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Sobering thought, but true.
And the days pass.
Three times a day, his guards subject us to brutal interrogation. Each blow, each vile act, is a testament to Artemus’s twisted desires and sadistic tendencies. This may sound odd, but despite the physical anguish we endure, a flicker of gratitude lingers within me. Granted, there’s little to be thankful for, but I’m grateful they return us to our cells with our hands and feet free.
No kidding. I take the small wins.
My hands are a bloody mess. The remnants of my torn nails serve as a grotesque reminder of the torturous lengths they use to extract information.
I’m beaten, battered, and bruised. Kicked, whipped, shocked, and used as a punching bag. I bear the marks of a brutal battle, left to nurse cracked ribs and concussions that turn my brain into a meat grinder until the guards return for another round.
I wish I could say Barbi is spared all of that, but Artemus is a man on a mission.
Things could be worse.
One of Forest’s infamous sayings returns to me. It’s something he used to say to himself, when he and Skye were horrifically abused as foster kids. It’s what brought him through his darkest moments, and it will bring me through this. It’s my beacon amidst this chaos.
There is always light in the darkness.
My light, my life, and my dearest love, Barbi huddles on the cold floor across from me, curled into the fetal position nursing her wounds.
Where is the light in that?
I don’t know, but she’s remarkable.
Brave and stubborn enough to survive, she endures unspeakable horrors at the hands of these monsters, refusing to give in and she demands the same from me.
How did I find my way to such an amazing woman? I certainly don’t deserve her.
I wish I could reach out and gently brush her cheek with my fingertips. As if knowing I’m thinking about her, her eyes flutter open, revealing a mixture of fear, determination, and pain. My guts twist at the mass of bruises marring her skin.
In the depths of her gaze, her fierce resolve mirrors my own. If not for her, I might have given Artemus exactly what he wants, but Barbi and I share a solemn vow—a promise to endure, to weather the storm; to protect and shield each other no matter the cost.
As we struggle to regain our strength, I can’t help but admire her resilience. Her spirit remains unbroken, her defiance a flickering flame through the pain. We draw strength from each other, knowing our survival hinges on our ability to stay strong, to outlast our captors, and to stay one step ahead in this deadly game.
But beneath her fear and determination, exhaustion pulls at her. I don’t know how much more of this she can take before she’s irrevocably broken. Already, I see the cracks in her veneer. The toll this nightmare takes on her spirit is not without cost.
Time stretches on, each passing moment filled with uncertainty. As we huddle on the floors of our respective cells, we listen for any sounds beyond the door, hoping for a sign, a glimmer of hope, while fearing the next session with Artemus’s men.
I’ve heard the term suffocating silence, but never truly understood how the absence of sound amplifies vulnerability. What I will say is this: in this place of darkness, we find solace in stolen moments of tender words and whispers of emotional support. It’s those moments that fuel our determination to survive, to reunite with our loved ones, and to put an end to Artemus’s reign of terror.
We may be battered, but we are not defeated.
I have faith in my Bravo team brothers. They will not leave us here to die.
But time is running out.
THIRTY
Barbi
I losetrack of the days. Once again, we’re back in the interrogation room. Alec's eyes are fixated on me, his anguish apparent as the guards subject me to their barbaric treatment. His desperation to protect me is a constant battle with his iron-willed resolve. In his eyes, I find the strength to meet the interrogators' cold stares with burning defiance.
The guards' frustration builds; their attempts to tear us apart prove ineffective. They escalate their tactics, their brutality designed to break our spirits. Yet, we remain unbroken, finding solace in each other through the pain and turmoil.
The hours morph into a relentless cycle of psychological torment and physical abuse. The guards' desperation is visible in their increasing severity, yet we find strength in their failures. The knowledge of their fruitless efforts fuels us.
After our daily dose of torture, they return us to our separate cells, where they leave us to lick our wounds in the oppressive silence. Alec and I exchange a look, an unspoken understanding passes between us. We may be battered and bruised, but we draw strength from our love, from the belief that together we can overcome anything. But escape is what we need.