"A T.H.R.U.S.H. and his fez are seldom parted" Chapter 9

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Illya woke up as he was being dragged down a dimly lit corridor, and though he valiantly pulled at his captors arms to free himself, he was too weak to succeed. He was brought into another room, no doubt for interrogation, and handcuffed against a stripped down skeletal mattress spring that was leaning against a wall.

He knew what that meant and mentally prepared himself for what was to come.

The guard sliced Illya’s shirt away from him, leaving his sweat covered torso exposed and the simple wrappings Napoleon had put on the Russian’s bloody arms came off as well.

From his struggles, the wounds on his arms had begun to bleed again...

There he stayed for what seemed like an eternity...a typical interrogation technique; keep the subject waiting;  let the anticipation and fear of the unknown build the anxiety.

Yet somehow the only thing bothering Illya Kuryakin more at the moment, was the fact that his nose was itching and he couldn’t scratch it.  It was most annoying.

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Just a note of thanks...

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

A big thank you to everyone who participated in yesterday's "Writer's Choice" postings. It was our most successful yet!

Every Friday, you're invited to post a link to one of your favorite stories that you've written.  If you're not a writer, and instead a reader, feel free to post a link to a story by your favorite author.  Just a reminder, Section VII is a gen site, so appropriate links please.  We'll give a reminder each week.  Looking forward to your postings.