Breaking Their Hold

It had been three days since Zacky had seen Schlagger, though he knew that wasn't a good thing. He knew that the man was probably just trying to frazzle his nerves even more than they were at the moment. He was trying to break Zacky down; he was trying to figure out what Zacky could do to make sure he exposed Mel's plans and the fact that they were heading to Canada. But he wouldn't break down. He wouldn't risk letting his sister get hurt like that. He was prepared to give his life for her.

He looked up when he saw the door open and couldn't help but smirk when he saw Schlagger standing there. Despite the fact that he constantly told the public how powerful he was and how strong he was, Zacky could notice the small lines on the other man's face that betrayed his tiredness. The dark hair had started giving way to salt and pepper strands, and there were two darkened bags under the man's eyes, letting the world know just how exhausted he was in the search for Melissa Baker, Matthew Sanders, and James Sullivan.

"Where is she, Baker?" Schlagger asked him, approaching the chair that Zacky was strapped to before he roughly hit Zacky's face.

The green-eyed boy just smirked back up at him smugly. He was the one getting to Schlagger now. He wasn't going to give him what he wanted. Even if he thought he could trust the man--which he most certainly knew he couldn't--he would never risk his sister's life for his own.

"You've been down this line of questioning before and it never worked," Zacky challenged him, not caring if he got punished physically for his rudeness. He didn't care about that anymore. He didn't care how much pain they put him in; how much they hurt him or tormented his body. What mattered was that Mel was still safe and getting closer to Canada every day.

Before Zacky could say another word, Schlagger hit him again in the face, and then once more after that. The punches continued landing on Zack's face until he couldn't see anything but small, blinking stars on a blackened velvet background. His face was sure to be puffy and bruised by later on in the evening, but he didn't care.

"Was Pierre Bouvier ever a part of this?" Schlagger hissed, anger evident on his voice.

The words made Zacky's blood run cold even as he placed another smirk on his face. If Pierre's name was coming into this now, it meant that the Government suspected that he was a part of the entire thing. It meant that he was no longer going to be able to be a double agent, and it probably meant that he had gone off the grid with Mel.

"Answer me!" Schlagger hissed again.

Zacky knew that at this point, Schlagger was angrier with him than he ever had been before. That was definitely something that was good for him. he was happy about the fact that he knew he was finally scaring the elder man.

The door opened again and Zacky looked over Schlagger's shoulder and then saw two men step inside. They were more Government police and that was definitely not a good thing for Zack at the moment. But at the same time, he didn't care. They'd hurt him even if he did say something.

"President Schlagger, the diplomat from the Canadian embassy is here for the meeting," one of them spoke quietly before looking vaguely in Zacky's direction. Zack stuck his tongue out mockingly at the man, not caring if it landed him more pain. What was the worst they could do, he thought to himself. They'd already tried cutting him, poisoning him, and they'd tried both the physical and the mental kinds of torture.

"Very well," Schlagger spoke before his body stiffened as he narrowed his eyes at Zacky. "I want this boy punished severely. Pull no stops," he added with a small smirk. "I want you to cut him anywhere and everywhere. And after you're done with that, question him again. If he gives no answers, start the process of starvation."

Zacky listened to each word falling off of the man's lips and couldn't help but want to smirk at them. If Schlagger thought a few cuts and being hungry would make him talk, he was sorely mistaken. He liked to think he was a little bit stronger than that.

"Yes, sir," the two men said before watching as Schlagger left the room. Zack felt his breath hitch in his throat when the both of them pulled razorblades out of the pouches on their belts. He knew this was going to hurt. He wasn't stupid. But pain had never been a bargaining chip for Zacky. He didn't give a shit if he was in pain, he kept telling himself, as though the words themselves were some kind of mantra that would help him get through this. Just as long as Mel was still safe, he could live with the pain.

"What are you waiting for?" He asked. "Go on and do what he told you to do. Be good little pets."

The two men growled in anger before they started their assault on Zacky, deciding to go right for the worst kinds of cuts. Feeling both razors on him at the same time was a kind of pain that Zacky hadn't been expecting. He couldn't help but bite down on his bottom lip to stop the cries of pain from leaving his lips.

The razors were everywhere, creating a white hot kind of pain that the poison hadn't given him and the bruises would never equal. It was as though his entire body was being split apart from the inside out. There was so much blood; the razors were going so deep. He didn't know why he'd been thinking they'd start with shallow flesh wounds, because he knew the kinds of monsters these men were. But it didn't take away the surprise.

It seemed to go on forever. Zack knew he was losing a lot of blood; so much that he almost worried he was going to end up in the infirmary part of the Hospital. He knew they'd never give him a blood transfusion unless it was an emergency. Hell, they'd probably just let him die right here in the white room if it came to that. He hadn't expected it to feel this bad.

His whole body burned, as though it had been doused in sulfuric acid before being burned. His muscles tingled in pain and his bones ached in such a way that he'd never felt before because of the way he'd jerked at his restraints every time they'd landed a new gash. He wanted to close his eyes and travel to a place in his mind where there would be no pain, but he knew that would never happen. These two men would never give him that luxury, not that he was asking.

"Are you going to answer our questions now, you filthy little infidel?" One of the men asked before landing another fresh cut on Zacky's cheek, not caring how deep the wound went. He yelped out in pain when the steel sliced through his skin before he narrowed his eyes up at the man.

"I'll never fucking tell you where she's at," he hissed angrily. "You'd have better luck trying to kill me."

He knew that challenging these men was probably not the smartest thing he could do at the moment, but Zack had never considered himself a genius. He always ended up speaking without thinking first, and he knew that oftentimes, it got him in trouble. He knew it probably would this time, too.

The two Government police officials chuckled before they unbuckled his restraints. Far too weak to stand on his own, one of them threw him over his shoulder while the other handcuffed his wrists together too tightly in a pair of medieval-looking wire handcuffs. They were obviously meant more as a torture device than an actual restraint, and they put Zack in even more pain than he had been already.

"By the time you're through with the starvation process, you'll wish you were dead. But we won't be that easy on you," the first man told him before they walked outside of the room. Zack had no idea where they were taking him right now. All he cared about was the fact that once again, he'd withheld information. He'd stayed strong. And he could live with that.