I don't remember when I regained conciousness but my head was killing me. I could feel my muscles screaming out in agony and I wasn't surprised. I was on my knees with my arms raised above my head, suspended there by rope thrown crudely over a beam. A man was walking around me, staring at me with curious eyes, he hadn't noticed I was awake yet, my hair had grown just long enough that when I hung my head it covered my eyes. They had taken my shirt off and the cold prickled my skin. It must be night time.
I wondered if Jagan was alright. If he has any sense he'll regroup before trying anything.
The man seemed to have noticed that I was awake because he suddenly stopped walking and started to laugh, it was high pitched and cruel and it made my body cringe at the thought of what he would do.
He pulled back my head and looked into my eyes. "You will give us information that we need Mr. Scarecrow." he stated and I began to laugh. The b*stard doesn't even know my real name, just what Foster and the guys refer to me as and that's....
I stopped laughing abruptly as he punched me in the face but then I began again, hysterical laughter. I was trying to distract him and it seemed to work.
"Tell me about your colleagues and I'll let you go free, running back to them with your tail between your legs, like a little mouse." he smiled as he walked over to a table. "f*ck you a**hole!" I spat and he frowned as he turned back to me. "Then I'll have to force the information from you." he said evilly.
I tested the ropes that held me and found them to be a little looser then I thought. As he walked towards me I jumped up and kicked him in the face. He went down like a sack of potatoes but suddenly there were about ten more men around me, restraining me. Then he stood up slowly and I saw him lift something out of a fire and I cringed in horror.
"So you say you are Scarecrow?" he laughed, blood streaming from his nose "Well we will name you this forever so."
The ropes were cut and two men held me face down on the ground as he walked forwards, the object of untold pain in his hands. I bit down on my lip and pressed my head against the cool floor as fire spread across my back and hot iron bit into my flesh forming letters that spelt out the very essence of my being, the reason I must not cry out, the reason I must not give in to what they want.
Oh Christ it hurts....
I struggled and fought, I think I knocked a few of them out, but one of them must have had a tazer and he used it on me, the electric current jolted me and I paused momentarily to receive the butt of a rifle across the back of the head and once again succumb to darkness.