? It says Heretic Dansa Menigraine on it. What do I need this for?”
“Uhm.” said the hunchback, pointing at the bloody mess in the seat, now with more holes than a sieve and leaking liquid in various forms from various exits. His breath was laboured and he seemed to be holding on to either consciousness or life, or both, by the merest of angry, painful threads.
“Wait, are you saying -” began Inquisitor Drayne. The Hunchback nodded. “Bugger.” expressed Inquisitor Drayne. He waved his hands in frustration and instruction to the hunchback to remove this one and bring in the right one.
Within minutes, one man was dragged from the seat and another dragged in, tied down, strapped in and prepared. This one was fresh faced and anxious. Inquisitor Meth Drayne cleared his throat, in preparation for oration, “Omne trium perfectum. Know it? I like order, you know, Jevrey. I don’t like it messed with. Three confessions today. Three. I'm not leaving this tower until I have those three confessions. Understand, Mr Hup? Let’s just make it quick, huh?”
If at first you don't succeed - try, try and try again.
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