Joseph Tropiano (luckandchance) wrote in low_tide, @ 2009-12-13 00:05:00 |
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Current mood: | working |
Entry tags: | joseph tropiano |
Bound & Gagged
There were many ways of coercing information from a person - you could bribe them, blackmail them, threaten their security, but there was no better way of extracting information from a person than by hurting loved ones or hurting them directly.
Joseph preferred the latter to the former, knowing he’d rather keep his loved ones out of the line of fire and there were some depths he would not stoop to.
Currently he was stood back, distanced, separated from the events playing out before his eyes. He’d intervene, he always did, he was too good at this part not to get involved. It was a strength, one that kept him awake at night, not always though.
Smoke was exhaled as Joseph turned and extinguished the last remnants of life in the cigarette he’d been nursing, fingers flicking lingering traces of ash away and into the dark of a nearby shadow.
This place was abandoned, long neglected, easily forgotten - everything that Joseph needed it to be, nobody would think to look here for anybody. He pushed away from the nearby table, stepping into the light until his eyes were fixed on the trembling figure bound and gagged to the chair in the middle of the room.
Joseph ushered his colleague away with one hand and turned his attention to the man in the chair, knowing that his face would be unfamiliar one. “I’m told you know things,” Joseph remarked softly, tilting his head to watch the way in which the man shook his head vigorously and attempted to mouth responses. “Things that I could use to my advantage. Places, names, faces and certain delicate details that could put your employers at a severe disadvantage.”
He paused to pry the gag free, rolling his eyes as the man babbled incoherent things at first, all the things Joseph expected to hear. This sort of thing was like a broken record: a familiar string of lies one after another with perfect timing and exquisite intricacies. Joseph knew them all, too well. “Don’t lie to me. It’ll do you no favours.”
Joseph unbuttoned his shirt slowly, a button at a time, slipping it off with such precision that it was not just a matter of removing an article of clothing, but some sort of ritual. “I have other ways of making you talk and I assure you that you will talk whether you want to talk or not.” The shirt was folded and placed to one side until Joseph was clad in nothing but a pair of jeans and a tank top.
“They’ll kill me!”
“What I do to you will be worse than that,” Joseph muttered coldly as he reached back to pull a trolley littered with implements forward, just close enough to his would be victim so the man could draw his own conclusions.
“You don’t understand!” The man continued. “They’ll know I said something.”
Joseph turned to the shadows and snapped his fingers, catching the pack of smokes that were tossed his way a second later. “You really shouldn’t concern yourself with what they’ll do. More with what I intend on doing to you.” He eased a cigarette between his lips and lit a nearby blowtorch, dipping his head until he could catch the tip of his cigarette with the edge of the flame. “Now, are you or are you not going to tell me what I want to know?” He switched the torch off and turned to regard the other man, exhaling smoke.
“I can’t! They’ll know!”
Wrong answer, Joseph shook his head and stepped closer, reaching back for a tool. The only sounds the other man made from this point were anguished cries of pain, ones that seemed torn from deep within him, ripped out of him by the all too skilful touch of one Joseph Tropiano.
He’d get answers, one way or another.