On a usual day I might sit in my cell, indulge in exercises of self pity, hatred, and resent, or perhaps eagerly await my own death, for any possibility of pleasure had since elapsed. On any normal day, I may rot in my cell like the chains clamped around me, with only the mad thoughts of a broken man to entertain myself. Today was different however, as the guards entered my cell at an unusual time of day, and in front of them were two men. One was a finely dressed, young, extravagant man, clothed in a brooks brothers suit, the other was a man who seemed as if he was much more of my stature, a rotting beast, but I could smell only the beginnings of rot, as life still shone in his eyes, and a smirk of sarcastic hope visibly showed on his face. The man in the suit introduced himself as "Jack", whispered some inaudible words into the ear of the guard on the left, who seemed the least dimwitted of the two, pushed the rotting beast into my cell, and promptly left (Or so it appeared, as I could still see their secretive shadows on the wall through the small patch of light which I am allotted).
I turned my attention the rotting beast before me, "sit, I lack the physical strength to harm you" I commanded. The beast sat without hesitation, and appeared befuddled. Curious, I asked "What is your name beast?". "rex" he replied. I nodded, and studied Rex, who seemed as if he had undergone a great deal of physical torture. His hair was blonde and rough, and one might describe him as a "blonde beast" to use Nietzsche's term. Rex remained in the cell, as if he was awaiting a great terror. I decided I must make conversation to entertain my guest, but I again lost control of body, as pure rot began to flow through my veins, and words escaped my mouth in that familiar deathly tone, "You have a wife and young, fresh, beautiful children don't you Rex?" the voice asked. "I...how did you know that?" Rex replied, shuttering as he did. "So pitiful is humanity, their worthless attachments, after all if James and Melissa were buried, miles beneath the earths surface, screaming, weeping, moaning for help, their cries hopeless as the life slowly, painfully drains from their eyes and their bodies, until they are as stiff as corpses, wouldn't you fight tooth and nail for their survival, wouldn't you trade places?" the voice continued in its sharp, vitriol filled drawl. Rex then began to tear and scream "You really think this will make me squeal? You scum?", but the voice spared nothing and no one, and continued further,
"Rex, the most efficient means of extracting information is to target what the subject of the extraction holds dear."
still further, the voice teased, "If they are truly willing to do everything, if they were truly scum, would they not target that which you hold dear? If I knew the names of your children, what else may I know? perhaps you should take a shovel and start digging". The voice then began to chuckle, innocently like a child, as Rex began to choke my body, so passionately, so violently.
As I regained control of my body, I realised I had lost the ability to breathe. I felt a duality, the presence of the voice still within me, still conscious and present, and as the life faded away from my eyes and my body, we both smiled.